The Frostveil Range rose like a wall of white teeth against the northern sky—jagged peaks shrouded in perpetual blizzard, the air so cold it burned lungs with every breath. Elara and Thorne had flown through the night, Thorne's wings cutting through swirling snow with relentless power. They landed at dawn on a narrow ridge overlooking the first silent village: Hollowmere.
No smoke rose from chimneys. No movement in the streets. The wooden houses stood intact, doors ajar, lanterns still flickering weakly as if their owners had simply stepped out and never returned.
Elara pulled her fur-lined cloak tighter. The resonance hummed stronger here sharp, insistent, like a needle under the skin.
"Same as the reports," she said quietly. "No blood. No struggle."
Thorne's breath fogged the air. His scales had taken on a faint frost sheen; the cold didn't harm him, but it slowed him. "Echo drain leaves no marks on the body. Just… emptiness."
They descended the ridge together, boots crunching through fresh powder. The village square was eerily pristine market stalls still stocked with frozen bread and withered vegetables, a child's wooden toy sword half-buried in snow.
Elara knelt beside a doorway. A thin layer of frost coated the threshold, but beneath it she saw faint golden traces her own echo signature, distorted, as if something had tried to mimic it.
"It's learning," she whispered. "Copying us. Luring us."
Thorne crouched beside her, hand on her shoulder. Through the bond she felt his alertness spike. "Then it knows we're coming."
A low wind moaned through the empty streets almost like voices, whispering names.
Elara stood. "We follow the pull. It wants us deeper into the range."
They moved on past frozen wells, past a tavern with mugs still on tables, past a temple whose doors hung open to reveal an altar smeared with black frost.
At the village's northern edge, the trail ended at a crevasse deep, dark, dropping into shadow. At its bottom, barely visible through swirling mist, a faint purple glow pulsed.
The resonance sang loud now, demanding.
Thorne extended his wings. "Down we go."
Elara stepped into his arms without hesitation. He lifted her, leaped.
They dropped into the crevasse wind roaring past, snow stinging skin. Thorne's wings caught air in controlled spirals, slowing their fall until they landed softly on ice-cracked stone at the bottom.
The glow came from a cavern mouth ahead walls veined with amethyst crystal that throbbed like a heartbeat. Inside, the air was warmer, almost feverish.
They entered.
The cavern opened into a vast chamber. At its center stood a jagged spire of black ice, and embedded in it a Devourer fragment, no larger than a man, but radiating wrongness. It had taken a humanoid shape: tall, cloaked in shifting shadow, face obscured except for glowing violet eyes.
It turned as they approached.
Anchor. Flame-Bearer. The voice echoed inside their skulls soft, almost welcoming. You came quickly. Good. I have been waiting.
Elara's hand tightened on Thorne's. "You're not the first fragment we've faced."
No, it replied. But I am the first to remember you. The others were blind hunger. I… learned.
The fragment stepped forward ice cracking under its feet.
I offer a bargain. Join me. Merge your bond with my essence. Together we can unmake the old chains forever. No more guarding. No more sacrifice. Only freedom. Power without limit.
Thorne's wings flared. "We've heard better lies."
The fragment tilted its head. Then let me show you truth.
It raised a hand. Shadows coalesced forming images in the air:
Elara alone on the throne, aging, isolated, echoes draining her slowly. Thorne consumed by his curse, wings rotting, fire turning inward until nothing remained. Veilhold crumbling under new threats they could not reach in time.
The visions struck like knives raw fear injected directly into their minds.
Elara staggered. Thorne caught her.
The fragment smiled with too many teeth.
Choose, it whispered. Or watch it all happen anyway.
The resonance flared golden light pushing back the shadows.
Elara met the fragment's gaze.
"We choose each other," she said.
Thorne's curse-flame ignited black and crimson roaring to life.
The chamber trembled.
The fight for the first fragment had begun.
[End of Chapter 2 – Volume 2]