Chapter Three – The Shadow That Watched the Flame
Part Two – Lightning That Does Not Burn
The Grinn leaned in closer.
Yolti's fingers lost strength. Her breath no longer reached her chest. The Riftborn's claws pressed just beneath her jawline, savoring her stillness. Her eyes fluttered. Not from peace—never from peace—but from the edge of memory where light dims.
Kaelen crawled forward, broken by fire backlash, fingers scraping bark and frost. His vision shook. His voice failed.
Then—
The wind shifted.
No, not the wind.
Something through the wind.
A crackle.
A thread pulled taut through the silence of the pines.
And then—
Impact.
A lance of lightning hurled from above, faster than thought, shearing through the canopy like a wrathful hymn. It struck the Grinn's shoulder—clean through.
The Riftborn reeled, shrieking in a frequency no human throat could match. Its hold on Yolti loosened. Her body dropped, gasping, trembling in the dirt.
Another strike.
Veilmark Art—Shadow Spear.
The words weren't spoken.
But the sound of the cast rang in the air. Not a chant. Not a glyph. A hum.
Like resonance pulled through old metal.
Kaelen shielded his eyes, blinking through the crackling haze.
A figure descended, landing silently on the earth between them and the Grinn. Cloaked in dusk-black fabric, a half-mask carved like an old shard of memory wrapped around his jawline.
He stood still.
Not tense.
Not ready.
Certain.
The Grinn lunged with the last of its rage.
The figure moved one step to the side, shifted his weight—
—and drove the second spear straight into its chest.
The Grinn didn't scream.
It collapsed into silence.
And was still.
Kaelen crawled to Yolti's side as she coughed and gripped the ground like it was the only real thing left.
He whispered, "You're okay… you're okay…"
The masked one turned, stepping into the filtered light.
Kaelen's eyes locked to the twin blades strapped across his back—curved and split, glass-wrought, pulse-threaded.
One of them… he recognized.
A sword told only in bedtime stories now.
The Crystal Monarch.
"Who—" Kaelen started, breath ragged.
The figure didn't answer. He was already walking.
Yolti reached weakly toward him, her fingers shaking, lips parted in disbelief. "Wait… please…"
But he vanished through the veil of trees.
Kaelen staggered to his feet, burning arm tucked tight to his ribs. "We need to go after him."
Yolti nodded, but her face was pale, lips cracked, and voice quiet.
"…he didn't say a word."
"No," Kaelen said, turning back toward the shadows. "He didn't have to."
They ran.
But the path was already empty.
Not a trace left but the fading warmth of lightning through bark and the stillness of a Riftborn made to bleed.