The assignment came quietly, passed in a sealed envelope from a cathedral clerk who refused to make eye contact. Silas held it between two fingers, the wax seal crumbling slightly under the pressure.
Velira stood beside him, arms crossed. "What do you think? Real mission, or another 'test'?"
Cass glanced over her shoulder. "It's too vague for a test," he said, voice low. "There's something they want us to find. Or clean up."
The paper inside was written in the same looping script used for most cathedral decrees. It bore no emblem, only the barest description:
> Investigate the sealed outer district near the Broken North Wall. Abandoned following the last great tide. Tread cautiously. Observe. Do not disturb the ruins unnecessarily. Return with records or anomalies. Mission ends upon return.
Three entrants approved: Silas, Velira, Cass.
Clerk Jovan.
"No mention of danger," Velira muttered. "That usually means a lot of danger."
Still, none of them refused.
---
They left through the north gate beneath the ever-hanging dark, lanterns dimmed to preserve fuel. The guards barely looked up. Few ever returned from the Broken District, and fewer still went by choice.
They walked in silence at first, boots crunching against frost-stiffened soil. It had been decades since anyone had been sent out this way. The world beyond the walls lay in heavy stillness—no birds, no insects, not even a breeze.
Until the howl broke through.
Silas's eyes went wide. "Down!"
Something massive shot from the crumbling ruins on their right, a beast of charred fur and bone. A hellhound. But this one was different—larger, jaws thicker, its back lined with flickering glyphs.
It lunged straight for Velira.
Time twisted.
Silas's eye bled.
The silver thread shimmered before him—faint, but enough.
He tackled Velira, sending her rolling away a heartbeat before the hound landed where she'd stood.
Cass's Light Path ignited, burning the beast's side as Velira's effigy struck from the other flank. Together, the three drove the creature back—just long enough for Silas's effigy to loose a blinding Ashpiercer Bolt, tearing through the creature's throat.
The silence returned as fast as it had been shattered.
Velira sat panting. "I would've died."
"You didn't," Silas said. He turned away before she could see the blood running from his eye.
---
By the time they reached the ruined city, they were sore and silent. The skyline loomed like cracked teeth—half-swallowed buildings and shattered stone roads. This place had once been part of their city, long ago, before something devoured it.
Now, it was a graveyard.
The frost was thicker here. Cass exhaled slowly, mist curling from his mouth. "Nothing's moved in here for years."
Silas felt it too. That uncanny wrongness.
They split up just enough to cover ground, staying in sight of one another as they passed through decaying homes and toppled lamp posts. An old sigil glowed faintly on a broken wall. Silas ran a finger across it—it pulsed slightly.
"What's this?" he whispered.
Not a trap. Not a ward.
A marker.
---
They found the book inside what looked like a crumbled archive. It was buried beneath shards of glass and a collapsed shelf. Silas dusted it off carefully, flipping past torn pages until something caught his breath.
Diagrams. Effigies. Multiple effigies.
And notes—old, desperate ones—scribbled in the margins about fragmenting soul threads and artificial anchoring.
Velira leaned in. "What is it?"
He hesitated, then smiled thinly. "Nothing useful yet. But… it's something."
He didn't tell her it mentioned paths forgotten. He didn't tell her it described a way to split one's burden across more than one vessel.
He tucked the book away.
---
They set camp inside a shattered cathedral hall—pillars broken, glass long gone. They weren't done with this place. Not yet.
But they'd begun to unearth what it once was.
And the city… was beginning to whisper back.