Raiquen Veylthorn
(aka: The Thorn That Turned)
The cavern chamber flickered with dim red light, cast from roots that pulsed faintly with corrupted life. Moss lined the stone walls, and in the center, surrounded by half-burned incense and old prayer glyphs, stood the five members of the Crimson Roots.
Raiquen Veylthorn stood apart from them, arms folded behind his back, his long braid swaying slightly as if responding to an invisible wind. His crimson cloak dragged like a shadow.
A scarred girl stepped forward, her forehead marked with a jagged cut that had never properly healed.
"What's going on?" she snapped, voice sharp and cracking with impatience. "Why did you fail, leader?"
Raiquen didn't answer immediately.
He closed his eyes—briefly—before muttering a name like a curse spat into the soil.
"Eliryn... was there."
The room fell silent.
The girl scoffed. "So what? We can just kill her too—like the rest."
That was the moment the air changed.
