Rain fell softly through the trees.
Each drop shone weakly, reflecting specks of silver light bleeding from Riven's skin.
He woke with a sharp gasp, his body covered in sweat and mud. His head pounded, his breathing was shallow. For a moment, he couldn't recall where he was-only the echo of Lyra's voice in his mind.
Find me when the next eclipse rises.
The forest was somber, without a sound. Mist curled around blackened tree trunks, and the acrid scent of ash seemed to ghost through the world. He felt the world had changed overnight-or maybe it was him that had changed.
Riven pressed his hand against his chest. Beneath the surface, his veins pulsed with that same silver rhythm-slow, steady, alive. He could still feel her energy there, woven into his own heartbeat.
A sudden rustling snapped his attention to the left. His hand moved from instinct to reach for his sword-only to find the hilt fused with molten metal, half destroyed. He cursed under his breath and crouched low, muscles coiled.
From behind a fallen tree emerged a figure. A soldier Imperial armor scorched and cracked, his face ghostly pale.
"Riven Kael…" the man rasped. "They said you were dead."
Riven froze. "You shouldn't have come."
The soldier's eyes widened as he took a step closer. "The valley there's nothing left. Everyone… vanished. The generals called it divine wrath. They're saying you"
He froze, staring at Riven's arm. Silver light flickered beneath the torn sleeve-faint but unmistakable. The soldier stumbled back in fright.
"You are the curse," he whispered. "The god-killer reborn."
Riven firmed his hands into fists. "I never asked for this."
The soldier shook his head-then whirled to run. But before he got a second step, the ground pulsed-a ripple of energy spreading out from Riven's feet. The air vibrated, leaves disintegrating to ash.
"No" Riven whispered, horrified. Forcing himself to stillness, willing the light to stop leaking back into his veins, the silver glow dimmed slowly, painfully.
When he looked up, the soldier was gone nothing left but his shadow burnt into the earth.
Riven fell to his knees, shaking. His power was growing stronger, hungrier, harder to contain.
You can only choose which world it will destroy next.
Lyra's words echoed like a curse.
He dug his forehead into the dirt, trying to steady his breathing. Find me when the next eclipse rises. But what was that supposed to mean-days? Weeks? How long before the Empire found him?
A distant horn answered his thoughts - faint but unmistakable.
They already have.
Riven stood, gathering what strength he had left. The forest shimmered faintly under the fading moonlight. Ahead, through the trees, he saw a faint path leading north, toward the old ruins of Mirath.
He didn't know why, but his pulse quickened at the sight. It felt as if the world itself was tugging at him-there, to the place where it all began.
A silver feather, wafting from above, landed in his palm as he stepped forward. It glimmered in soft light, then melted into his skin.
And with it came a whisper.
Lyra's voice, distant and hauntingly beautiful.
"Your god is awake, Riven. But so am I."
Riven looked up at the storm-dark sky. The eclipse was gone, yet the moon above still wore a faint scar: a thin ring of light, bleeding silver.
He didn't understand what fate had tied him to that strange, ethereal girl. But one truth was already clear:
The gods hadn't died.
They were waiting.
And he was their spark.
Riven moved through the forest like a shadow silent, deliberate, every step measured. The trees whispered above him, their branches swaying to a rhythm that wasn't the wind's. It was as if the world itself had come alive to watch him.
His wounds were ablaze with silver fire. Every heartbeat sent a dull pulse through his veins, faint light bleeding from his skin. The curse wasn't quieting. It was feeding.
He came to a stream and squatted low. The reflection of the water blurred to his pale face, eyes glowing faintly beneath the surface.
The man staring back wasn't the soldier sworn to loyalty for the Empire.
The other was something else: something for which the world had no name.
"You can't run from it forever."
The voice was not his. From within, it came, as old as time, deep and rumbling. The god's voice.
Riven clenched his jaw. "Then I'll fight it."
Fight me? The ensuing laugh was cold, dark. You already bleed my light, mortal- every breath you take is mine.
Riven slammed his fist into the ground; the earth cracked beneath his hand. The stream rippled outward, silver light spiraling through it. He forced his breathing steady, teeth gritted until the voice faded to a whisper.
Again, he couldn't lose control-not here, not yet.
A rustle in the bushes drew his attention. He rose, blade halfdrawn - what remained of it - until he saw her.
A figure in a dark blue wrapper came between the trees, where the moon caught threads of pale hair. Her eyes were luminous, almost metallic in the poor light like liquid silver.
Riven froze. "Who are you?"
She cocked her head slightly. "You don't remember me?"
Her voice struck him like a memory - soft, melodic, but with an edge that could cut. It struck his chest. Couldn't be.
"Lyra?"
She smiled faintly and stepped closer. "So you remember."
Riven's breath caught. She was different, now-less an impossible, shining apparition from his eclipse-addled mind, more human. and yet utterly not. The air around her shimmered faintly, a reality-bend to make room for her existence.
"You shouldn't be here," he said. "If they find you,
"If they find me, they'll kneel," Lyra said, softly interrupting. "I am not the one hiding, Riven Kael."
He stepped back, his eyes unsure. "I saw you die. You burned in the light."
Lyra's face gentled, and for the first time, a flicker of sadness danced across her eyes. "I did not die. I returned-to where gods sleep. But the eclipse tore open the veil, and now." She glanced to his arm. ".you carry what was once mine.
Riven's pulse quickened. "You mean this curse?
Lyra's eyes darkened, almost in a pitying manner. "No. That is no curse. It's a heartbeat. Mine and his."
The words chilled him. "His?"
"The God of Dusk," she whispered. "The one that ended the heavens. His power runs through you now. But he is waking, Riven… and when he does, the world shall burn once more."
A low thunder rolled through the forest, shaking the ground beneath them. Riven looked up the sky rippled faintly, the stars flickering like dying embers.
"Then tell me how to stop it," he said.
Lyra's eyes shone. "You can't. You can only decide which god rises the next time there's an eclipse."
Riven's heart was pounding. "And what if I choose neither?"
Lyra stepped closer; her voice dropped to a whisper. "Then both will consume you."
For a moment, the air between them quivered incandescent with heat and light, and something far, far more dangerous.
Then she turned, her form beginning to dissolve into pale mist.
"Meet me in the ruins of Mirath," she said softly. "Before the next moon fades."
"Lyra, wait"
But she was gone. Only the faint scent of silver lilies clung to where she had stood. Riven looked to the north, where the horizon pulsed faintly with stormlight. He tightened his grip on his shattered sword, then exhaled. He didn't understand her. He didn't trust her. But something inside him the light, the voice, the pull needed to follow her. The next eclipse was coming. He was, whether he liked it or not, no longer just Riven Kael. He was the vessel of a god. And the gods wanted their world back.