The Bleeding Expanse
They walked on soil that bled.
Eleanor's boots squelched as she stepped forward, but it wasn't mud beneath her feet—it was red, dark, and warm. The Bleeding Expanse stretched across the horizon like an open wound, and the sky above was the color of a dying bruise.
Ashryn kept a hand on her sword hilt, watching the horizon for movement. They hadn't seen another living soul in hours, but that didn't mean they were alone.
"Are you sure this is the way?" she asked.
Eleanor didn't answer. Her eyes were distant, and her pace was steady, driven by something deeper than instinct.
She could feel it. A pulse beneath the earth, not unlike her own heartbeat. Except it came from the Vein—the thing Seraphyne's memories had hinted at, the ancient powerline that once tied the Queen's empire together.
Now it was waking.
Elsewhere – Drosskar, Continent of Salt and Flame
Far beyond the Sea of Spines, across storms and shivering skies, stood Drosskar, a continent fractured by war and bone.
Deep within a bone-temple carved from a dead leviathan's spine, Warlord-Priest Kael Varnoss stood before his followers.
He was tall, bald, and wrapped in a cloak of stitched flesh. At his back stood a slab etched in molten runes—the Titan's Testament, the last scripture of the gods drowned by Aeryth.
"The Queen's fall has unsealed the bloodroads," Kael intoned. "The Hollow Throne stands vacant. The Rift stirs."
His followers—barefoot and marked in blood—chanted in low, throaty hums.
"We shall not kneel again," Kael continued. "We shall rise as titans once did. We shall tear the Veins from the earth, and write a new world."
A wind howled through the temple.
And something answered it.
Back in the Expanse – Whispers Beneath the Skin
Eleanor paused.
The air had shifted.
Not colder—but thicker. As if the land itself was exhaling after centuries of stillness. She fell to one knee, placing her palm against the ground.
Ashryn crouched beside her. "What is it?"
Eleanor closed her eyes. "It's listening to us."
Suddenly, the ground cracked.
A line of crimson light split the soil ahead, stretching for miles like a glowing vein. Eleanor's hand recoiled—but her eyes remained fixed.
It was the first visible Vein of the World.
"Run," she whispered.
A shriek tore through the Expanse.
Something had awoken.
The Thing That Followed
They ran.
Behind them, the air shimmered with heat—and then warped. A creature made of ribcage and mist burst from the cracked soil. Its limbs were uneven, too many and too long. Its face was a void.
Ashryn turned, blade drawn. "I'll hold it—"
"No!" Eleanor shouted, grabbing her hand. "It doesn't bleed. You can't kill what was never alive."
They ducked into a ravine.
The creature followed, hovering over stone, screaming soundlessly.
Just as it closed in—
A child stepped from the shadows.
She was no older than six. Pale eyes. Tattered dress. Her feet never touched the ground.
The creature stopped.
The child raised one finger—and the creature unraveled into ash.
The Prophecy of the Child
Ashryn's sword clattered to the ground.
Eleanor stood frozen.
The child looked up at her.
"You broke the first vein," she said, voice clear and distant. "Now four remain."
"Who… are you?" Eleanor asked.
"I'm what's left of the Queen's debt."
The child walked to her, placing a cold hand on Eleanor's heart.
"When the fifth vein breaks… you will not be Eleanor anymore."
"What will I become?"
The child smiled sadly.
"You'll become what she feared most."
Then she vanished.
Ashryn whispered, "Eleanor, we need to leave. Now."
Back in Drosskar – The Rite of Flame and Bone
Kael Varnoss stood before a pit of boiling blood.
Into it, he threw the bones of his father.
"This world shall be ours," he chanted.
A figure approached behind him—cloaked in rusted iron and whispering in tongues.
It knelt and offered Kael a severed hand.
"The first Vein broke. We felt it across the sea."
Kael grinned. "Then the time has come."
He drew a dagger from his side, and carved the sigil of the Titan God Tharos into his chest.
"Let the gods return."
Meanwhile – In the Queen's Empty Grave
Far beneath the ruins of Aeryth's once-great temple, hidden beyond shadow and curse, a whisper echoed.
It was not from the Queen.
It was not from the world.
It was from the Rift.
"She walks, blind and broken. But we see. We wait."
A breathless chuckle.
"Let her open the rest. Let her free us."
At Camp – Eleanor's Decision
Night had fallen.
Ashryn sat sharpening her blade, watching Eleanor stare into the fire.
"Why didn't that thing kill us?" Ashryn asked.
"She stopped it."
"The girl?"
Eleanor nodded.
Ashryn leaned in. "We should go back. Find Seraphyne. Get answers."
Eleanor shook her head.
"We go forward. The second Vein lies in the Ruins of Hollowreach. And after that—the third sleeps beneath the sea."
She stood.
"The world was built on her bones. Now I'm going to dig them up."
Ashryn looked up at her.
"You're changing."
"I know," Eleanor whispered.
"And I don't think you're scared of it anymore."
Eleanor stared into the flames.
"I'm not."