The Descent
The Ruins of Hollowreach were not marked on any map. Eleanor knew this because maps feared the place.
Trees grew in spirals around it. The sky hung still, unnaturally quiet. No animals stirred. No birds sang.
She and Ashryn stood before a staircase half-swallowed by the earth, stone cracked with time, darkness waiting below.
"Are you sure?" Ashryn asked.
Eleanor didn't answer. Her hand hovered above her chest—where the first Vein had burned itself into her bones. It pulsed now, faint and steady, a rhythm not her own.
She descended.
The Veined Cathedral
Beneath the ruins, the architecture shifted. It was no longer castle or fortress—it became cathedral.
A cathedral to something else.
Veins ran along the walls—literal lines of fossilized blood, glowing faintly with crimson and black. The air smelled of wet stone and burnt dreams.
At the center stood a massive chamber. A pulpit of bone. Stained glass, but the colors moved, like skin under light.
Ashryn's voice was a whisper. "This is… wrong."
"It's a temple," Eleanor said, stepping forward. "Built by her cult. To feed the Second Vein."
"And now it feeds you."
The voice was not Ashryn's.
It came from everywhere.
The Veinbound Warden
Something moved in the shadows—huge, limping, yet elegant. Limbs that dragged. A spine too long.
Then it stepped into view.
It was once a priest. Robes fused into flesh. Its arms were bound in chains, yet it held no weapon. Its face was stitched shut, but it spoke without sound.
"You do not belong."
Ashryn drew her blade. "We fight?"
Eleanor whispered, "We flee."
But the Warden was fast. It crossed the room in a blink, swinging one massive limb at Ashryn, sending her flying into a wall.
Eleanor raised her hands—
And the Vein in her chest screamed.
The Choice
Time slowed.
The Second Vein pulsed before her—an altar of ancient stone, cracked down the middle, bleeding black light. It called to her.
"Break me."
"Claim what was hers."
Visions danced across her mind:
Kael Varnoss dead at her feet.
Cities burning in her name.
The Rift split open, and her voice commanding it.
But then she saw Ashryn—broken, bleeding, struggling to rise.
Eleanor stepped forward.
The Warden lunged.
She reached for the altar—
And shattered it.
The Breaking
The Second Vein burst like a star.
Light screamed upward, through stone, soil, and sky—blinding red and ancient black. The entire ruin shook.
The Warden shrieked—its body unraveling, chains ripping through air, robes bursting into ash. It died not screaming, but relieved.
Ashryn crawled to her knees, shielding her eyes.
Eleanor stood in the center of the explosion, hair billowing, skin marked with curling glyphs.
She had broken the second.
Only three remained.
Ripples Across the World
Drosskar – Kael Varnoss
He watched the sky split above the bone-temple. The red light reached even his distant land.
He smiled.
"The Second opens. She awakens," he murmured.
He turned to his high priestess. "Send the Iron Herald. Tell them to prepare the Feast of Thorns."
Vael'Rhime – The Frozen North
In a chamber of mirrors, a man awoke. Eyes silver, veins flickering with frost.
He sat up, reached for his blade, and whispered, "The Queen's heir stirs. The game begins."
He was the Lastblood Prince.
And he would not let her rule alone.
The Rift Beyond Flesh
In the dimension where thought bled into being, shadows writhed.
Aftermath – The Silence That Followed
Eleanor stood over the broken altar.
Ashryn leaned on a cracked pillar, wiping blood from her forehead. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know."
"What did you see?"
Eleanor didn't answer.
She was still shaking. Not from fear—but from power. Not her own… not yet.
The Second Vein had left its mark. Not just on the land—but on her.
Ashryn touched her shoulder. "We have to move."
Eleanor nodded. "The next Vein lies beneath the sea. In the drowned city of Rhaegis."
"How do we even get there?"
"I don't know," she said. "But I know someone who does."
Her eyes burned red for just a second.
And then the light was gone.