The refinery groaned with failing rhythm—metal scraping against itself, acid seeping through shattered conduits, chains stirring like murmuring ghosts. Kael crouched low, his back pressing against a rust-eaten conveyor, while Gutter sniffed at an oil-slicked puddle. Her crystalline coat shimmered faintly, catching the eerie green glow filtering through the broken skylights. Three months. That was all he had until the Bond's summons, until Jarek returned. But tonight, that wasn't on his mind.
Tonight, it was the dog.
Something was off.
The first sign had been the spores.
Two nights prior, Kael had woken to the faint scuff of claws on stone. Gutter stood by the refinery's northern wall, pawing at a patch of Oblivion spores. The fungal growth pulsed at her touch, shifting, forming delicate veins like a Shard's. When Kael pulled her back, minuscule crystal shards clung to the stone where her fur had touched.
"What are you doing?" he'd whispered.
Gutter only stared, eyes catching a phantom light.
Then came the Husk-Mimic.
The thing had struck within the Crucible's husked remains, its tendrils slicing through the air. Kael's venom surged, claws extending, but Gutter moved first. She hit like lightning, jaws locking onto the Mimic's throat. Where her teeth met flesh, something unnatural took hold—calcification, spreading in a breath. The Mimic shattered, brittle and lifeless.
Gutter spat out a fragmented Shard, streaked gray and gold, and nudged it toward Kael.
"What the hell are you?" he muttered.
Now, in the dim hush of his makeshift den, Kael rolled the Oblivion shard between his fingers. Gutter lay curled beside him, her breath misting the air.
He had a theory.
Evidence:
— Crystalline Fur: Not just armor. Resistant to filament strikes. — Spore Response: Symbiosis? The spores reacted as if recognizing her. — Adaptation: Her bite induced crystallization.
But no signs of decay. Humans who bore Shards suffered their corrosion, the slow rot from within. Gutter remained untouched.
"Let's see," Kael murmured.
He pressed the Oblivion shard to her paw.
The reaction came instantly.
Gold filaments laced through her skin, threading in delicate patterns. She flinched but held still. Kael barely breathed.
The shard liquefied, dissolving into her bloodstream. A quiet hum resonated beneath her coat, a lattice of gold flashing across her body—then gone.
No black veins. No corruption.
"You're not human," Kael whispered. "The Shard can't consume you."
For humans, Shards fed on the soul, an insidious price. But animals? Their bodies adjusted. No bargain to strike, no debt to pay. Gutter wasn't burdened by the curse—only wielding its might.
She nosed his palm, eyes glimmering with something unreadable.
"You're a Shardbearer," Kael said, barely above breath. "And you got the better end of the deal."
He almost smiled. Almost. But the thought dissolved fast. The Inquisition wouldn't see her as an enigma. They'd see a weapon.
His fingers traced the sharp edges of her crystalline coat. "This stays between us."
Gutter licked his wrist, leaving frost in her wake.
—
That night, Kael dreamed of Jarek.
The Shard clutched in his hand. The black-rimmed veins. The smirk as steel warped like parchment.
"You knew," Kael accused the ghost. "You knew Shards could bind beyond men."
Jarek's laughter echoed, clear as glass. "And you're only just figuring that out?"
—
Dawn brought worse than phantoms.
Two streets from the refinery, Kael found the Inquisition's mark—a raw, blood-red sigil, still wet. They were near.
Gutter tensed, fur bristling. The sigil's edges crystallized as spores recoiled from its touch.
Kael flexed his fingers, venom stirring beneath his skin. "They'll want you too."
Running was an option. But the refinery was a labyrinth, its wreckage their shield.
Instead, he honed a shard of Oblivion into a knife and fixed it to Gutter's harness.
"You're no Stonebreaker," he said, tightening the strap. "But you're mine."
Gutter barked, the sound ringing through the refinery's hollowed bones.
They'd be ready.