The world returned in pain.
Caelen's body throbbed, limbs trembling and raw, each breath a battle. He was wedged awkwardly between two massive rocks near the right bank of the river, the current still tugging at his legs. His fingers scraped desperately against the jagged surface, nails cracking as he climbed. A groan escaped his throat—more blood than voice—as he dragged himself onto the bank and collapsed.
The sun warmed his skin, foreign and unforgiving. He rolled away from the water's edge, coughing violently. A crimson splatter painted the grass. His arms were cut, his back burned, and his ribs screamed. Every inch of him ached.
But he was alive.
He blinked slowly, then looked up—and froze.
Above him stretched a sky, unbroken and infinite. A blue so vast it made the Vein Tomb feel like a fever dream. It shimmered between the thick green leaves above, framed by the towering forest around him. He stared for a long time, his breathing ragged.
Tears welled in his sunken eyes.
"It really is beautiful," he whispered. "Mother would have loved it…"
His voice cracked as the tears fell silently. He clutched his chest, overcome by the ache that no wound could explain.
But the moment passed. Clarity returned, sobering.
He sat up, eyes scanning the forest. The trees were impossibly tall and gnarled, branches woven so tightly above they strangled the sun. Strange birdcalls echoed in the distance, and the scent of earth and moisture clung to the air.
A forest. Dense. Wild. Silent.
Fear coiled in his gut.
Then memory stirred.
⸻
He was younger again, muscles sore from endless drills. He lay on the cold stone floor of the Vein Tomb, panting, arms limp at his sides.
"Come here, my boy," Kaelion's voice rang out. "This is no time to rest. If your body is spent, then we train your mind."
Caelen groaned but turned his head.
"When you get out," his father continued, "you'll need to know the world above. I've never seen it myself, but the stories of our elders remain."
"…If I make it out alive," Caelen murmured, barely audible.
Kaelion's stern gaze softened. "Have some faith in yourself, boy. Now come."
Caelen pushed himself upright and sat beside him.
"The land outside is vast—far more than you or I can imagine. There are mountain ranges, swamps, plains… and forests. The Heartcrack Forest—one of the most dangerous places in all the realm, or so the old tales say. The trees grow so thick that light itself fears to enter."
"But it may be your only hope," Kaelion said solemnly. "You won't blend in with the other races. Your blood, your face—they'll know what you are. But the beasts of that forest… they care not for race. They bow to no one. The forest is home to creatures born of raw Veyrith, where it flows so naturally through their veins it's as vital as breath."
"They are deadly. But they are not cruel—not as much as them. And they won't dare to search it."
"Survive, my son," he had said. "Survive."
⸻
Caelen blinked, breath catching in his throat.
Could this be it? Could he be in the Heartcrack Forest?
Relief flooded his chest for a heartbeat—until it was shattered by a chilling sound.
A howl. Low, deep, drawn-out—followed by another. Then a growl. Then another. From every direction, voices in the dark.
The forest was alive, and it was watching.
Terror surged through him. He pushed himself to his feet, legs wobbling beneath him. They're chasing me… he thought, stumbling forward. They must have followed my scent…
The river whispered beside him, its stream flowing deeper into the forest. He limped along it, every step agony. But he moved.
Then—a roar. Deep and close. From behind.
Caelen dove behind a thick tree, breath caught in his throat. The sound rumbled through the earth, primal and predatory.
He dared to peek.
A monstrous creature stepped from the brush. Panther-like in shape but far more alien, its sinewy frame shimmered, its flesh shifting to match the forest. Its face was a mask of clustered nostrils and pulsing sensory pits. Tendril-like whiskers twitched from its shoulders and tail, dancing with every scent.
It was sniffing the blood-soaked ground where Caelen had laid moments ago.
Then, its head snapped toward him.
It can smell me.
It growled—but the sound was wrong. It rumbled like a cruel laugh.
It knew. It knew he couldn't run.
Caelen backed away, knees buckling. He collapsed to the dirt. Cold sweat ran down his neck. His heart pounded like a war drum.
So this is it, he thought, bitterly. After all that… for nothing…
He looked up at the sky once more. Its beauty mocked him.
'No.
No, no, no.
Not yet. Not like this.'
His mind raced. 'What can I do? Think, damn it! Think!' The sound of rushing water reached his ears.
Water…
His eyes shot to the river. It worked once. Maybe it'll work again.
With a cry, Caelen pushed off the ground and sprinted toward the stream. The beast roared behind him and gave chase.
It was fast. Faster than anything he'd faced.
Twelve steps behind him—then ten—then five.
It leapt.
He threw himself into the water.
A claw lashed out, raking down the middle of his back. He screamed in agony—but the river took him.
The beast prowled along the bank, stalking him, eyes glowing with irritation. But it did not enter the water.
It followed for a time, watching him struggle.
Then it stopped.
Its gaze turned downstream. Something ahead gave it pause. Its eyes narrowed. Its nostrils flared.
Then… it growled—not in anger, but in unease—and disappeared into the trees.
Caelen saw none of it.
The water roared around him, battering his body. His strength ebbed. His arms slowed. His legs stopped kicking. The current dragged him deeper, deeper into the forest's heart.
He floated on his back, face to the sky.
'I don't get tired of it…' he thought weakly. 'It's simple. Beautiful. Endless…'
Time blurred. The stream slowed.
Caelen's eyes fluttered open. He raised his head weakly, looking ahead.
And froze.
The river… ended.
No warning. Just a sudden, sheer drop.
Just absence.
He panicked, flailing—his limbs refused him.
Then, suddenly—he dropped.
Air rushed around him. Below, a still lake shimmered, catching the sunlight in radiant gold.
'So beautiful… Enough for me. I can go now. I was free.'
The impact stole his breath. The cold welcomed him.
He sank.
Down into darkness.
Weightless. Sightless.
Memories rose like bubbles in the black—his mother's smile, Kaelion's firelit eyes, the taste of iron, the hum of the Vein Tomb.
'Looks like I couldn't escape the dark after all, sorry father after all your efforts I've failed you', he thought, a weary smile on his lips.
His heartbeat slowed. Limbs stilled. The light from above faded.
But then… something stirred in the depths.
A pulse. Faint. Like a distant drumbeat.
Thump.
It echoed through the water.
Thump. Thump.
Then—a glow.
Soft at first, then brighter. Veins of faint violet light bled from the cracks in the lakebed, spiraling upward like tendrils of smoke. The water vibrated around him.
And Caelen—unconscious, breath stolen—drifted into the light.
The glow wrapped around him like a cocoon. His wounds stilled. The bleeding slowed. And deep within him, something… pulsed in answer.
A flicker of power. Of buried memory. A whisper of a name long dead in this continent.
The lake claimed him, but the light would not let go.