We float hand in hand,descending in darkness but seeing clearly in the tunnel we're falling through. I hear whispers around me,not making out the words they say because the voices escape me before I hear them fully. Shadows brush against me in caresses that feel like they're tugging at me. I make out distorted figures and shapes as we pass in a blur.
I am not new to this. It's where I vanish through whenever I purge. My little secret. Not even my papa knows I am capable of it. And that is why I burn an amount of trees before I veilshift.
I am more than anyone thinks,but I'm not sure how much.
I see another doorway up ahead and what I see beyond stuns me so much that Corven drags me through.
"What is this place?"
There's light that burns white in tubes and cylindal containers. Only they're not burning,they're just bright,shining . There's colourful writing on light parchment pasted on walls. With detailed colorful drawings that seem real and tangible.
"This is the modern world. Come on,we have to go."
Just then I hear a loud toot toot coming from a tunnel ahead and what sounds like a heavy monster running at high speed.
"Modern world? I thought only the Veltrith Dominion existed."
He drags me down a staircase and opens a door that says, 'do not enter'. We go right through and appear in what looks like a dark desert instead of the storage space I saw in the room we entered.
"Where are we now ?"
"The Ashwaste descent. We're not in direct territory, just the edges. We're not trespassing. This palace has been abandoned for a long time."
"Then what are we doing here? What are you doing here?"
His jaw clenches as if restraining himself from speaking.
"You remember the scourgeborn that were banished into the sea of singing teeth?"
"Yeah,I do."
"We believe that they are stirring. They want out and something out here is helping. We don't know what,but I'm here to find out. I lost my men here to those things."
"How sure are you that it's the banished scourgeborn? They are still trapped,how can they have anything to do with it?"
He runs a hand through his hair.
"It's our only explanation. Have you read about any other entities that caused more damage than they did?"
"No,but I haven't heard anything big amiss."
"That's because my house is supposed to prevent it before you hear of it. It's getting out of hand and we still don't know what we're up against."
Unlike the other Legacy Houses, Arkael's seat was not gained by blood but by merit—causing tension with older, money-bred houses.
They don't fight on the battlefield—they eliminate threats before they get to that point
Arkael is the Dominion's behind-the-scenes executioner.
I look around and spot nothing,until Corven walks toward an area filled with discarded weapons,no bodies.
"Fuck."
I hurry over examining and noticing that the weapons are fresh and unmarked. Like they weren't used ever.
"Why would someone leave new weapons out here?"
Arkael bends down and picks A double edged mirror blade the Arkael's are known for and examines it. Good as new.
"They aren't new. They have only been made like this by those entities. They don't leave behind evidence of their presence,that's why finding out what they are is so hard."
And that's when I notice all the ash that the weapons rest on. I squat and run my finger through and look at him,expecting an explanation.
"The remains of my soldiers and probably the entities,if they managed to kill them."
"Shit."
He barks a humourless laugh.
"Yeah,shit. Meticulous motherfuckers. There's no way to know what they are. I don't even know if this has happened before."
"It has. I'm pretty sure these entities are-"
There's a gust of wind that comes suddenly and blows ashes to our faces,we stand abruptly and when the ash clears up,my heart stills.
Lir'zhal
"Lir'zhal."
Corven echoes my thoughts in a hushed voice.
"Well,well. Look who we have here."
The voice echoes in my mind,raspy and yet,smooth.
Lir'Zhal is a blind, floating, eyeless entity whose surface is surrounded by shimmering veils of reflective silk, revealing the very essence of who one truly is—not appearance, but essence: one's private self.
Where one's face should lie is a rim of seven flames, each outline being the face of some unseen eye, twitching in at random times.
Lir'Zhal is telepathic, but not surface-mind-reading—deeper, into memory, motive, submerged emotion, and soul-buried truth. Deceit disintegrates before it. By looking into a person, it sees all possible futures—what may be, what should be, and what will be if nothing is done to prevent it.
"Blood of Drevik, veiled in steel and in silence—your marrow writhes with a truth that would see you burned beneath your own name.
A whisper lies beneath your skin, illicit and ancient—a Scourgeborn soul fostered in flesh not its own.
They call you daughter,but your birth was a veil stitched in lies. The future kneels to you, blind to the flame you carry.
By your side goes the one who fetters your storm, unaware. Step with care—your house grins with knives.
When the veil is thin and voices are loud, remember: not all kin are keepers. Betrayal wears familiar faces.
Stand with the one who moors your flame. He is your anchor, your ruin, your only truth."
I furrow my brows,looking at Corven,who looks quite settled for someone who just found out that I am not a mere mortal.
Before I can say anything and ask questions that are burning in my mind. Lir'Zhal speaks again.
"Son of Arkael,you must stand by the girl you have always loved at all times. It will be yours and her undoing if you dessert her,tamer. Now fight, for the wicked does not sleep. And remember,the banished are not your enemies."
He begins To fade
"Wait-"
But he's long gone and in his place,an army of masked fighters.