Kaelis's dagger trembled in her grip, its blade catching the faint starlight as she stared at the cloaked figure. The Hollow Crag's wind howled, carrying the distant screech of the Voidspawn, now silenced—whether by the spectral wolf or something worse, she didn't know. The star-shard in her satchel pulsed like a heartbeat, its warmth seeping through the leather, urging her to run, to fight, to do something. But the figure's words—Starborn, Voidveil—rooted her to the ashen ground. She wasn't just a scavenger anymore. She was prey.
"Who are you?" Kaelis repeated, her voice sharper now, edged with the defiance that had kept her alive in the Crag's ruins. "And don't give me riddles. I'm not in the mood."
The figure chuckled, a low, rasping sound that didn't match the menace of their words. They stepped closer, and the shard's glow flared, casting shadows across a face still hidden by the hood. "Names are dangerous in the Shattered Realms, girl. Call me Torren for now. As for what I know…" They tilted their head, as if listening to the shard's hum. "That shard you stole? It's woken things. Things that don't sleep lightly."
Kaelis's stomach twisted. She'd heard of Starborn in whispered tales—those chosen by the Star Crown's shards, destined to wield their power or die trying. But her? She was no hero, just a girl scraping by, chasing ghosts of her sister. "I didn't steal it," she snapped. "It was just… there. And it showed me things. My sister. A crown. A world breaking."
Torren's hood shifted, and she caught a glimpse of weathered skin and eyes like chipped obsidian. "Visions," they said, almost to themselves. "The shard's already bonded to you. Foolish to touch it, but braver than most." They gestured toward the horizon, where the Voidveil's mists churned, thicker now, spitting flickers of unnatural light. "The Astral Court will come for you. So will the Veilborn. And the Voidveil itself… it sees you now."
Kaelis's grip on the dagger tightened. She didn't trust Torren, not with that cryptic tone, but the shard's heat was undeniable, and the air felt heavier, like the world was holding its breath. "What do you want?" she asked. "You're not here to chat about my destiny."
Torren's lips quirked, a half-smile that didn't reach their eyes. "I want you alive, Starborn. At least until you reach Nightsylve. There's someone there who can help you understand that shard—and keep you from turning to crystal."
"Crystal?" Kaelis's free hand went to her burned palm, where the skin felt too tight, too warm. Starburn. She'd heard the stories: Starweavers who pushed their shards too far, their bodies hardening into glittering husks. Her throat went dry. "And why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't," Torren said bluntly. "But you've got no one else. And I know the way to Nightsylve." They turned, cloak billowing, and started walking toward a narrow path carved into the Crag's edge. "Unless you'd rather face the Court's hounds alone."
Kaelis hesitated, glancing at the Voidveil. Its mists seemed closer, whispering in a language she couldn't grasp. The shard pulsed again, and a fleeting vision flashed: Taryn's face, pale and pleading, her hands pressed against a golden cage. Kaelis cursed under her breath. She had no choice. She followed Torren.
The path wound down the Crag's cliffs, toward a rickety skiff tethered to a glowing vine—a relic of the realms' old magic, used to cross the misty voids between lands. Torren climbed aboard, their movements swift despite their age. Kaelis followed, her heart pounding as the vine hummed under her weight. The skiff lurched, drifting into the Voidveil's edge, where the air shimmered with faint, unnatural colors.
"Keep that shard hidden," Torren warned, their voice low. "Nightsylve's no sanctuary. The Veilborn will want it as much as the Court does."
"Who are the Veilborn?" Kaelis asked, clutching the satchel. The skiff rocked, and she gripped the edge, her knuckles white.
"Renegades," Torren said. "Mages who worship the Voidveil like a god. They think the Star Crown's power can feed it, make it stronger. They're half-mad, but they know things—things you'll need to survive."
The Voidveil thickened around them, its mists curling like fingers. Kaelis's skin prickled as the shard's hum grew louder, almost a voice now, urging her to look into the mist. She resisted, focusing on Torren's back. "And you? What's your stake in this?"
Torren didn't answer at first. The skiff glided into a tunnel of glowing vines, and the air grew warmer, heavy with the scent of moss and something sweeter, like overripe fruit. "I was Starborn once," they said finally. "Didn't end well. Let's just say I owe someone a debt."
Before Kaelis could press further, the skiff emerged into Nightsylve. The realm was a riot of color—trees with leaves that glowed like emeralds, vines pulsing with light, and air thick with the hum of life. But the beauty hid something sharp, like a blade under silk. Figures moved in the shadows, their eyes glinting with the same starlight as her shard.
Torren stopped the skiff at a platform woven from vines. A figure waited there, a young woman with skin like polished ebony and hair braided with glowing threads. Her eyes locked on Kaelis, and the shard in her satchel flared, hot enough to make her wince.
"Welcome to Nightsylve, Starborn," the woman said, her voice smooth as a river but sharp at the edges. "I'm Sylra. And that shard you're carrying? It's going to cost you."
Kaelis's hand went to her dagger, but Sylra's smile widened, and the vines around them twitched, as if alive. Torren's hand rested on Kaelis's shoulder, a warning. "Easy," they muttered. "She's your way in. Or your way out."
Sylra stepped closer, her gaze flicking to the satchel. "The Veilborn have waited for a shard like yours. Give it to us, and we'll teach you its power. Refuse, and the Voidveil will claim you before the Court does." Her fingers traced the air, and a faint illusion shimmered—a vision of Kaelis, her body crystalline, her eyes empty.
Kaelis's heart raced. The shard's hum was a scream now, and Taryn's face flashed in her mind again. She didn't trust Sylra, didn't trust Torren, but the shard was her only link to her sister. "I keep the shard," she said, her voice steady despite the fear clawing her chest. "But I'll hear you out."
Sylra's smile didn't falter, but her eyes narrowed. "A bargain, then. Come with me. The Voidveil's watching, and it doesn't wait."