The shard pulsed inside its containment seal.
Nira held it gently, cradled in a rune-scribed iron box. No light escaped the chamber, yet the shard's dull hum threaded through the walls like a heartbeat under stone.
Raen had tried to touch it earlier.
It burned him.
But Nira?
It responded to her.
And now, things were changing.
---
📍 Two Days Later – Trail Between Ghostlake and the Rift Highlands
They traveled through whisper-thick mists, their footsteps muffled by silence spells. The terrain had shifted into cracked ridges and obsidian growths—vein crystal had begun blooming unnaturally in this part of the realm.
Raen kept glancing at Nira.
Her hands no longer needed chalk.
Her glyphs formed in the air on instinct. Floating. Living.
"Something wrong?" she asked, not looking at him.
"You didn't draw that last sigil," he said. "It just appeared."
"I know."
She smiled faintly—but it wasn't her usual calculating smirk.
There was an echo behind it.
Later that evening, Talin returned from a scouting trip with grave news. "Sky rift ahead is sealed off. Some kind of storm ward. Crimson Fang again."
Raen nodded. "We'll cut through."
Talin raised a brow. "We? Buddy, I saw a lightning veil that eats birds midair. Maybe we wait for Nira to make us ghost cloaks again."
They both turned to her.
Nira was already sitting cross-legged, her eyes closed, hands raised—
And a full cloak of glowing glyphs floated around her, wrapping itself onto Talin's body before he even finished his sentence.
Talin jumped. "I—how did you—"
"She didn't even look," Raen muttered.
Nira stood slowly.
"It's easier now. I don't need to understand the runes. The shard shows me what the spell should look like."
Raen stepped forward. "That's not how rune magic works, Nira."
"I know."
"But you're okay with it?"
She looked at him, eyes glowing faintly silver for just a second.
"I'm not sure I'm the one choosing anymore."
---
📍 Later That Night – Whisper Wind Camp
Raen sat sharpening his blade, watching Nira sleep near the shard container.
The Veinblade whispered inside his thoughts.
> "She is unraveling.
The shard is not dormant.
It is lonely."
Raen whispered back, "What do you mean?"
> "Each fragment holds echoes of what it once was. The third shard belonged to the Whisper God of Language. It craves a voice."
Raen stared at Nira's hand.
A new glyph was forming in her sleep, carving glowing letters into the air.
"Talin," Raen called. "Wake up."
Talin groaned. "What now?"
"Her runes are moving on their own."
They both stood, staring as Nira sat up suddenly—eyes wide, but glowing white.
She spoke in a voice that wasn't hers.
> "Who silenced me?"
The shard box cracked slightly.
Raen moved closer. "Nira?"
She blinked.
And the glow faded.
"I… what just happened?"
Raen knelt beside her, hand on her shoulder. "It tried to speak through you."
"I don't remember."
"But I do," Raen said grimly.
---
📍 Vohar Citadel – Elder Maenor's Sanctum
A projection glyph shimmered into form.
"Report," Maenor said.
A scout knelt. "The third shard has bonded with the rune sorceress. Unstable influence detected."
Maenor's eyes darkened.
"Deploy the Seal Choir."
> "Sir?"
Maenor stood slowly.
"If the shard awakens fully… we'll lose more than a bearer. We'll lose language itself."
---