They came without a sound.
Three cloaked figures in pale robes appeared on the ridge above their camp—just after twilight—barefoot, faces veiled, mouths stitched shut.
Raen was the first to notice.
He stood slowly, hand moving to the Veinblade.
"Don't," Nira said from beside the fire. "They're not here for you."
Talin looked between them. "Who are they?"
Nira's eyes were hollow. Her voice distant. "The Seal Choir."
The three figures raised their hands in eerie unison. Threads of white script drifted down into the air like ash.
Raen tensed. "What are they doing?"
"They're binding me," Nira said calmly. "The shard is speaking louder than they like."
The runes from their palms struck her like silk ropes—binding her body, her voice, her glyphs.
She didn't resist.
Raen stepped forward. "Like hell you're taking her."
Nira whispered, barely audible, "If I fight back, I might not stay me."
The shard box at her side rattled.
It cracked.
And then exploded.
A glowing mass of symbols burst into the air—a language without meaning. The third shard had awakened.
It hovered above Nira's head like a crown of light.
> "She speaks for us now," the glyphs echoed—not in sound, but in understanding.
The Seal Choir responded with pure silence.
One stepped forward and unstitched their mouth—revealing a blank space. No tongue. No teeth. Just emptiness.
It pointed at Nira.
Raen moved between them, sword drawn. "You'll have to get through me."
The air thickened.
The second Choir monk stepped forward—hands swirling into a spiral of anti-runes. Null ink. Magic that erases magic.
Talin threw a blade.
It stopped midair—unwritten from existence.
Raen charged anyway.
The Veinblade vibrated with fury, red seals snapping loose mid-stride.
But as he closed the gap, the third monk raised a single hand—
And the world muted.
Raen couldn't hear. Couldn't think.
His blade faltered in his grip. His vision blurred.
But someone else moved—
Nira.
The glyphs around her flared. For a moment, her eyes glowed silver-white with no pupils.
She raised her hand, and a wave of symbols surged out, catching the Choir monks in its spiral.
> "Do not silence me," she said, voice layered with hundreds of voices.
The monks were thrown back—disrupted, disconnected, their threads snapping one by one.
Silence broke.
Raen dropped to a knee, gasping. "You stopped them."
Nira turned slowly, swaying like a puppet with cut strings.
"No," she whispered.
"They stopped me. I just… kept going."
She collapsed.
Raen caught her.
The shard glyphs hovered a moment longer, then dimmed—folding back into her.
Talin helped carry her to camp. "What now?"
Raen's eyes narrowed.
"She's bonded. Fully."
"And the Choir?"
Raen looked at the three distant robes—now empty, blowing in the wind.
"Next time, they'll send someone who won't ask first."
---
📍 Crimson Fang Fortress – Seyra's Chamber
A report lay open.
Seyra studied it, fingers tapping.
"She spoke the glyphs," she murmured. "The shard chose her."
Another voice, dark and syrupy, answered from the shadows.
> "Then your window is closing. You said the Veinblade's bearer would fall first."
Seyra stood, cloak rippling.
"He will."
She looked toward a dark blade hanging above her shrine.
"Because I've seen what the fourth shard is becoming."
---