The Veil did not drag Kai under.
It ripped him through.
A soundless explosion of shadow swallowed him whole, light bending inward until everything collapsed into itself. Then came the pressure, crushing, stretching, folding. The air screamed without sound.
When it stopped, he hit stone.
He lay there gasping on a cold, uneven floor. The air was damp but hot, the kind that clung to skin and reeked of iron and old fire. He blinked hard, and the room came into focus, jagged walls carved from dark basalt. Chains hung from ceiling beams, some gently swaying but not from any breeze, some dripping the condensation that built up. A single light stone flickered from a grate above, casting a faint violet hue across the chamber.
Voices echoed from the corridor.
"He's alive?"
"Barely. Kaelthar pulled him through before the Watchers finished the crossing."
Kai pushed himself onto an elbow. Three figures emerged from the shadows, pale-skinned, eyes glowing dull red, their movements too smooth, too fluid. Each breath they took sounded shallow, restrained, as though air itself offended them.
They were Bloodborn, not the stuff of tales or superstition, but real. Predators half-bound to the void that birthed them.
Behind them came another, shorter, heavier, shirt torn at one shoulder. His skin carried a faint gray cast, veins of silver light pulsing beneath the surface like smoldering ash. His eyes were not red, but a molten gold, and his jaw clenched as the Bloodborn circled their prize.
"You brought him here?" one hissed. "To Torash?"
"I wasn't leaving him to the Watchers," the shorter one replied, voice low and gravel-deep.
"And the relic?" another demanded.
"Gone."
"Then he's useless."
The Bloodborn turned on him with a screeching cackle.
"Another failure, Kaelthar."
"Maybe you should have let the Watchers take them both."
"Beasts shouldn't play messenger."
The younger man, Malric Kaelthar, stepped forward. The collar around his throat gleamed, a band of black steel etched with runes that pulsed faint crimson when he moved.
"You wanted Theryn blood," he growled. "Now you have it."
The Bloodborn leader appeared behind the others, a thin woman draped in layers of black cloth, her hair pale as bone. Her eyes burned faint amber, reflecting every flicker of movement.
"You brought us one Theryn too many," she said, voice as calm as it was cruel. "We already have one rotting in the dark."
Kai froze.
"What… what do you mean?"
The woman's smile was faint, mocking. "You'll see soon enough. Take him to the lower cells."
Two Bloodborn seized Kai by the arms. Their touch was cold, strength far beyond human. As they dragged him down a corridor, he glanced back. Malric didn't meet his eyes, but his jaw was tight, the muscles twitching like a man fighting chains he couldn't break.
They passed through a series of arched tunnels, air thick with the smell of stone, blood, and rust. The deeper they went, the louder the whispering, distant, inhuman, threading through the walls like the dungeon itself was breathing.
Finally, they stopped before an iron gate.
"In you go, Theryn," one sneered. "Family reunion."
They threw him inside. The door clanged shut.
Kai stumbled forward, landing on his hands. The ground was slick with condensation, the air heavy. A faint light filtered from a cracked lantern hanging nearby, just enough to see another shape slumped in the next cell.
"Who's there?" Kai whispered.
The figure stirred. A cough. Then a voice, rough and low but unmistakable.
"You shouldn't be here, boy."
Kai's heart stopped. "Grandfather?"
The man shifted closer to the bars, eyes catching the weak light, tired, rimmed with red, but alive.
"They weren't supposed to find another of us," Tomas rasped. "One Theryn was already more than what they needed."
Kai gripped the bars between them. "What do they want?"
"The hook," Tomas said. "The same thing they've always wanted. But listen to me, you felt it, you touched it didn't you? Kai, it isn't cursed. It calls. And now that you've touched it… you'll hear the others too."
Footsteps echoed down the corridor, Malric's heavy stride among them.
Before Kai had a chance to respond he was interrupted by his grandfather.
"Quiet," Tomas hissed. "They're coming."
The torches dimmed. Somewhere deep in Torash, the shadows shifted, like the dungeon itself had just turned to listen.
Torash never slept. It whispered like old hauntings.
The stone walls pulsed faintly, veins of black iron running like arteries beneath the surface. Chains groaned when no one touched them. The air reeked of copper and something faintly sweet, like spoiled fruit.
Kai sat hunched in the corner of his cell, staring at the cracked lines cut into the floor. They glowed in slow rhythm, a heartbeat he couldn't tell was his or the dungeon's, but everything felt connected.
Across the corridor, Tomas shifted, voice low.
"Stay quiet when they come. They like fear more than answers."
The sound came before the light, boots dragging over rough stone, a distant metallic hiss as a door unsealed. Then the glow of torches bloomed down the passage, the fire dim and gray.
Three figures appeared first, Bloodborn.
They glided more than they walked, pale skin dusted with a sheen of black mist that curled away like smoke. Their eyes were thin rings of ember light. One sniffed the air and smiled.
"Fresh. The scent of Echo still clings to him."
Behind them, chains rattled. Malric Kaelthar emerged, shoulders bowed to fit through the arch. A heavy collar clasped around his neck glowed with faint runes, binding him. His chest rose slow, deliberate, every movement spoke of restrained violence.
One Bloodborn sneered.
"The Lunarborn brings us another stray. Tell me, Kaelthar, do you collect them for company?"
Malric's reply was measured. "He would've died to the Watchers. You wanted Theryn blood alive, didn't you?"
"Alive, yes. Conscious, that's not necessary," another hissed, smirking.
Their leader entered last, the Warden of Torash, tall and spectral, draped in layered black silk that moved as if underwater. Her presence carried weight without sound, a gravity that made the air tremble.
"Enough," she said softly. "Mockery is wasted on those who still bleed."
She stopped before Kai's cell. Her gaze flicked over him, slow and assessing. "Another Theryn, when one already rots in the dark. Curious."
Tomas stirred at that, his chain clinking once.
"You keep him for what reason?" Tomas asked, voice thin.
The Warden's eyes narrowed. "Because Theryn blood resonates. It hums when relics stir. You, your boy, are a compass we didn't ask for."
She turned to Malric. "And you, why bring him here instead of finishing the job?"
"Because I'm not your butcher," Malric said. His voice was quiet, but the echo filled the chamber.
A ripple of dark laughter answered him.
"Not our butcher," one Bloodborn said, circling him, "but our beast all the same. The moon pulls your leash tighter than any chain."
Malric didn't move. His golden eyes caught the faint torchlight and reflected it like molten metal.
"You'd have never reached him without me. You hide in shadow, but you don't fight in it."
The Warden smiled faintly. "We move through the Veil. You barely survive beneath it. You're here because strength without obedience has no value."
Kai's pulse quickened. "You can move through the shadows… you mean the same void you pulled me through?"
The Warden's eyes cut toward him. "That was a fraction of it. The Shadow Veil bridges the old fractures between worlds. We pass through where light dies. The Lunarborn cannot without our help. They are bound to the tide of the moons."
She tilted her head, studying him. "Tell me, Theryn, did you feel the relic sing?"
Kai hesitated. "It didn't sing. It warned."
The Warden's smile faltered for the first time. "Warned you of what?"
"The Watchers," he said.
A whisper rippled through the Bloodborn, uneasy, almost fearful. The Warden's gaze darkened. "Careful with names you don't understand. The Watchers belong to older depths than you can imagine."
Tomas spoke up, voice strained.
"He doesn't know what he's saying. Leave the boy out of your feud."
"Quiet, old man," she snapped. "You've told us enough lies to last three lifetimes."
Malric moved before she finished, a single step forward, chains biting into his wrists.
"Enough." He said defiantly.
Her attention snapped to him. "You forget yourself."
"You forget why I'm still breathing."
The torches dimmed at his tone. For a heartbeat, Kai saw his outline distort, the faint shimmer of silver fur beneath the skin, eyes brightening into gold fire. The Bloodborn nearest him recoiled.
Then Malric exhaled, the tension breaking.
The Warden turned sharply. "Take the boy to the lower block. The old one stays."
The guards unlocked Kai's cell. Cold hands dragged him upright. As they led him down the hall, Malric followed, silent but close enough for Kai to feel his presence.
"Why help me?" Kai whispered under his breath.
"Because," Malric said, "your bloodline's the only reason I'm not dead yet."
They vanished into the tunnel's curve, footsteps swallowed by the hum of the dungeon.
Tomas gripped the bars, whispering into the dark.
"If the Bloodborn are stirring the Veil again, the Echoes won't stay buried for long…"
The air grew colder as they descended. The torches thinned until only faint violet sigils marked the walls, their light too weak to be called fire. The corridor opened into a vaulted chamber lined with iron doors.
A guard shoved Kai forward. He stumbled, catching himself on a chain post. The cell they threw him into was wider than the last, but darker, the only light came from the cracks in the floor. The air was cleaner than above and could feel faint trickle of water off into the dark.
Malric followed, his own chains clanking as the guards fastened them to the wall opposite Kai's. One Bloodborn lingered, sneering.
"Be gentle, Kaelthar. We wouldn't want the Theryn broken before the Warden decides who bleeds first."
Malric lifted his head just enough to meet the vampire's gaze.
"Go ahead and open that door after full moon. See who's broken."
The guard's smirk faltered. He spat a curse in a forgotten tongue and left, the door slamming shut behind him.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The silence here was thick, oppressive.
Kai finally asked, quietly,
"Why do they keep you chained? You're one of them, aren't you?"
Malric gave a short, humorless laugh. "One of them? Not quite. The Bloodborn were made of hunger. I was made of anger."
He leaned back against the stone, the chain groaning as he moved.
"The Lunarborn came later. Human once. The Echo twisted our line when the first moons fractured, left us stronger, faster, harder to kill. But it also burned temper into bone. On a full moon, the pull hits like a madness. That's why they keep me leashed. They like my strength. Fear the rest of me."
Kai studied him in the dim. His wrists were raw from the shackles, but he sat with a soldier's stillness, breathing slow through his nose.
"And the Bloodborn?"
"Old as the fall itself," Malric said. "They learned to move through shadow to survive the sun. But the light burned their flesh thin. They can't fight the way they used to, so they hide. They use the Veil to strike unseen, and use us to do what their bodies can't."
"Us?"
"Lunarborn, Echorin-touched, anyone stupid enough to owe them a life."
The faintest glimmer of gold flickered in his eyes when he said it.
Kai hesitated. "You saved me. Why?"
Malric looked up at him fully for the first time. "Because I knew the name Theryn. I've heard it whispered through the Veil for years. Your blood hums like theirs did, the ones who sealed the first relics."
He shifted forward, chain rattling. "You can feel them, can't you? The Echorin. That pull in your chest when the hook touched you."
Kai nodded, slow. "I thought it was fear."
"It isn't," Malric said. "It's memory. Not yours. The world's."
They sat in silence a moment, the words settling like dust.
"They'll come back for me," Kai murmured. "For the, Echorin."
Malric shook his head. "They'll come for both of us. They think they can use Theryn blood to track what the Echo hides. The hook's only the first piece. There are others, mirrors, stones, bones, all bound to the same hum."
Kai's pulse quickened. "And my grandfather?"
"Still alive," Malric said. "Barely. The Warden keeps him breathing because his blood still sings. But once they've mapped every note, they'll drain him dry. That's how Bloodborn learn: they drink memory."
Kai's stomach turned.
Malric's gaze softened just slightly. "If you want to save him, you'll need to leave Torash before the next moonrise. The Veil weakens then. So do their shadows."
Kai stared at him. "Why help me escape?"
"Because I don't belong in chains," Malric said simply. "And neither do you."
He leaned back again, closing his eyes. "Rest, Theryn. Before I change my mind."
The hum of the Veil deepened, vibrating through the walls until Kai's teeth ached. He closed his eyes, and somewhere in the distance, beyond the metal and stone, he thought he heard the faintest whisper, his brother's voice, carried through the dark.
"Follow the current… I'll find you, Kai."
The Warden's chamber lay deep beneath Torash, where even the Veil struggled to breathe. The air here was colder, thinner, heavy with the scent of charred oil.
Rows of candles lined the walls, their flames inverted, black at the core, pale at the tips, casting ghost light across the vaulted stone.
Tomas Theryn sat chained to a chair carved from onyx, the metal cuffs glowing faintly where they met his skin. His breath came slow but steady. He'd stopped flinching a long time ago.
The Warden paced in slow circles, her silks dragging like whispers.
"You've kept your silence for years," she said softly. "Even now, after all you've seen, you still pretend you don't understand what you guard."
Tomas looked up, eyes shadowed.
"I understand perfectly. That's why it's guarded."
She smiled, a small, sharp curve. "Your bloodline's arrogance hasn't aged well."
He didn't answer.
The Warden stopped behind him, her reflection bending across the glass floor. "You think your family kept the Echorin safe. You think the Theryns preserved the world by sealing them away." She leaned close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You don't even remember what they were meant for."
"I remember enough," Tomas said. "The Echorin weren't gifts. They were echoes of mistakes. Your kind was born from one."
Her smile vanished. "Careful, Guardian. You speak as though the Bloodborn chose this."
She moved to stand before him, eyes burning brighter. "We didn't. When the first fracture split the world, the Veil bled through the cracks. We clung to the only thing that survived the fall, resonance. We fed on it because everything else burned."
"You consumed what you should've protected."
"We adapted," she snapped, the word edged with centuries of bitterness. "And when your kind locked them away, you condemned us to starvation."
Tomas straightened, chains creaking.
"We condemned you to balance."
Silence filled the room. The candles guttered.
The Warden tilted her head, studying him. "You talk of balance as if it's mercy. But tell me this, old Theryn, if the Echorin were meant to destroy us, why do they still sing when your blood touches them?"
"Because they remember who forged them," Tomas said. His voice was quiet, but the words carried. "The relics don't serve blood or hunger. They answer to need, and you, Warden… you've forgotten the difference."
For a long moment, neither spoke. Then she turned away, her voice cooling.
"Your grandson bears the same arrogance. But perhaps he'll break faster than you."
Tomas's jaw tightened. "You won't get what you want from him."
"Perhaps not willingly," she murmured, fingers brushing the air as if tracing invisible threads. "But the Veil remembers the shape of every soul it's touched. If the relic marked him, it marked his Echo. Through him, we may open what you tried to close."
"You're playing with a current that will drown you," Tomas warned.
The Warden's gaze hardened. "Then at least I'll be the one who remembered what the world sounded like before it fell silent."
She turned to leave, the hem of her robes dragging through the candlelight.
At the doorway, she paused. "You should be proud, Theryn. The bloodline did its job. We found him because of you."
The door shut behind her with a hiss of iron, and the candles dimmed one by one.
Tomas sat in the dark, his pulse slow but steady. For a long moment, he didn't move.
Then he whispered, barely audible, "Jaka… if you can still hear me… the Echorin are waking, guard them."
The sound of the Veil hummed faintly in answer, low, patient, and alive.