Vaelen stood at the edge of the North Precipice, her silhouette sharp against the bruised violet of the Magnitude Plains. She did not look back at Crispin. Her focus remained on the horizon, where the floating islands drifted like slow, predatory clouds. Her massive lavender owl gripped the jagged stone at her feet; its talons hissed as they ground against the basalt.
"The eastern ridge holds a nest of the Feral," Vaelen said, her voice a low rasp that carried over the wind. She tilted her head toward a gaping, lightless fissure in the cliff-side. "They are the remnants of a history Thalandir buried. Kill three of them. If you cannot stomach the sight of their blood, the gravity of this place will crush you before the week is out."
Crispin gripped the Leviathan's Spine until his knuckles turned as white as the bone-clad shaft. The air grew heavier with every step. Living gravity from the Shard-Fall pulled at his limbs, and his boots felt as heavy as lead. These were not the soft, flickering crystals of the upper forest; they were jagged blocks of solidified sun energy.
He shielded his eyes as he walked toward them. The light burned through the mountain mist. Regulus flowed from Crispin's shoulder and enveloped a cluster of the glowing rocks. Regulus' metallic-blue body churned with a violent, internal radiance as he stripped the Sunstone of its power.
Its translucent form grew opaque. His core ignited with an intense, internal fire as his energy reserves became overcharged. Regulus returned to the feathered steel pauldron, his weight doubling as he braced for the dark.
Crispin stepped into the cave. The light of the Sunstone died within ten paces, replaced by a darkness so absolute it felt like a cold shroud. He raised his spear. The bone-teeth crown provided a faint, sympathetic shimmer that reached the walls.
A rhythmic scratch echoed from the shadows. Six Feral emerged from the gloom, their movement erratic and twitching. They were the size of men, with skin the color of fresh ash stretched tight over gaunt ribcages. Their bald heads held large, batlike ears, and their eyes tracked his every breath with uncanny precision.
Monstrous leather wings remained folded against their backs, the hooked claws at the tips clicking against the stone floor. Long fangs protruded from their lipless mouths, dripping with a clear, viscous hunger.
Crispin's heart hammered against his ribs. These creatures possessed faces that mirrored his own in a distorted, haunting geometry. He lowered the point of his spear, his hands trembling.
"Regy, wait," Crispin whispered. "I don't like this. They are too human for my comfort."
Regulus did not wait. The sovereign entity launched itself into the air. His glass-like wings snapped open with the sound of a whip cracking in the silent cavern. He dived toward the lead Feral. A blinding burst of white light erupted from his core as he ignited the stored Sunstone energy.
The Solar Flare filled the cavern with a searing radiance. The Feral shrieked in unison, a high-pitched sound that made the iron in Crispin's blood vibrate. They clawed at their sensitive, dark-adapted eyes. Crispin seized the moment, lunging forward with the Leviathan's Spine. The bone spike caught the second figure in the stomach, but the creature did not fall. It snarled, its clawed hands gripping the shaft of the spear to pull Crispin closer.
A third Feral struck from the shadows. It moved with a speed that defied the heavy gravity of the cave. It slammed into Crispin's side, the weight of the humanoid bat throwing him onto his back. The spear clattered across the stone.
The beast pinned him. Its cold, rubbery skin felt like wet leather against his face. Claws gripped his chin and ripped the gambeson's collar to expose his throat and shoulder. It opened its maw and drove its fangs into the tender flesh of Crispin's shoulder.
Crispin let out a strangled cry as the vampire fed. A terrifying chill spread from the wound. It felt as though the beast were drinking the very heat from his marrow. His vision blurred at the edges. The sounds of the fight grew distant, muffled by the thrumming of his own failing pulse.
Regulus abandoned his assault on the blinded creatures and dived with a predatory roar that shook the stalactites. He shifted his form in mid-air, hardening his edges into a razor-sharp crescent. He struck the beast feeding with the force of a falling razor.
The wyvern's maw found the Feral's throat. He did not strike; he tore. Regulus ripped the creature's windpipe open in a spray of dark, freezing blood. The beast slumped over Crispin, its weight a suffocating pressure on him until he shoved the corpse aside.
Crispin scrambled to his feet, gasping for air that felt like ice in his lungs. He found the Leviathan's Spine. The remaining Feral were recovering, their shrieks growing more aggressive as the smell of blood filled the cave.
Regulus hovered before him, his sapphire scales shot through with a pulsing red light. He did not wait for Crispin to recover. He lashed out with a whip-like tail, striking the fourth Feral across the face while Crispin drove the spear through the heart of the fifth.
Blood slicked the spear's shaft. Crispin roared in defiance as he pulled the spear's tip free. Blood sprayed as the head of the dislodged weapon emerged from the creature's form.
Crispin's shoulder throbbed with a rhythmic agony, but he refused to falter. He needed one more.
"Regulus, Solar Flare."
The brilliant white light lit the cave. Several fled, but Crispin pressed himself forward and swung Leviathan's Spine. The tip missed the fiend's throat, and it bashed its shoulder into his chest. Air escaped his lungs as he slammed into the cave wall. He groaned and fought to regain his breath.
The creature dived toward him with its wings spread wide to wrap him in its embrace. He brought the spear up with reflex, and it skewered the creature through the hollow of its throat.
He wheezed and took a deep breath with effort, and fell onto his hands and knees.
A single soul fragment lay on the floor near the creature that had fed on him. It did not glow with the calm blue of the coastal beasts. It pulsed with a deep, violent crimson. Regulus rolled it toward him with the tip of his snout.
"I will not touch it," Crispin whispered, his voice cracking. He got himself into a kneeling position while he worked to steady his breathing.
Regulus clutched the red shard in his wyvern jaws and looked at Crispin with an unblinking, golden intensity. The sovereign did not ask for permission. He pressed the red shard against the center of Crispin's chest.
Crispin gasped. The red energy surged into his skin, feeling like a wave of liquid fire. It raced toward the dormant Heart of Perseus, embedded behind his ribs. The crystalline organ reacted to the influx of life-force.
A muffled, resonant thud echoed through Crispin's entire body. The sound was deep and ancient, like a drum being struck within the roots of the world. The crystalline heart beat with a soft, steady rhythm.
Crispin fell. He clutched his chest as the foreign pulse synchronized with his own blood. The living gravity of the Shard-Fall no longer felt like a weight pushing him down. It felt like a current he could swim in. He looked at Regulus, and for the first time, he felt the true frequency of his partner's soul.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[ARTIFACT CLASS DETECTED: VAEL'THIRYN SAE'KORR]
The Sovereign Oath-Weaver of the Deep Roots. You are no longer a commander of beasts, but the living anchor for forces of nature.
[SUBCLASS: SHAE'VAELRYN]
The Steward of Unspoken Shadows. This path turns movement into a silent translocation through the aether to strike from the void between heartbeats.
LEVEL UP: 3 → 4 (Crispin)
Level: 3 [180→600 / 650]
Attributes:
Strength 11→12 | Dexterity 12→13 | Endurance 12→13
Perception 14→15 | Will 15→16
The Heart of Perseus has activated. Your trials will earn future stat points; no more stats will be auto gained.
Ki: 35/35.
Aethereal Strike—This controlled dash cannot bypass physical structures.
Blood Recall—If you have bloodied your weapon, you can recall it to your hand.
LEVEL 5: (Regulus)
[10→640 / 850]
Echolocation—Your screams can hunt your targets or stun them. Ability will consume your bonded's Ki.
The hunt was over, and blood had paid the price.