The snow fell heavier that evening, blanketing the Thornwatch outpost in muffled silence. But beneath the stillness, the air crackled with unease. Rumors traveled faster than the storm winds, and by nightfall, they had reached Aelric's ears.
Aelric leaned over the rough map spread across the small table in their assigned quarters — an old hunting lodge turned barracks. Candles flickered, casting shadows across the parchment.
"Ancient ruins uncovered near the Broken Expanse," Rhea read aloud from a torn scout report. "Entire excavation team slaughtered. No bodies recovered."
She tossed the paper aside, eyes grim. "Hollowborn?"
"Possibly." Aelric's gaze traced the map, lingering on the marked location beyond the Frost Hollow. "Or worse."
There had been other reports:
Villages going silent along the northern reaches.
Phantom sightings of winged creatures — too large to be birds.
Whispers that the Covenant's High Priestess herself had dispatched inquisitors beyond their borders.
It painted a clear picture — and none of it was good.
Rhea paced beside him. "We should leave. Before the Thornmaster decides you're more dangerous than useful."
"He already knows I'm dangerous," Aelric replied evenly. "The question is whether I'm more dangerous to their enemies… or to them."
The door creaked open. A young Thornwatch runner stepped inside, breathless. "The Thornmaster wants you. Now."
Aelric rose, cloak settling over his shoulders. The Shard at his belt pulsed faintly — a quiet, restless heartbeat only he could hear.
Moments later, they stood once more in the Thornmaster's war room. But this time, they weren't alone.
The chamber was crowded with Thornwatch officers, mages, and — notably — two figures clad in crimson-trimmed robes, bearing the sigil of the Covenant.
Aelric's eyes narrowed. Inquisitors.
Dren's expression was unreadable as he spoke. "The situation escalates. The Covenant demands cooperation in investigating the disappearances beyond the Expanse." His gaze flicked to Aelric. "And they've taken an… interest in you."
One of the inquisitors — a pale, sharp-featured woman with predatory eyes — stepped forward. "Relinquish the artifact, boy," she said coolly. "And we'll consider leniency."
Aelric didn't move. "Leniency isn't a language I speak."
The room tensed. Soldiers shifted. Hands drifted toward weapons.
Thornmaster Dren raised a hand, silencing the room. His gaze locked onto Aelric.
"You hold a dangerous power," Dren said, voice low but firm. "And dangerous power attracts enemies." He gestured to the map. "If you truly want to stand against what's coming… prove it."
His finger landed on the Broken Expanse.
"Lead a scouting party. Find the ruins. Bring back answers."
Aelric understood the unspoken message.Succeed — and earn cautious trust.Fail — and they'd wash their hands of him… or worse.
He met Dren's gaze without flinching. "I'll go."
Rhea touched his arm briefly, quiet solidarity.
The inquisitors exchanged looks — suspicion lingering. But they didn't press further. For now.
As the meeting dissolved, Aelric felt it — the world tilting, fate pulling taut like a drawn bowstring.
The gathering storm was no longer distant. It was here.
And Aelric Veyne intended to meet it head-on.
...
The snow thinned as they traveled south, but the cold deepened, clinging to skin and bone like a silent predator. The Broken Expanse lived up to its name—a vast stretch of jagged hills, crumbled ruins, and fractured earth.
It was a place whispered about in taverns and temples alike. A cursed land where ancient wars had scarred reality itself.
Aelric's party was small by design—quick enough to avoid detection, expendable enough for the Thornwatch to deny involvement if things went poorly.
At his side, Rhea walked with practiced ease, her eyes sharp, her short blades within easy reach. Behind them followed:
Bren Corvan, a Thornwatch scout with a scar bisecting his jaw and eyes too haunted for his age. Quiet. Reliable. Possibly watching Aelric for Dren.
Tallis Vael, a contract mage with silver-threaded gloves and an ego large enough to match his talent. His constant smirk grated, but his illusions were useful.
And two Thornwatch foot soldiers whose names Aelric didn't bother to memorize—they would either survive, or they wouldn't.
The Expanse stretched endlessly before them: cracked ground veined with frost, skeletal ruins jutting like broken teeth, and—most unsettling—silence.
No birds. No animals. No wind.
"Feels wrong," Bren muttered, eyes scanning the terrain. "Like the world's holding its breath."
Rhea's hand never strayed far from her blades. "Or something's waiting."
Hours passed. The sun sank behind gray clouds, and the twisted remnants of stone towers emerged from the fog. Faint carvings, ancient and worn, whispered of forgotten empires—before the gods abandoned this place.
Aelric's System chimed softly in his mind:
[You have entered a Forgotten Zone: The Broken Expanse.][System Restriction: Partial Interference Detected.][Warning: Temporal distortions possible.]
He tensed. Temporal distortions meant one thing—the seals here were weakening.
Bren crouched suddenly, signaling for silence. Ahead, in the shadow of a collapsed temple, something moved.
Shapes.
Not human. Not Hollowborn.
Aelric squinted. Figures clad in pale robes, faces hidden behind porcelain masks etched with archaic runes. Their movements were precise, unnatural. Their presence… wrong.
Tallis whispered, "Cultists?"
Aelric's eyes narrowed. "Not Covenant. Older."
The masked figures began chanting—low, guttural, vibrating the air itself. Sigils ignited in the fractured earth.
Crimson light pulsed. A rift began to tear open.
"Stop them," Aelric ordered coldly.
Steel rasped free. Magic crackled.
Their quiet expedition had just turned into a battle.
And the Broken Expanse was only beginning to reveal its true horrors.