Raen woke to the smell of wet grass and sharp herbs packed into his wounds.
His eyes opened slowly. Clouds drifted overhead. His bones felt shattered, but… he was alive.
Nira sat nearby, arms crossed, bags under her eyes. "If you ever decide to fight someone with floating blades again," she muttered, "do it when I'm not around."
Raen tried to sit up. A mistake.
"Stay down," she said, shoving him back. "You're full of cracked ribs and idiot juice."
"Where's… Asha?" he rasped.
"Gone. Vanished before I arrived." Nira paused. "But someone else showed up."
A shadow blocked the sun.
Raen turned his head—and saw a tall figure squatting next to him, grinning like a fox.
He wore a long grey cloak over light leather armor, and a massive curved blade rested against his shoulder. His blond hair was tied back in a loose braid, and a scar ran along his jaw like a stitched smile.
"Yo," the stranger said. "You Raen Vohar?"
Raen blinked. "…Who's asking?"
"Talin Varros. Former Vohar Outer Disciple. Current lazy bastard. Word is, you've been stirring graves and pissing off cults. Thought I'd drop by."
Raen stared. "Why?"
"Because I'm bored. And because someone needs to keep you from dying before you do something interesting."
Raen looked at Nira. "Do we… know him?"
She shrugged. "He beat up three clan enforcers last year because they overcharged him for a teacup. He's insane."
Talin beamed. "True."
Raen groaned.
Talin stood, stretching. "But lucky you—I came with news. The clan elders are sending a field team to investigate something under the Old Trial Grounds. Word is it's leaking whisper energy and drawing Crimson Fang scum."
Raen sat up despite the pain. "The Broken Vault?"
Talin raised an eyebrow. "So you've heard of it."
"I've seen it… in a dream."
That shut Talin up for a moment.
"…Creepy," he muttered. "I like it. You're coming with me. So is hammer-girl over there."
"Excuse me?" Nira snapped.
"We'll need your rune knowledge. The Vault is sealed with old Vohar sigils. You're the only person under eighty who can read them."
She paused. "…I do like breaking things open."
Raen pulled himself to his feet. His ribs screamed. His mind throbbed. The whispers were quiet again—but watching.
"Why are they sending us?" he asked.
Talin tossed him a folded scroll. "Because no one else wanted it. Too many vanished down there. But if we survive—"
"We earn status," Raen finished.
"And silence the voices calling you a cursed cripple," Talin added with a wink.
Raen looked at his sword, still blood-stained. Then at the scar where Asha had cut him. Then at the sky.
He nodded.
"I'll go."
---
📍 Later That Night — The Vohar Clan's Eastern Cliffside
Three shadows stood at the edge of a deep ravine where the Trial Grounds began. The stone path twisted into darkness, ancient runes flickering like dying embers. Beyond lay the Broken Vault—a place sealed since before Raen was born.
Talin cracked his knuckles. "We ready?"
Nira clipped a light-crystal to her belt. "Only if you're not planning to get possessed."
Raen stepped forward, his hand resting on his sword. The whispers stirred.
"I'm ready."
As the three descended, the runes behind them went dark.
And far below, a sealed blade opened its eye.