Fractured Rhen

Intro Veilrend 38: The Mind Fractured Darkness. But not silence. There was always something whispering just beneath—like a thousand pages fluttering in a wind that wasn’t real, a library burning in a dream. Rhen floated in that void, a breath away from surrender. But he remembered pain—his own, yes, but also others’. The mother. The guard. The girl. Torn apart like ink run across wet parchment. Then—light. Rhen’s eyes snapped open. The world had reshaped itself again. The sky above was no longer sky, but a slow-churning wound. The smell of char and blood clung to the air. He tried to rise, but every muscle screamed in protest. The Veil still draped over the ruins, thinner now but malignant—an open door still breathing. He remembered Vael. He remembered the shard. He remembered running, but not where she had gone. Only the silence that followed. He was alone. Almost. A sound—soft, like silk on stone. Rhen turned. Eryndra stood there, framed in the flickering half-light of a broken world. She was still, her features sharp with recognition—and something else. Her eyes no longer just her own. Something vast stirred behind them. Something that knew him. Rhen flinched. He didn’t know why, but her gaze cut deeper than the blade of truth. He saw himself reflected not as he was—but as something becoming. “Eryndra…” he rasped, voice raw. “You… survived?” Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first. She tilted her head, studying him like a page that had rewritten itself. “No,” she said finally, voice quiet. “We woke up.” And the way she said “we”— Rhen realized too late— He wasn’t alone. Not in his mind. Not in this moment. The gods were not gone. They were waiting.