Hollow Ith’rael

Intro Veilrend 35: The Bloom of the Hollow Star Ith’rael Ith’rael drifted between the spaces of minds and matter, where screams became lullabies and thoughts were things to devour. She did not sleep—she spread. When the shard cracked, she felt it. Not in panic. Not in fear. In delight. That sliver she had pushed into Seris—thin as a thread of hair, quiet as breath—had begun to burrow. Even now, she tasted the friction within him: his resistance, his righteous will. It was the same resolve that had undone him once, and it would do so again. But Ith’rael was patient. She did not shatter minds with force. She bloomed inside them like rot beneath bark. She had once taken root in Rhen, and now she lingered still, faint and coiled. In him, she planted questions. In Seris, she planted regret. And in the world, she planted seeds. The battle she’d lost within Eryndra stung, yes, but even that was fruiting. That thing—the forgotten god that woke in the girl—was now weakened from exertion. He’d cast her out, but not destroyed her. And already, her whispers clawed once more at the cracked places of the world. She had no body. Not truly. But if one could see her—they would see a shape in negative: a halo of writhing filaments, each a spine or tendril, eyes blooming like fungus in the dark. Her face changed depending on who looked. To Seris, she appeared as Kaelen. To Rhen, a friend from his childhood. She wore grief like a crown. Now, she hovered at the edge of the shard’s wake. She could not yet re-enter. But she could watch. She could wait. And she could whisper. “Let it crack,” she cooed into the void. “Let him crawl back into the world. I want him to see what’s become of it.” Then she laughed—soft, musical, venomous. And turned her gaze toward the approaching storm.