The halls of the Abyssal Guild were chillier, it seemed, as Zephyr went down them, his senses sharp, his guard up. It was as if this ritual had left a scar-one unseen, yet palpable, the feel of something torn from him, like the peeling of skin to expose a raw nerve. Every step seemed to resound with some strange sort of finality, reminding him of what loyalty cost and what suspicion surrounded him everywhere.
He was resolute, but a part of him could not shake off the thought that he was marching into hostile territory. Strange thought, really, seeing as his standing among the Conduits-once an ointment in which he took pride-oft felt precarious, almost adversarial. Mira walked beside him in silence, her presence a grounding one as doubt still lingered on her gaze. She had fought for him, but even she could not deny the changes she saw in him, changes he hardly understood himself.
In that rare moment of opening up, Mira was the first to break the silence. "Zephyr, I still believe in you," she said in a soft tone, her eyes perusing his face. "But you have to be more careful. The Guild may believe in you now, but one wrong step…
Her voice trailed off, but the warning was implicit. Zephyr nodded curtly, his face grim. He didn't need her to say it; if anyone knew what hung in the balance, he did. With one final look, Mira strode away, leaving him to his thoughts.
He walked down the tortuous corridors, the itch growing, the summons from the shadows unabated. The whispers of Kael'thar had subsided since the ritual, yet still they remained, lurking at the edge of his mind, waiting. He felt himself being drawn to the Guild's library-a huge darkened room of leather-bound ancient tomes lining the walls, replete with secrets he had yet to learn. Further down his instincts pulled him, down into the recesses that only a senior Conduit dare tread.
He found himself, amidst the rows, stopping before one tome: thickly dust-covered and bound in dark leather that seemed to drink in the surrounding light. The title, etched across it, faintly, almost invisible in the dimness, read The Abyss Unbound. His fingers followed the letters, a shiver running through him at the pulsing energy within.
The book flew open, and in that instant, Kael'thar's voice slithered into his mind-low and insidious. Ah, curious, aren't we? Knowledge is power, Zephyr. And power is freedom.
He shrugged off the voice and began to scan over the pages. The book was filled with fragmented writings about Abyssal Entities-powerful beings bound to the shadows-and forbidden rituals used to summon them. It was, however, a section related to the Abyssal Conduits themselves-someone who had learned to wield the darkness, as he had, but had in turn been changed by it-that really caught his eye. There was a corruption that followed, warned the text, but it hinted at something else, as well: a strength hidden, a potential that overshadowed ordinary Conduits.
He read on, his pulse quickening with growing excitement. This was the ability known as Abyssal Convergence-a way of merging Arcane and Abyssal energies within oneself to create a new, different form of power. In return, the risk would be great: few had tried, and none emerged unscathed. A price they say it pays in a Conduit's very essence, lost into darkness in exchange for power beyond measure.
Zephyr's mind was racing. This had to be the answer, the way to prove himself without losing control. If he could harness both energies, then he'd be able to protect himself from doubt of the Guild-to say nothing of the tempting of Kael'thar-and even the shadows within himself.
Liar, it whispered again, the voice taunting. They will never accept you, Zephyr. You are mine, Abyss'. But if you're ready to sacrifice, I could show you…
He forced the voice down, fire in his resolution complete. His chance to rewrite fate, if that meant he had to risk everything, so be it. But he would not go with the guide of Kael'thar, and neither would he let the Abyss take over. On his terms-in mastery, not as a puppet to the darkness-he would find out about Abyssal Convergence.
He slipped the book under his cloak and was out of the library. The corridors stretched out before him, endless, it seemed, but he had already set his mind on his objective.
Back in his quarters, Zephyr pored over the ritual described in the book. The Abyssal Convergence was no ordinary technique; it called for focus and precision, and absolute abandonment of fear. Every step of the ritual had been constructed to break down the barriers between Arcane stability and Abyssal chaos, enough for both energies to fuse in that one brief, strong moment. He knew of the danger, but the need to be in control was overwhelming, stronger than any doubt.
With focused essence, he prepared himself, drawing the described symbols for each line. Shadows thickened his frame as the room grew cold; they listened and moved to his will. Ominous shadows gathered and swirled around him in a near-sentient manner. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and regulated his heartbeat to center himself into the present.
He spoke the words of the incantation low and resolute. The glyphs flared to life, throwing a macabre shadow on the walls, crackling in the air, charged with energy coursing through. He felt the mass of the Abyssal presence, dark power writhing inside, pulsating to his heartbeat. For the first time, he found harmony he had never felt, a balance that held the chaos at bay.
And in the flashing instant, he was whole-whole in a manner he had never been-and his terrors and ambitions and humanness all interwoven in one coherent, oriented mass. He raised his hand, and the shadow took form: a dark blade seething with soundless, killing power. It was not like any he had used before-neither Arcane nor Abyssal but somehow new.
In that moment, energy welled up inside him-pressure he could not bear. His vision doubled, and he choked on such energy as he tried to gain control of himself, his body shaking because of it. He became aware of Kael'thar's existence-not a whisper but a roaring fire-a reminder of the power he dared to tap into.
You play with forces beyond your comprehension, hissed the voice, almost in delight. Alone you cannot handle it.
"No," Zephyr growled, clamping his teeth together and letting the blade dissipate, the energy retreating back into its dormant state. The darkness drew back, and he fell onto his back, gasping for air. His body was hurting, his mind exhausted from the strain, yet he'd done it. He'd felt the power, touched it, harnessed it-if only for one short-lived instant.
But he knew that would not suffice. If he was actually to tap into the power of Abyssal Convergence, he needed training, someone who comprehended the Arcane and the Abyss as he did.
The thought was as hazardous as the ritual itself, yet only one name appeared to pop up within his mind: Kieran. The older Conduit was the only person inside the Guild who really seemed to understand the subtleties of shadow manipulation. Always pushing him, testing him to see how much further he could press himself with his power, Kieran had regularly urged him to see just how far he could actually go with it. In his opinion, if there was somebody who could help him without having to reveal his purpose, that would be Kieran.
The next morning, Zephyr sought out Kieran, finding him at the training grounds. His eyes were as sharp as ever, though his stance was relaxed, alert. He watched Zephyr for a very long time, his gaze reaching almost inside the boy, as if he saw the change in Zephyr, the resolve now hidden under the unruffled surface.
I need your help," Zephyr said, his eyes finally meeting Kieran's. "There is something I have… discovered. A technique that could let me manipulate the Abyss without falling under its control. But I am unable to achieve this alone."
Kieran's eyes narrowed, and his face crossed with a flicker of interest. "A technique, you say? One which deals both with the Arcane and the Abyss?
Zephyr nodded, his tone even. "It's called Abyssal Convergence. It's dangerous, but I know I can do it. I just need someone to guide me-someone who understands what I'm trying to pull off."
Kieran regarded him in silence for a moment, inscrutable. Then, with a slight nod, he gestured for Zephyr to follow.
Alright," Kieran said, the low tone with an edge to its wariness. "But let me make one thing clear: great power takes great sacrifice. If your decision to pursue this path is a truthful one, you will have to be prepared for giving up everything, including yourself."
Zephyr exhaled, feeling the gravity of his decision pressing down on him. "I know what's at stake, Kieran. I'm ready.
Kieran's eyes gentled; a look of respect crossed his features rarely. "Then let's begin.".
The deeper into the Guild they went, the more Zephyr felt that the weight of fate was falling upon his shoulders. He could understand more and more that he was entering a world so much darker and stronger than he had ever imagined, but for the first time, he felt a purpose-certainty that he was no longer just some pawn in a game of the Guild.
It was a path he had carved for himself toward either utter strength or being consumed utterly by it. And with the shadows closing in around him, he knew he was ready for whatever awaited him.