The air in the ruined city felt heavier as Kael led the group through its crumbling streets. The vision from the chamber weighed on him like a physical burden. Every step he took, Veyrune seemed to hum faintly, its resonance more subdued yet insistent, as if guiding him forward but keeping its secrets.
"Any chance you'll explain what just happened?" Elara's voice broke through the silence. She was at his side, her expression caught between irritation and concern. "We disappeared into some ancient dreamland, a glowing spirit tells you to 'be the anchor,' and now you're quieter than usual. What's the plan, Kael?"
Kael didn't look at her, his jaw tight. "The plan hasn't changed. Get the villagers somewhere safe. Find more answers. Stop Eren."
"Eren?" Elara's voice rose slightly, drawing a few wary glances from the trailing villagers. "Did you miss the part where the Rupture is swallowing the world and that sword might make you its next victim?"
"I didn't miss it," Kael said sharply. "But right now, we're alive, and that's more than we could have said yesterday."
Elara opened her mouth to respond but stopped herself, her lips pressing into a thin line. She shook her head and fell into step beside him, her silence louder than any argument.
The group paused near the remnants of a market square, its once-bustling stalls now reduced to skeletal frames. Kael motioned for the villagers to rest. Korin's mother handed him a piece of dried bread, which he chewed without tasting. His eyes scanned the buildings around them, looking for signs of life—or worse.
"We can't keep moving like this," Elara said, crouching beside him. "They're exhausted. You're exhausted."
Kael didn't respond immediately. He watched Korin as the boy sat with his figurine, tracing its worn edges with a finger. "We can't stop for long. This city isn't safe."
"I know," Elara said softly. "But you won't get answers if you're dead."
Kael let out a slow breath. "One more push. There's a library nearby. If the Order kept records anywhere in Veyland, it'll be there."
Elara raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? Or is that just the sword whispering sweet nothings again?"
Kael glanced at Veyrune, its runes faintly glowing. "It's a lead. Better than wandering blind."
Elara sighed. "Fine. But if we run into another one of those stone things, you're letting me take the first swing."
The library was a towering structure, its facade weathered but intact. Stone gargoyles perched along its edges, their faces twisted into grotesque snarls. The massive double doors stood slightly ajar, their iron handles rusted and cold to the touch.
Kael hesitated at the threshold, his hand tightening around Veyrune. The sword's hum grew louder, its runes pulsating faintly. "Stay close," he said, pushing the doors open.
The interior was dark, the air thick with dust and decay. Rows of shelves stretched into the shadows, their contents a mix of crumbling tomes and scattered debris. A faint glow emanated from deeper within, pulsing softly like a heartbeat.
"Wonderful," Elara muttered, her knife drawn. "Another creepy glowing thing. Haven't had enough of those lately."
Kael didn't reply. He stepped carefully, his boots crunching on shattered glass and loose paper. The hum of Veyrune was constant now, resonating in his chest like a second heartbeat.
As they moved deeper into the library, the glow became brighter, emanating from a pedestal in the center of the room. Unlike the orb they'd encountered before, this light was contained within a crystalline sphere, its surface smooth and flawless.
"Don't touch it," Elara warned, her voice sharp.
Kael approached slowly, his eyes fixed on the sphere. The runes on Veyrune flared, casting a pale light that illuminated the room. As he reached for the sphere, a low growl echoed from the shadows.
"Kael," Elara hissed, her knife already in her hand.
From the darkness, shapes began to emerge. They were humanoid but twisted, their forms shrouded in shadow. Their eyes glowed faintly, and their movements were erratic, jerking as though controlled by invisible strings.
"Shadows," Kael muttered, raising Veyrune.
The creatures didn't wait. They surged forward, their movements fluid and unnatural. Kael met the first with a wide arc of Veyrune, the blade's light slicing through the shadow and dispersing it into smoke. Elara was at his side, her knife flashing as she drove it into another creature's chest.
"They're endless!" she shouted, dodging a clawed hand that swiped at her.
Kael gritted his teeth, the weight of Veyrune growing heavier with each swing. The sword's magic flared with every strike, but the toll on his body was immediate. His muscles burned, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
"Keep them off me!" he called to Elara, stepping toward the pedestal.
"Are you serious?" she snapped, slashing at another shadow. "This is not the time for glowing artifacts!"
Kael ignored her, his focus on the sphere. He reached out, his fingers brushing its surface. A surge of energy coursed through him, and the room was bathed in blinding light.
When the light faded, the shadows were gone. The library was silent, save for the sound of Kael's ragged breathing. Elara stood a few feet away, her knife still raised, her expression a mix of anger and disbelief.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded.
Kael didn't answer immediately. He stared at the sphere, its glow now dim and steady. In his mind, he could hear a faint voice—fragmented and distant, like an echo through water.
"Another fragment," Kael murmured, his grip on Veyrune tightening.
Elara frowned. "Fragment of what?"
Kael turned to her, his expression grim. "The bond. The Rupture. This was left by the Order, but it's not complete. There are more."
Elara shook her head, her frustration evident. "And what happens when you find them all? You end up like the last guy? Dead, trying to hold the world together?"
Kael's jaw tightened. "If that's what it takes."
Elara stared at him, her eyes narrowing. "You don't get to make that decision alone."
Kael didn't respond. He turned back to the sphere, its faint glow casting long shadows across the room. In the silence that followed, he could feel the weight of the journey ahead pressing down on him.