The whispers were insistent now, threading through Kael's mind like a melody composed of shards and static. They carried him forward, each step guided by an unseen hand as he descended deeper into the Veil. The faint, pulsing hum of the medallion in his pocket felt stronger with every breath, its resonance vibrating against his ribs like a second heartbeat.
The corridor he followed was narrow and winding, its walls smooth and unmarked—a stark contrast to the corrupted carvings of the upper sanctum. The air grew colder with each step, and the faint flicker of torchlight from above had long since faded, leaving only the soft, rippling glow of Kael's shadow tendrils to light his way.
There was no sound beyond his own breathing, no sense of life beyond the flickering edges of his perception. But the whispers... they filled the silence, guiding him toward something he couldn't yet name.
Finally, the passage widened, opening into a vast, circular chamber.
Kael stopped at the threshold, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before him. The chamber was ancient, its walls carved with intricate patterns that seemed to writhe and shift in the faint light. Symbols spiraled outward from the center of the room, etched deep into the stone floor, their lines glowing faintly with a pale, greenish light that pulsed in time with the medallion's hum.
At the center of the chamber stood an altar, its surface smooth and polished like obsidian. Around it were scattered fragments of parchment, shattered glass vials, and tools that gleamed faintly with a metallic sheen. The air here was heavy, thick with an unnatural energy that pressed against Kael's skin like a weight.
The whispers grew louder, their discordant melody resonating through the chamber as Kael stepped inside.
"Kael…"
His name echoed in the air, carried on a voice that was neither male nor female but something in between—cold, melodic, and suffused with authority.
Kael exhaled slowly, his footsteps light as he approached the altar. His gaze swept over the scattered fragments of parchment, his sharp eyes catching glimpses of strange symbols and diagrams sketched in jagged, uneven lines. They were crude and hurried, as though drawn by a hand trembling with either fear or madness.
He picked up one of the fragments, his fingers brushing against the brittle surface of the parchment. The writing was almost incomprehensible, a mix of jagged runes and words in a language that sent a chill racing down his spine. But there were pieces he could read—phrases that stood out like broken shards of glass.
"The Vessel must endure..."
"Shadow given form, bound by the Choir's will..."
"Perfection requires sacrifice..."
Kael's chest tightened as the fragmented words cut through him, stirring memories buried deep within the fractured edges of his mind. Flashes of pain, of light and darkness colliding in violent chaos, threaded through his thoughts like splinters.
The experiments. The binding.
The whispers in his mind swelled, rising to a crescendo as he turned toward the altar. The medallion in his pocket pulsed violently, its cold surface burning against his skin as though urging him forward.
Kael's hand moved on instinct, pulling the medallion from his pocket and holding it aloft. The greenish light from the altar flared brighter, and the symbols on the walls seemed to writhe and shift in response. The air grew colder, the energy pressing against him like a tide, and Kael's shadow tendrils rippled violently as though caught in a storm.
And then, the altar began to change.
The polished obsidian surface split open with a sharp crack, shadows pouring forth like liquid smoke. They coiled and twisted, their edges sharp and jagged, filling the air with a low, guttural hum that resonated deep in Kael's chest.
A shape began to emerge from the darkness—twisted and unnatural, its form flickering between solidity and shadow.
Kael's breath hitched as the creature stepped into the light.
It was massive, its body a grotesque fusion of flesh and shadow. Its limbs were long and jagged, tipped with claws that glinted like obsidian. Its face—or what passed for a face—was an amalgamation of jagged edges and glowing green orbs that burned with a cold, malevolent light.
The creature's body writhed and shifted, its form never quite settling, as though it were caught in an endless state of becoming.
Kael tightened his grip on his dagger, the shadows around him coiling protectively as the creature turned its glowing gaze toward him.
The whispers in his mind shifted, their tone sharper now, filled with something that bordered on urgency.
"Destroy it."
The creature lunged.
Kael moved instinctively, his body flowing with the grace and precision of a dancer. He sidestepped the creature's first strike, its jagged claws slamming into the ground with enough force to crack the stone beneath them.
The shadows around Kael lashed out, striking the creature's limbs with tendrils of cold, writhing energy. The impact sent it staggering back, but the shadows recoiled almost immediately, their tendrils fraying at the edges as though burned by the creature's presence.
Kael's chest tightened as he felt the toll of his magic pressing down on him. The ache that had gnawed at him earlier flared into sharp, stabbing pain, each pulse of the shadows dragging more of his strength away.
The creature recovered quickly, its jagged form twisting as it lunged at him again. Kael dropped low, his dagger slashing upward in a sharp arc that tore through the creature's shifting flesh.
It screamed—a sound that wasn't a sound, a piercing, guttural wail that filled the chamber and rattled the very air around them.
Kael staggered, his sharp eyes narrowing as the creature lashed out with one of its jagged limbs. He raised his arm to block, the shadows around him coiling into a shield that absorbed the brunt of the impact.
But the force of the blow sent him skidding across the chamber, his back slamming into one of the carved walls.
The creature advanced, its glowing eyes burning brighter as it loomed over him. Kael's breaths came fast and shallow, the pain in his chest threatening to overwhelm him. But his sharp mind refused to falter, his thoughts racing as he calculated his next move.
The shadows around him rippled faintly, their presence weaker now but still obedient to his will. Kael's lips curled into a faint smile, his voice low and steady.
"Let's see how far you can break."
The creature lunged again, but this time, Kael was ready.
He dropped low, his shadow tendrils lashing out with a precision born of desperation. They coiled around the creature's limbs, dragging it off balance as Kael moved in, his dagger flashing in deliberate arcs.
Each strike found its mark, tearing through the creature's writhing form and sending bursts of shadow and flesh scattering across the chamber.
The whispers in Kael's mind surged, their discordant melody rising to a crescendo as the medallion in his hand flared brighter.
The creature screamed again, its jagged form collapsing inward as the shadows around it twisted and writhed in violent chaos. Kael pressed forward, his movements sharp and unrelenting, until the creature's form disintegrated completely, leaving nothing but a pool of dark, writhing liquid on the floor.
The chamber fell silent.
Kael staggered, his hand clutching at his chest as the shadows around him receded, their cold presence fading into stillness. The medallion in his hand pulsed faintly, its light dimming as the whispers in his mind quieted.
He straightened slowly, his sharp eyes scanning the chamber as his breathing steadied. The altar was silent now, its surface cracked and lifeless, and the corrupted symbols on the walls had begun to fade.
Kael slipped the medallion back into his pocket, his lips curling into a faint smile.
"Let them send more," he murmured, his voice quiet but resolute. "I'll turn them all into art."