The temple's sanctum was silent except for the slow, steady breathing of Raine and Sylara. The trial had changed them—though neither had spoken yet, the weight of their experiences lingered in the air like the remnants of a passing storm.
Seraphis watched them with quiet satisfaction. "You have passed the first threshold. But strength alone will not guide you to victory."
Raine rolled his shoulders, still feeling the raw power surging through him. It was different now—not wild and uncontrollable, but his. The energy pulsed beneath his skin like an extension of himself, no longer a foreign force struggling to break free.
Sylara was the same, yet different. Her stance was steadier, her eyes sharper. The inner turmoil she had carried since fleeing Elyndra seemed quieter, as if the storm inside her had momentarily settled.
"We need to move," she said finally, breaking the silence.
Seraphis inclined her head. "Indeed. The trial has stirred the world beyond this temple. Your presence will not go unnoticed."
Raine frowned. "You mean Varian?"
Seraphis gave a slow nod. "He is searching for you even now. But he is not the only one."
A cold sensation crawled up Raine's spine. He knew the battle with Varian was inevitable, but if others were coming… that meant they were running out of time.
"What's our next move?" he asked.
Sylara sheathed her sword, her expression firm. "We need allies."
Raine blinked. "Allies?"
She turned to him, silver eyes steady. "If we're going to survive what's coming, we can't do it alone. Elyndra's court will never support me, but there are factions beyond the High Court—exiled warriors, rebel groups, hidden sects. If we can bring them together, we might stand a chance."
Raine exhaled. "You really think they'll just join us?"
Sylara's lips twitched slightly. "Not without persuasion."
Raine smirked. "And by persuasion, you mean…?"
"Strength."
Seraphis crossed her arms. "A war is brewing, and you will need more than just strength to win it." She motioned toward the temple entrance, where the golden glow of dawn had begun creeping in. "The first step is deciding where to begin."
Sylara turned to Raine. "We have three options."
The Three Paths1. The Exiled Blades
A faction of renegade warriors who had been cast out of Elyndra for opposing the High Court's rule. They were once the finest swordsmen in the land, but years of exile have turned them into a ruthless, honor-driven force.
"They will not pledge loyalty easily," Sylara warned. "But if we prove ourselves, they could become our strongest fighters."
2. The Riftborn
A mysterious group said to exist between realms, neither fully of this world nor the next. Legends claim they were once guardians of the Rift, exiled when the connection was severed.
"If they still exist, they may know how to restore the Rift," Seraphis added. "But they do not reveal themselves to just anyone."
3. The Abyss Watchers
A sect dedicated to hunting the forces of the Abyssal Court. Though secretive, they are among the few who understand the true dangers of the Rift's instability.
"They may be willing to fight against the Abyssal Court," Seraphis said. "But they do not trust outsiders."
Raine ran a hand through his hair. "Great. So, no matter what we choose, it's going to be dangerous."
Sylara smirked. "Would you prefer an easy path?"
Raine let out a dry laugh. "At this point? No. I just thought I'd at least get to enjoy our victory for more than five minutes."
Sylara's gaze softened slightly. "We'll have time for that later."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, finally, Raine turned back to Seraphis.
"What would you choose?" he asked.
Seraphis regarded them both before answering. "The Riftborn."
Sylara frowned. "Why?"
Seraphis glanced at Raine. "Because if Raine is truly the key to restoring the Rift, then they are the ones who will have the answers he needs."
Raine swallowed. He hadn't forgotten what Seraphis had said before—the Rift was not just a connection between realms, it was alive in some way. If the Riftborn knew more about that, then meeting them wasn't just about gathering allies.
It was about learning the truth.
Sylara studied him. "What do you think?"
Raine hesitated for only a moment before exhaling. "The Riftborn."
Sylara nodded. "Then that's where we go."
Seraphis stepped forward, holding out her staff. The temple walls trembled slightly as the air around them shifted. "Then I will show you the way."
The Journey Begins
The trek through the mountains beyond the temple was grueling. Though the sun had risen, the air was thin, the terrain jagged and steep. The only signs of life were the distant cries of unseen creatures and the whispering wind that carried an eerie stillness.
Raine adjusted the sword strapped to his back, glancing at Sylara, who moved effortlessly across the treacherous path. He still wasn't used to the way she carried herself—every step was deliberate, every movement controlled.
"You've done this before," he noted.
Sylara glanced at him. "Exile teaches you to survive."
Raine frowned but didn't push. He knew she wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet.
Seraphis led them forward, her steps unfaltering as they reached a plateau overlooking a vast canyon. Below, mist curled around jagged rocks, hiding whatever lay beneath.
"There," she said, pointing toward the heart of the canyon. "That is where the Riftborn are said to dwell."
Raine peered down. "I don't see anything."
"You won't," Seraphis said. "Not unless they allow it."
Sylara crossed her arms. "And how do we make them 'allow' it?"
Seraphis smiled faintly. "By proving you are worthy."
Raine sighed. "Of course."
Before he could say anything else, the ground shifted beneath them.
The mist below stirred, rising like a living thing, curling around their feet.
A voice echoed through the canyon.
"Who dares seek the Riftborn?"
Raine's pulse quickened. He reached for his sword, but Sylara stopped him.
"Wait," she murmured.
A figure emerged from the mist—tall, shrouded in shifting energy, its form neither solid nor entirely real. Its eyes glowed like dying embers, flickering with ancient knowledge.
"You do not belong here," the figure said. "Turn back."
Sylara stepped forward. "We came for answers."
The Riftborn's gaze flickered toward Raine. "You… are different."
Raine tensed. "Yeah. I've been getting that a lot lately."
The figure watched him for a long moment before speaking.
"You wish to understand the Rift?"
"Yes," Raine said firmly.
"Then you must face its truth."
The mist surged, wrapping around them in an instant. The world vanished in a swirl of energy, and Raine felt himself falling.
Sylara's voice barely reached him before he was consumed by the void.
"Raine!"
Then, everything went dark.