The Weaver's Echo stepped back from the socket, their robes rustling like dry leaves. "You are not ready to place another," they said. "Each shard requires more than power. It requires… memory."
Kael frowned. "Memory?"
"Not just yours. His."
The Echo turned slowly, pointing toward the far end of the cavern, where roots twisted into a jagged archway, barely large enough to crawl through.
"He was the first," the Echo whispered. "The original Gatekeeper. Before the Rift was fractured. Before even Nihlari Prime took form."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "He's alive?"
"Barely," the Echo said. "But yes. Trapped in a sanctuary that was once a prison. He is the key to understanding what you are… and what you might become. But beware—he is no ally."
Kael nodded slowly. "Then it's time I met him."
The Journey to the Gatekeeper
The path was hidden—carved through places where time twisted sideways. The map the Echo gave him was no ordinary parchment, but a thin sheet of darkweave crystal, etched with lines that shifted when touched. It led through the Hollow, into the Veilgroves—forests warped by time and silence.
Kael traveled alone.
Through fields of frozen lightning.
Across bridges that whispered his doubts in his own voice.
At night, the stars spoke in codes he couldn't yet read.
It took three days before he reached the canyon.
The sky above the chasm was cracked—a split seam in the world. And across the rope bridge, hidden in the cliffs, stood an ancient door made of stone, bone, and shadow.
Kael stepped through.
The Sanctuary-Prison
Inside, the world bent.
Trees grew upside down. Rivers flowed into the sky and turned into mist. Time echoed like footsteps. The deeper Kael walked, the more he felt like he was being… unmade.
But at the center of it all, within a collapsed temple made of Riftstone, he found the Gatekeeper.
Or what was left of him.
A man—no, a being—wrapped in armor of black glass and thorns, seated on a throne made of Riftshards fused together. Chains of silence bound him to the floor. His eyes were closed, his breath slow.
Kael stepped closer.
And the Gatekeeper spoke.
"You came late."
His voice was cracked thunder. "The others failed."
Kael didn't flinch. "I'm not the others."
The Gatekeeper opened one eye—its color beyond color, like the void between stars.
"No," he rasped. "You are the mistake that shouldn't exist… and yet, perhaps, the only one who can rewrite the end."
The Forbidden Revelation
Kael stepped forward. "Tell me what I am."
The Gatekeeper chuckled—dry and hollow. "You are the consequence of mercy and war. A vessel built from balance. A walking contradiction."
Kael clenched his fists. "Give me answers, not riddles."
The Gatekeeper raised a hand—and the temple shifted.
Images burst into the air. Kael saw six beings: ancient, powerful, alien. They once ruled as the Weavelords, keepers of reality itself. But one—Nihlari Prime—grew curious. Obsessive. She pierced the Rift to see what lay beyond.
And in doing so, she fractured it.
But Kael… he was part of the last safeguard. A living ward. A contingency created by the Weavelords before they fell. A guardian meant not to destroy, but to restore.
"You weren't born," the Gatekeeper whispered. "You were knotted into being by threads we could barely control. And now you carry their last hope."
Kael staggered back. "Then why don't I feel powerful?"
"Because you're incomplete. Half-threaded. The Shardweave is only your initiation. To become what they intended… you must claim the six relics of the First Weave."
Kael looked up. "And where are they?"
The Gatekeeper smiled faintly. "That's the forbidden part."
With a gesture, a wall behind him dissolved, revealing a map burned into reality itself—six points glowing across six realms: the Sea of Waking Bones, the Red Labyrinth, the Hollowed Sky, the Mirrorgrave, the Forgotten Furnace, and the final: Aether's Maw.
"Each holds one relic," the Gatekeeper said. "But none come without cost. The Weave tests its heirs."
Kael exhaled, the weight of destiny settling onto his shoulders once more.
"So what happens if I fail?"
The Gatekeeper's face turned dark.
"Then Nihlari wins."