The Ruins were never silent for long.
The echoes of Draven’s last vow still lingered when fresh noise crept into the cavern — the ring of steel boots, the glow of Dominion torches spilling like oil across broken stone. Two scouts erged from the dark, their half-plate stamped with the sigil of chains. Iron rings bit deep into the hides of the beasts that limped beside them — scarred Servitors, ribs jutting, eyes dim.
Draven’s hands tightened on the halberd. He rembered too many nights when beasts had scread under those brands while he stood powerless. Helplessness had been his only companion. Until now.
One handler sneered, torchlight glinting off his helm.
“Drop that stick, boy. These ruins belong to the Dominion.”
The lotus burned faintly on Draven’s chest. The Codex stirred in his mind — a presence, alive, waiting for his will. He could call it forth now with a thought, but he didn’t need pages to tell him what to say.
“They don’t belong to chains.”
The cavern itself answered.
From shattered pillars, phantom shackles slithered out, glowing like molten veins, hissing as they lashed. They wrapped around the Dominion Servitors, binding throats and limbs, dragging them like marionettes. Even Feyra snarled as a coil snapped across her flank, Stonehide’s plates rang as two shackles looped around its neck.
The handlers cursed, jerking their slave-marks. “Resist them! Obey!”
Draven stepped forward instead. His chest burned, lotus flaring brighter.
“Feyra, break them!”
The fox blurred into a streak of light, her Verdant Step scattering erald pawprints that shredded phantom links wherever she darted. Each print pulsed healing sparks, sealing cuts as quickly as they ca. The lotus glowed faintly with every pulse, beating in ti with her rhythm.
“Stonehide, crush them!”
The lizard slamd down, tail cracking stone. Earthrend Slam sent shockwaves through the cavern, phantom chains snapping as the ground heaved. Runes blazed across its scales, its Runic Carapace burning with light. The lotus flared in answer, glowing brighter on Draven’s chest.
Then Draven charged.
The halberd should have been too heavy, its rusted weight more fit for a soldier than him. But as his pulse raced, sothing surged inside. The lotus blazed, and suddenly the weapon was part of him. His arms steadied, muscles no longer straining. He felt more than himself — Feyra’s speed, Stonehide’s endurance, even faint threads humming from far away: Luma’s timid warmth, the hound’s steady heart, the mule’s tireless patience.
Their lives echoed within him. Shared Vitality.
A scout swung his blade. Draven t it head-on. Steel rang — and this ti, his arms did not falter. He shoved back, overpowering the man with sheer force, and slamd the halberd’s shaft into his ribs. The handler scread, armor crumpling under the impact, body flung against the wall.
Another cracked a whip, sparks spitting through the air. Draven caught it mid-snap, the lotus blazing so bright it seared the cavern with light. He yanked the man forward, halberd butt driving into his jaw with bone-shattering force. Teeth flew into dust.
The phantom shackles shrieked as Draven turned, halberd cleaving them apart. Every strike pulsed in rhythm with his lotus, runes flashing across the broken cavern. Feyra leapt past him, tearing through chains, each bound beast freed leaving a scatter of erald sparks. Stonehide barreled through the last coils, phantom links shattering beneath its plated mass.
One Servitor staggered, its ring split apart. For a heartbeat its eyes cleared, the brand’s haze gone. It bolted into shadow — unbound for the first ti.
The remaining handler crawled back, dragging his bleeding comrade. His eyes were wide, not with anger, but with terror.
“You—your mark burns like fire—what are you?!”
Draven’s fury roared out, years of helplessness breaking in his voice:
“What you fear most—” he stepped forward, halberd gleaming with Codex light, “—I gave it choice!”
The cavern shook with his roar. Chains cracked and dissolved around him, ash and sparks scattering like shattered stars. Feyra pressed close, Stonehide lood at his back, their breaths matching his own — three heartbeats as one.
Draven planted the halberd into fractured stone. His chest heaved, lotus blazing like a second sun. He felt the strength in his veins, heavier, denser, alive with every bond he carried. This wasn’t just rage. This was change.
“For years I was powerless,” he whispered, voice raw but steady, carrying like a vow carved into stone. His gaze followed the fleeing scouts. “Never again.”
The cavern fell into silence. But it wasn’t peace. It was the silence after thunder, when the storm gathers again.
From deeper in the Ruins ca fresh echoes — lighter boots, steady cadence. Torchlight shimred, shadows stretching tall against the walls. Voices murmured in low commands, calm but sharp.
Not Dominion.
League scouts.
The Codex pulsed faintly in Draven’s mind, pages trembling though unsummoned. He didn’t need to call them forth to understand the warning thrumming in his chest, lotus glowing faint against the dark.
More chains await.
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