The path beyond the Fla Gate wasn't a path at all.
It was a wilderness of ruins and sky-roots—trees growing upside down from clouds, their branches threading through broken archways that hovered midair. Ti didn't move here. It looped—and Raen had learned to ignore the clocks.
But sothing was different now.
The blade in his hand, Silence Between, pulsed like a heartbeat. And with each pulse, the world bent slightly, just enough for him to notice the rules were changing.
That's when the beasts ca.
Not hostile. Not welcoming. Just... curious.
A massive hound made of smoke and silver eyes padded beside him in silence. A moth the size of a wagon flitted overhead, trailing emberdust that made Raen cough. Even the trees seed to breathe, reacting to his presence.
Then ca the voice.
Not from the sky. From the space between his ribs.
"Call us."
Raen stopped.
"Call you?"
The silver hound tilted its head.
"Your soul has been marked by creation. Fla rembers you. Na us, and we co."
It wasn't command.
It was invitation.
Raen closed his eyes.
He rembered.
The hound—loyalty born in loneliness. The moth—beauty made from burned dreams. The whispering vines—shelter woven from betrayal.
He opened his mouth.
And nad them.
The world shivered.
Symbols—fractured, glowing—etched themselves into his palm. His body didn't just gain power. It accepted it, like recognizing a forgotten friend.
New Shatterborn Echo: Aspect of the Summoned Fla.
He could now call creatures born from mory and aning. Each one tied to a part of him.
But the cost—
A mont of dizziness struck him. His thoughts slipped sideways. One second he rembered Lyra. The next, he thought she had never existed.
He gritted his teeth.
Not all power cos clean.
---
Later, he stumbled into a courtyard made of drifting stones and water suspended mid-air.
A boy sat atop a shattered throne, legs swinging.
Not a boy, Raen realized.
A prince.
He wore no crown, but his eyes were silver and bored. A sword leaned lazily against the stone beside him, untouched.
"You look like soone who just got kicked in the soul," the boy said, grinning.
Raen blinked. "...Who are you?"
The boy stood, gave an overly dramatic bow. "Prince Keir of the Ninth Fla. Or forr prince. Depends who's asking."
Raen said nothing.
Keir looked him over. "You're from the Gate, right? You sll like regret and ego."
Raen raised an eyebrow. "And you sll like abandonnt."
Keir grinned wider. "Touche."
Then—
His face grew serious. "You're the one they're whispering about. The one who cut Aevia."
Raen's fingers gripped Silence Between. "You spying for the Godmarked?"
Keir shook his head. "I'm done with gods. They made heir, then tried to burn alive because I saw sothing I shouldn't."
Raen hesitated.
"...What did you see?"
Keir's smile dropped completely.
"I saw the gods afraid. Afraid of the Threadrift. Afraid of you. And ."
Silence.
Then a butterfly landed on Raen's shoulder—one of the summoned kind.
Keir blinked. "Okay, that's new. You a druid now?"
Raen shrugged. "It's complicated."
Keir gestured at the floating stones. "Well, if you're not going to kill , help kill this boredom. There's a vault below here. It's sealed. Rumor is it contains a Flaborn Beast."
Raen narrowed his eyes. "And you want to help you open it?"
Keir's grin returned. "Well, I was going to trick you into it. But since you seem like the stabby type, honesty felt safer."
Raen sighed. "Fine. But if sothing bites , I'll feed you to it first."
Keir laughed. "Deal."
---
The descent into the vault was not heroic.
Raen fell twice.
Keir triggered three false traps.
At one point, they argued for twenty minutes about whether a rune ant "death" or "cheese."
It ant "cheese." And it summoned mold rats.
By the ti they reached the core chamber, both were bleeding, irritated, and oddly... smiling.
"This feels like a terrible idea," Raen muttered.
Keir tossed him a flask. "You say that like terrible ideas aren't half your personality."
Raen smirked. "You don't know ."
"I don't need to. I can sll the angst from here."
The chamber doors groaned open.
Inside was silence.
And in the center—
A cocoon.
Glass. Smoke. Fire.
Raen stepped forward.
Inside the cocoon lay a creature—half stag, half storm. Its antlers were made of fractured ti. Its heart glowed like embers.
A Flaborn Beast.
Raen reached out.
The creature opened its eyes.
"You are not the first who tried to na ," it said, voice like thunder and lullabies. "But you may be the first who listens."
Raen knelt.
He didn't command.
He rembered.
A life in the forest. A fla that would not die. A creature that watched over exiled children.
He whispered the na.
"Ashveil."
The cocoon cracked.
The creature stepped forward.
And bowed.
Raen's heart skipped.
Keir clapped, stunned. "Okay. I'm officially your sidekick now. No takesies-backsies."
Raen groaned. "I already regret this friendship."
"You'll regret it more when I start singing ballads about you."
Ashveil growled lowly, amused.
And for the first ti in a long, brutal while—
Raen laughed.
A real laugh.
Broken. But real.
---
[LORD APPENDIX – Aspect of the Summoned Fla]
This rare Shatterborn echo grants the wielder the ability to summon creatures tied to their identity, emotions, and mories. Each summon cos with a price—fragnts of mory or pieces of the self—but provides unique abilities and battlefield flexibility.
Ashveil, the Flaborn Stag: A powerful creature bound to Raen's soul through rembrance. Capable of traversing unstable tilines, generating shields of fla-mist, and communicating with dream-beasts.
Prince Keir of the Ninth Fla: A forr heir to a forgotten divine line, cast out after rejecting the gods. Skilled with illusion magic, sarcasm, and deeply inconvenient curiosity.
---
To be continued...
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