The Abyss Beckons
The chamber was still, save for the distant trickle of water echoing through the stone walls. The air smelled of damp earth and old magic, the kind that lingered in places forgotten by time.
Raine stood in the center, sweat dripping down his brow, his breath uneven. His body ached from the past hour of training¡ªif what Ezren was putting him through could even be called training.
The old man circled him like a wolf studying prey. His gaze wasn¡¯t filled with impatience or disappointment, but something worse¡ªexpectation.
"Again," Ezren commanded.
Raine clenched his fists, focusing on the stone slab before him. It was old, cracked, but solid. Unyielding.
He reached for the Abyss.
It was always there, waiting beneath the surface. Not like Essence, which mages pulled from Realms beyond sight, but something deeper, something woven into the fabric of existence itself.
He pulled.
A ripple.
The stone shuddered, fractures spreading through it like veins of ink spilled across paper.
But then, something resisted.
Raine gasped, his hold slipping. The cracks stopped midway, the stone trembling between existence and destruction.
Ezren exhaled slowly. "You''re feeling it now, aren''t you?"
Raine let out a shaky breath. He didn¡¯t answer right away.
Because he had felt it.
It wasn¡¯t like before, when his power simply consumed. This time, something in the world had pushed back.
Ezren stepped closer, his voice calm but deliberate. "Do you know how normal magic works?"
Raine frowned, wiping sweat from his forehead. "They draw Essence from Realms, shaping it into spells. Weavers take it further, refining that Essence into something stronger, lasting."Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Ezren nodded. "Correct. The foundation of all magic is Essence. But there are rules to how it¡¯s drawn, how it¡¯s shaped. That¡¯s why mages are classified based on their ability to refine it."
Raine had heard about this before, but not in this much depth. He stayed quiet, listening.
Ezren lifted a hand, weaving a simple flame into existence. It hovered above his palm, flickering with steady control.
"This is how it works for them," he continued. "Mages pull from one of the Realms¡ªFire, Wind, Earth, Water, Shadow, Light, even the more obscure ones like Time or Blood. Gatherers, the weakest, can only pull small amounts, often unstable."
He closed his hand, snuffing out the fire.
"Weavers, like Kael, don¡¯t just pull Essence. They shape it, manipulate it at its core. That¡¯s why their spells don¡¯t just exist in the moment¡ªthey can leave lasting effects, enchantments, curses, weapons. The strongest Weavers are called Anchors, because their magic becomes so deeply tied to reality that it no longer fades over time."
Raine absorbed the information carefully. It made sense. Kael¡¯s magic always seemed more precise, more structured.
But¡
"That¡¯s not how mine works," he murmured.
Ezren smirked. "No. It¡¯s not."
Raine clenched his jaw. "Then what is it?"
Ezren¡¯s gaze darkened slightly. He didn¡¯t speak right away.
Instead, he gestured toward the stone slab. "Try again. But this time, instead of pulling¡ªhold."
Raine hesitated but obeyed.
He reached, but this time, he focused on the feeling beneath the power.
A ripple spread through the air.
The stone trembled, the cracks forming again. But this time, they did not spread.
Raine¡¯s eyes widened. He could feel it¡ªnot just the stone, but the space around it.
Ezren exhaled. "There it is."
Raine¡¯s hands trembled slightly. "What¡ what is this?"
Ezren took a step closer, his expression unreadable.
"Essence is drawn from the Realms. That¡¯s what mages use," he said. "But you aren¡¯t drawing from a Realm. You¡¯re pulling from something beneath them."
Raine felt his pulse quicken.
Ezren continued, his voice quieter now. "You don¡¯t consume Essence. You unravel the structure that holds it together. And that¡ shouldn¡¯t be possible."
Raine¡¯s breath hitched.
Ezren let the silence stretch before finally speaking again.
"That¡¯s why the Arcanum fears your kind."
Raine swallowed hard.
Ezren turned back toward the walls of the chamber, running a hand along the carvings. "You ever wonder why the Arcanum doesn¡¯t just kill people like you outright?"
Raine stiffened.
Ezren¡¯s fingers traced one of the sigils, his voice calm. "There¡¯s a reason they don¡¯t just execute you. A reason they go to such lengths to erase your kind instead of simply destroying them."
Raine hesitated. "Why?"
Ezren turned, meeting his gaze.
"It¡¯s because they know that killing you wouldn¡¯t be enough."
Raine¡¯s heart pounded.
Ezren watched him carefully. "You¡¯re not a Void user, Raine. Void users consume. You do more than that."
The words made his stomach twist.
Ezren folded his arms. "If mages draw from the Realms, then what happens when you touch something beneath them?"
The chamber was silent.
Raine looked down at his hands, still trembling from the training.
For the first time, he wasn¡¯t afraid of what he had destroyed.
He was afraid of what he had almost created.
And the worst part?
Somewhere deep inside¡ it had felt right.
A Measure of Strength
The underground chambers of the Weaving Society never truly fell silent. Even at night, distant murmurs of training sessions, the hum of active Essence, and the quiet scratch of quills on parchment filled the corridors. Raine sat against the cool stone wall of his quarters, staring at his hands.
Ezren¡¯s words still echoed in his mind.
"You¡¯re not a Void user, Raine. Void users consume. You do more than that."
What had he almost created?
Raine clenched his fists. He had come here for control. Not more questions.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Get up," Kael¡¯s voice called from the other side. "Training ground. Now."
Raine followed Kael through the dim corridors, his boots muffled against the stone. He had expected another session with Ezren, another attempt to pull at the strange force beneath magic. Instead, Kael led him through a narrow hallway that opened into a vast chamber¡ªa proper dueling ground.
It was larger than the training area he had seen before, lined with runes carved into the walls to suppress stray magic. Several Weavers were already gathered, their robes marked with insignias of rank. Most weren¡¯t paying attention to him.
But one was.
A young man stood in the center of the dueling ring, arms crossed. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp green eyes that carried the kind of confidence only earned through relentless training. His dark tunic bore an insignia Raine hadn¡¯t seen before¡ªsilver embroidery, marking him as someone of status.
Kael stopped beside him. "Raine, meet Alden."
Alden tilted his head, looking Raine over like a weapon being assessed for flaws.
"So this is the one Ezren has been wasting his time on," he said.
Raine stiffened.
Kael ignored the jab. "Alden is one of the best Weavers here. He¡¯s been training his whole life." He glanced at Raine. "You haven¡¯t."
Raine bristled at the implication.
Kael continued, voice level. "Ezren can tell you what you are. But if you want to survive, you need to see the difference between raw power and trained skill." His gaze flicked toward Alden. "You¡¯ll be sparring with him."
Alden scoffed. "Sparring? You¡¯re putting me against someone who doesn¡¯t even understand his own magic?"
Kael gave him an unreadable look. "You¡¯ll hold back, of course."
Alden smirked. "Naturally."
Raine exhaled sharply. He knew what this was. A test. Not just for him¡ªbut for the others watching. The Weaving Society wasn¡¯t convinced he belonged here.
And Alden? He didn¡¯t just want to win. He wanted to put Raine in his place.
The duel began without ceremony.
Alden didn¡¯t move right away. He studied Raine, eyes sharp, waiting. A hunter watching prey.
Raine forced himself to remain steady. He had trained with Kael, had felt the pull of something beneath magic itself. But this was different. Alden wasn¡¯t an assassin in the dark. He was a warrior trained for battle.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Alden struck first.
His fingers flicked, and the air around Raine shifted. The ground beneath his feet hardened, locking his stance in place. At the same time, a sharp gust of Essence compressed the space around him, trapping him in a tightening grip.
A dual-layered spell. One that locked him down while restricting movement.
Fast. Controlled. A direct counter to someone like Raine.
Raine gritted his teeth. He didn¡¯t hesitate¡ªhe reached for his power. The binding around his feet began to fracture, unraveling at its core. He could feel it now¡ªthe threads that held magic together.
Alden narrowed his eyes. "That won¡¯t work."
The moment Raine broke free, a force slammed into his chest. He barely had time to react before he was knocked backward, skidding across the training ground.
Pain shot through his ribs.
Alden didn¡¯t relent. He closed the gap, weaving another spell mid-step.
Raine could see it this time¡ªnot just the Essence, but the shape of the magic itself. Alden¡¯s movements were precise, his energy flowing in sharp, disciplined threads.
Raine pushed himself up. He couldn¡¯t just react. He had to fight.
Alden struck again¡ªthis time, Raine moved.
Instead of breaking the spell, he shifted just enough to avoid the worst of it, letting the force skim past his shoulder. Alden frowned.
Good. He wasn¡¯t expecting that.
Raine lunged forward, twisting through the last remnants of the compressed Essence. For the first time, he closed the distance.
Alden¡¯s eyes sharpened in mild surprise.
Then, he moved with terrifying speed.
His footwork shifted, and in an instant, the ground beneath Raine collapsed inward. A spell already prepared before Raine had even attacked.
Raine¡¯s stomach lurched as he fell¡ªinto a trap.
Damn it.
Alden wasn¡¯t just powerful¡ªhe was always thinking ahead.
Raine twisted in the air, reaching outward¡ªnot to erase, but to pull.
For the first time, he reached past the surface.
A sharp, unnatural tremor rippled through the air¡ªa moment where the world felt slightly¡ wrong. The spell holding him faltered for half a breath. Not shattered. Not erased.
Bent.
Raine landed hard, rolling to his feet. He hadn¡¯t fully controlled it. But he had interrupted it. That was something.
Alden¡¯s expression changed slightly.
"You¡¯re not just breaking magic," he murmured.
Raine steadied himself. No. He wasn¡¯t.
Alden¡¯s smirk returned. But this time, it was sharper.
"Then let¡¯s see how deep you can reach."
He raised both hands. This time, he wasn¡¯t holding back.
Raine¡¯s lungs burned.
He had lost count of how many times he had been knocked down. Alden was relentless. His magic didn¡¯t just hit harder¡ªit was layered, woven into patterns that left no room for mistakes.
And yet¡ Raine was adapting.
At first, he had only reacted¡ªbreaking what was thrown at him. But that wasn¡¯t enough. Breaking was predictable. Breaking was expected.
Instead, he had started adjusting.
Instead of undoing a binding spell, he weakened its hold just enough to slip free.Instead of blocking a force attack, he redirected it, bending its trajectory.
Alden noticed.
"You¡¯re learning," he admitted. "Good." His smirk sharpened. "But not fast enough."
A surge of Essence rippled around him, stronger than before. Raine barely had time to react as Alden wove a complex pattern into existence¡ªfour layers of binding magic converging at once.
No gaps. No weak points.
Raine had seconds.
And so, he did something new.
Instead of reaching outward, instead of disrupting, instead of bending¡ª
He pulled.
A sharp crack echoed through the air¡ªnot just from the spell, but from something deeper.
For a fraction of a second, everything felt too still.
The binding magic didn¡¯t just break¡ªit collapsed in on itself.
Alden¡¯s spell unraveled, its own weight pulling it apart. A backfire.
The Weavers watching stepped back instinctively.
Alden¡¯s smirk faltered.
And then, he laughed.
"That¡¯s more like it," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Looks like you¡¯re not just a blunt weapon after all."
Raine exhaled heavily, his body still shaking from the exertion.
Ezren stepped forward, arms crossed. His expression was unreadable.
"That¡¯s enough," he said.
Alden turned to him. "Already? He was just starting to be interesting."
Ezren¡¯s gaze flicked to Raine. "Interesting isn¡¯t the same as controlled."
Raine barely registered the words. His hands were still trembling.
Not from exhaustion.
From something else.
Because when he had reached deeper¡ªjust for a second¡ªhe had felt something pulling back.
And whatever it was¡ it had felt familiar.
The Abyss Stares Back
The tremors in Raine¡¯s hands hadn¡¯t stopped.
Even as he left the training hall, even as the murmurs of the watching Weavers faded behind him, he could still feel the lingering weight of what had happened.
The Abyss had pulled back.
And worse¡ªit had felt familiar.
A deep, gnawing unease settled in his chest. For weeks, he had feared his power, feared what it was doing to him. But for the first time, something else had acknowledged him. It wasn¡¯t just him pulling at the Abyss.
It was pulling back.
He clenched his fists, forcing his breathing to steady. The more he trained, the more he understood how wrong his power was. Not just to the Arcanum, not just to the Weavers, but to reality itself.
Ezren walked ahead of him, leading him deeper into the underground halls of the Weaving Society. The path twisted, the stone walls lined with worn tapestries and sigils long since abandoned by the outside world.
The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken questions.
Raine finally broke it.
¡°That wasn¡¯t just my power reacting.¡± His voice was quieter than he intended. ¡°Something else was there.¡±
Ezren didn¡¯t answer immediately. He kept walking.
It wasn¡¯t until they reached a dimly lit chamber¡ªone filled with ancient, half-destroyed books, broken statues, and remnants of something long buried¡ªthat Ezren finally turned to face him.
¡°There¡¯s a reason the Arcanum doesn¡¯t just execute people like you.¡±
Raine stiffened.
¡°They erase you,¡± Ezren continued. ¡°Not just from history, not just from records. From existence itself.¡±
Raine¡¯s breath caught.
Ezren walked to a pedestal in the center of the chamber. Atop it sat a charred, half-burned book. The cover was cracked, the pages ruined from fire and time.
¡°This was taken from one of their vaults,¡± Ezren said, running his fingers along its surface. ¡°One of the only surviving records of your kind.¡±
Raine swallowed. The air felt heavier.
Ezren pushed the book toward him. ¡°Read.¡±
Raine hesitated before carefully prying the brittle cover open. Most of the text was unreadable, lost to the flames that had tried to destroy it. But there were fragments.
Scattered pieces of knowledge that had survived the purge.
He scanned the page, eyes narrowing at the faint words etched into the parchment.
"To step into the Abyss is to risk oneself. To survive, one must not fall, but stand where none have stood before."
The same words from before. The ones inscribed on the ruined pedestal.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Ezren watched him. ¡°Keep going.¡±
Raine turned the page.
More of the text had been burned away, but he could make out the faintest hints of what had once been written.
"¡the anchor of the self must be forged¡ what is unmade must be reclaimed¡ the path is not absence, but the shaping of what remains."
A slow chill crawled up his spine.
Something clicked in his mind.
His power didn¡¯t just break.
It unraveled.
And what was unraveling wasn¡¯t just magic¡ªit was the structure that held things together.
Ezren nodded as he watched the realization dawn on Raine¡¯s face. ¡°The Abyss isn¡¯t just destruction. It¡¯s the foundation beneath existence.¡±
Raine looked up. ¡°Then why do I feel like I¡¯m losing myself every time I use it?¡±
Ezren¡¯s gaze darkened. ¡°Because you are.¡±
Silence stretched between them.
Ezren leaned against the pedestal. ¡°That¡¯s what this book was meant to teach¡ªthe way your kind once controlled it. But the Arcanum erased those teachings. All that remains are fragments. Incomplete, dangerous pieces of something greater.¡±
Raine exhaled slowly. ¡°So what do I do?¡±
Ezren smirked. ¡°You learn to stand.¡±
The next hours blurred into exhaustion.
Ezren¡¯s training wasn¡¯t physical¡ªnot like Kael¡¯s.
It was mental.
He made Raine feel the Abyss without using it. To touch it without unraveling.
It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into a storm that wanted to pull him in.
At first, Raine struggled. Every instinct told him to reach, to grab hold of the power that had become second nature. But Ezren forced him to resist.
"The moment you give in, you¡¯re lost," Ezren said. "You need to exist within the Abyss, not be swallowed by it."
Raine gritted his teeth, pushing through the pressure pressing in on his mind.
And then¡ª
For a moment, everything was still.
The Abyss wasn¡¯t consuming him.
It was holding him.
The dark void that had always felt endless, devouring, chaotic¡ªit had structure.
Not the structured flow of magic, not the channels of Essence that mages wove into spells¡ªsomething older.
A framework that let existence take form.
A tether that kept him whole.
Ezren¡¯s expression shifted.
¡°There,¡± he murmured. ¡°Now, hold.¡±
Raine¡¯s body trembled, every muscle in his body wanting to flinch away.
But he held.
Ezren nodded slowly. ¡°That¡¯s the first step.¡±
Later that night, Raine sat alone in his chamber.
The book lay open beside him, its burned pages whispering secrets that had long been buried.
He ran his fingers over the words, letting them settle in his mind.
A single, nearly unreadable line at the bottom of a ruined page caught his eye.
"Beware the ones who walk unmade. They are not bound, and so they do not break. But in their wake, only nothing remains."
Raine exhaled.
The words felt too much like a warning.
And for the first time, he wondered¡ª
If I don¡¯t break¡ what will I become?
Two days passed.
The training continued.
Ezren¡¯s methods were relentless. He forced Raine to hold his power back, to reach for it only in precise increments. To use it without losing himself.
And slowly, Raine started to change.
Where before he had only shattered things, now he could bend them.
Where before he had only consumed, now he could suspend.
Instead of destroying a stone outright, he froze its unraveling¡ªheld it between existing and unmaking, lingering on the edge before deciding which way it would fall.
Ezren¡¯s expression had grown increasingly unreadable.
Not fear. Not approval.
Something else.
Ezren studied him carefully before reaching into his coat and pulling out a small, jagged stone. It was dark¡ªdarker than anything Raine had ever seen. It almost seemed to drink the light around it.
He placed it on the table. "This was taken from an Arcanum vault. A fragment of something much older than their Order. A relic tied to the Abyss."
Raine stared at it. He could feel it¡ªlike a pressure at the back of his mind, a whisper just beyond his understanding.
Ezren leaned back. "If you want answers, this is where you start."
Raine reached out, his fingers hovering just above the surface.
The moment he touched it, the chamber darkened.
Not like a loss of light.
Like something deeper.
For a brief second, Raine wasn¡¯t in the chamber anymore. He stood somewhere else. Somewhere wrong.
A vast nothingness stretched before him, endless and cold, filled with the faintest echoes of something long forgotten.
And then¡ª
It was gone.
He gasped, yanking his hand back. The chamber snapped into focus, the light returning.
Ezren was watching him closely.
Raine exhaled sharply, his heart pounding. He had felt something. Not a presence. Not a force.
A memory.
Ezren nodded, as if he had expected this. "Looks like we have our starting point."
Raine swallowed hard. He wasn¡¯t sure what he had just glimpsed.
But one thing was certain.
This was only the beginning.
The Abyss Remembers
The weight of it hadn¡¯t faded.
Hours had passed since Raine had touched the abyssal stone, but the sensation still lingered¡ªlike a whisper at the edge of his mind, a presence just beyond his reach. It wasn¡¯t like a dream, something half-remembered. No, this had been real.
He had stood somewhere else.
Not in a vision. Not in a memory.
But in a place that should not be.
He could still feel the emptiness stretching before him, the way the air had tasted thin and hollow, the city of shadows looming in his mind. The outlines of buildings, not ruined but unmade. The streets that weren¡¯t carved from stone, but left behind as impressions, echoes of something that had once existed but no longer did.
It had recognized him.
And worse¡ªhe had recognized it.
Raine clenched his fists as he followed Ezren back into the chamber, the older man silent for a long while. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was because Ezren was thinking or if he was watching¡ªstudying him, waiting to see if the Abyss had left something behind.
Finally, Ezren stopped near the desk, fingers tracing the burned cover of the half-destroyed book he had given Raine before.
"Your power is growing," he said. "Faster than expected."
Raine exhaled through his nose. "That¡¯s not what I¡¯m worried about."
Ezren nodded slightly. "The vision."
Raine¡¯s jaw tightened. "It wasn¡¯t just a vision. It felt real. The air. The weight of the world. It was like I was there¡ªlike if I had stayed too long, I would have¡"
He stopped.
Because the truth was, he wasn¡¯t sure what would have happened.
Would he have been able to leave? Would he have been able to pull back at all? Or would he have simply faded, become another impression on those empty streets, another shadow of something long since forgotten?
Ezren studied him, unreadable as always. "No," he said simply. "You wouldn¡¯t have faded. Not yet."
Raine frowned. "Yet?"
Ezren tapped the desk absently, his gaze flickering with thought. "The Abyss doesn¡¯t just erase. It doesn¡¯t just destroy. It holds. And when something is taken by it, that thing still has weight¡ªeven in absence. You saw that weight. The shadow of what was lost."
Raine¡¯s fingers twitched. "Then why did it feel like it saw me back?"If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Ezren¡¯s gaze sharpened. "Because the Abyss remembers you, too."
The silence stretched thick between them.
Raine forced himself to breathe through the unease twisting in his gut. He needed to focus. To push past this. If he let himself get lost in what-ifs, in questions he couldn¡¯t answer, he¡¯d never get anywhere.
Ezren must have sensed his thoughts because he straightened, his tone shifting. "You¡¯ve gained something from this."
Raine blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
Ezren gestured to the center of the chamber, where the floating sigils from his last lesson still hovered¡ªsome whole, some broken from his past attempts at control. "We¡¯re testing something new. Your instincts have evolved. Now we see how much."
Raine hesitated before stepping forward. The sigils pulsed with faint energy, delicate lines of Essence woven into precise patterns. The last time, Ezren had forced him to unmake them carefully¡ªto choose what unraveled rather than simply erasing it all at once.
But now, something was different.
Raine could see the structure more clearly. Not just the patterns of the sigils, but the way they existed within space. The way the Abyss touched them, like unseen threads woven through reality itself.
The sigils weren¡¯t just floating shapes.
They were anchored¡ªtied to something deeper.
And for the first time, Raine didn¡¯t just feel like he could break them.
He felt like he could hold them.
Ezren must have noticed his hesitation. "Do you feel it?"
Raine swallowed. "Yes."
Ezren¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but there was something in his posture¡ªa sharpness, an intensity. "Then act on it."
Raine exhaled slowly and reached out, fingers just barely brushing the edge of one of the sigils.
And then¡ª
Instead of unraveling, instead of erasing¡ª
He stopped it.
The glow of the sigil flickered, caught between existence and nothingness. Raine could feel the pressure of the Abyss, the way it wanted to pull, to consume¡ªbut he held it back. The unraveling paused, like the moment before a thread snapped, suspended in time.
For the first time, Raine didn¡¯t just break something.
He commanded it to wait.
Ezren inhaled sharply.
Raine didn¡¯t dare move, his focus locked onto the sigil still hanging in the air. It was fragile, trembling under his grip, but it didn¡¯t collapse. It lingered.
He clenched his jaw, steadying himself, and with a slow breath, he released it.
The sigil flickered back into stability, whole once more.
Silence filled the chamber.
Ezren let out a quiet breath. His gaze was unreadable, but his voice was softer. "That¡¯s it," he murmured.
Raine let his hands fall to his sides, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. He hadn¡¯t just prevented the sigil from unraveling¡ªhe had suspended it.
He had chosen when it would fall and when it wouldn¡¯t.
Ezren took a step forward, his usual sharp gaze clouded with thought. "You¡¯re not just unraveling anymore."
Raine swallowed. "Then what am I doing?"
Ezren¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. "You¡¯re touching something deeper. Not just erasure, but control."
He fell silent for a moment, then exhaled. "In terms of magic ranking¡ you¡¯re still at the level of an advanced Gatherer in terms of structured control. But your ability to remove magic?" He met Raine¡¯s gaze. "That¡¯s something no Weaver or Anchor could stop."
Raine wasn¡¯t sure whether that was a compliment or a warning.
Ezren took another long breath. "This changes things."
Raine frowned. "How?"
Ezren hesitated. "Because if you can suspend unraveling¡" His voice dropped slightly. "Then you might be able to reverse it."
A chill ran down Raine¡¯s spine.
Ezren nodded toward the sigils again. "Rest for now. We continue tomorrow. You need control before you go further."
Raine didn¡¯t argue. He turned away, trying to steady his breath.
But the thought refused to leave him.
He wasn¡¯t just breaking things anymore.
He was commanding them to exist or not exist.
And the Abyss was watching.
The Duel Reignited
The training hall was thick with anticipation.
Raine stood in the center, sweat dampening his grip around his sword. The blade was a standard Weaving Society training weapon, but in his hands, it felt different. He wasn''t just wielding steel. He was wielding something more.
Across from him, Alden was no longer smiling.
This wasn¡¯t like their last match.
No playful banter. No restraint.
Ezren¡¯s voice cut through the tension. "No killing blows. Anything else is allowed." His gaze flickered between them. "Begin."
Alden moved first.
The stone beneath Raine¡¯s feet shuddered.
Cracks split outward, and a jagged wall of earth shot from the ground, aiming to throw him off balance.
Raine felt it this time¡ªnot just the attack, but the structure of it. The way Alden had shaped the Essence, the way the stone obeyed his will.
He twisted, vaulting backward before the rock could pin him in.
Alden was already there.
His blade cut through the air¡ªwreathed in fire.
Too fast.
Raine barely managed to raise his own sword in time. Steel met steel, but heat surged along Alden¡¯s blade, scorching the air between them.
He pivoted away, rolling with the impact, but Alden didn¡¯t stop moving.
The next strike was lower. A sweeping kick. Raine barely dodged before the ground beneath him collapsed.
Alden was controlling the battlefield.
Raine clenched his jaw. He had gotten stronger. He had learned how to unravel, how to suspend.Stolen story; please report.
But Alden was still better.
The difference between them wasn¡¯t power. It was refinement.
Raine lashed out with his sword, forcing Alden to parry. Sparks flew as their blades clashed, but Alden barely reacted, his movements precise, measured.
Then¡ªa feint.
Alden twisted suddenly, shifting his grip¡ªand the air ignited.
Flames surged from his free hand, twisting into a controlled arc.
Raine reached out.
He didn¡¯t erase it. He held it.
The fire flickered midair, trembling in his grip.
For a moment, he thought he had it.
Then Alden¡¯s second spell hit.
A shockwave of compressed stone slammed into Raine¡¯s ribs, throwing him backward. He barely absorbed the impact, rolling across the ground. His grip on the fire wavered.
The flames broke free, exploding outward¡ªharmless, but uncontrolled.
Alden was already moving.
He hadn¡¯t stopped attacking for even a second.
Raine barely had time to raise his sword before Alden was on him again, driving him back with a flurry of relentless strikes.
For the first time in the fight, panic crept in.
This wasn¡¯t an enemy he could simply break.
This wasn¡¯t something he could unmake with a thought.
Alden¡¯s footwork was impeccable. His swordsmanship, flawless. His elemental control, unshakable.
Raine could unravel magic¡ªbut against a fighter like Alden, he needed more.
He gritted his teeth.
Then take more.
Raine focused. Instead of trying to destroy Alden¡¯s magic outright¡ªhe reached for its structure.
Not to erase it. To bend it.
Alden¡¯s sword flared with another wave of fire, but this time, Raine didn¡¯t stop it.
He pulled.
The fire twisted, its edges fraying¡ªnot fully unraveling, but splintering just enough to disrupt Alden¡¯s control.
For the first time, Alden hesitated.
Raine took his chance.
He lunged.
Their blades met in a final, crushing impact¡ªbut neither pushed forward.
A stalemate.
Both of them locked in place.
The training hall fell silent.
Raine was breathing heavily. His arms burned from the effort. His body ached.
Alden stared at him for a long moment, his blade still pressed against Raine¡¯s.
Then¡ªhe smirked.
"Not bad," he muttered. "You finally made me stop."
Ezren stepped forward, his tone firm. "Enough."
Alden pulled back immediately, lowering his blade. His smirk hadn¡¯t faded.
Raine exhaled sharply, his heartbeat still pounding in his ears.
Ezren¡¯s gaze flickered between them, unreadable.
"That was better," he said. "But not enough."
Raine wiped the sweat from his brow. He already knew that.
Alden sheathed his weapon, rolling out his shoulders. "He¡¯s getting there."
He turned back to Raine, his smirk fading slightly. "But you¡¯re still holding back."
Raine frowned. "What?"
"You¡¯re learning control," Alden said, tilting his head. "But when are you going to learn to use it?"
The words settled over him like a challenge.
The torches flickered. The air remained thick with tension.
But somewhere, deep in the back of Raine¡¯s mind¡ª
The Abyss stirred.
The Warning Signs
The bruises from the fight with Alden had barely faded, but Raine didn¡¯t have the luxury of rest. Even now, as he stood at the edge of the training hall, he could feel the shift in the air. It wasn¡¯t exhaustion. It wasn¡¯t even the lingering weight of the Abyss pressing at the back of his mind. It was something worse.
Ezren stood in the center of the chamber, arms folded, watching him with a gaze that cut deeper than words. Raine had learned by now that Ezren never wasted time on empty conversation¡ªif he was looking at him like this, it meant something.
Finally, Ezren spoke. ¡°You¡¯re progressing too fast.¡±
Raine frowned. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a good thing?¡±
Ezren exhaled sharply, pacing a few steps before turning back. ¡°No. Growth like this isn¡¯t natural. Even Weavers who refine their magic through years of training don¡¯t adapt as quickly as you have. The way you fought Alden¡ª¡± He shook his head. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have been able to suspend and redirect magic that precisely, not at this stage.¡±
Raine crossed his arms, resisting the urge to shift under the scrutiny. ¡°I thought that was the point. Isn¡¯t that what we¡¯ve been training?¡±
Ezren¡¯s gaze darkened. ¡°I¡¯ve been teaching you control. What you did against Alden wasn¡¯t control.¡±
Raine stiffened. ¡°Then what was it?¡±
Ezren stepped closer, his expression unyielding. ¡°Instinct.¡± His voice lowered. ¡°And that¡¯s not a good thing.¡±
A chill ran down Raine¡¯s spine.
Ezren folded his arms. ¡°The Abyss doesn¡¯t just pull things apart. It remembers. Every time you reach into it without restraint, it isn¡¯t just you shaping your power.¡± His voice sharpened. ¡°It¡¯s the weight of everything that¡¯s ever fallen into it, pressing back.¡±
Raine clenched his jaw. ¡°I wasn¡¯t out of control.¡±
Ezren¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°Not this time. But how long before it isn¡¯t you making the choices?¡±
Silence stretched between them.
Ezren turned toward a far wall where a set of scrolls lay scattered atop an old desk. He ran a hand over one of them, his fingers trailing the delicate, half-faded script. ¡°The last person to wield the Abyss like you¡ burned a kingdom to the ground.¡±
Raine¡¯s breath hitched.
Ezren didn¡¯t look at him as he continued. ¡°Not on purpose. Not because they wanted to.¡± His fingers clenched against the parchment. ¡°They lost control. They thought they were in control¡ªright up until the moment they weren¡¯t.¡±
He turned back to Raine. ¡°They unraveled everything. Themselves included.¡±
Raine swallowed hard. He had always known his power was dangerous, but this was different. This wasn¡¯t just about fighting. It wasn¡¯t about being hunted. It was about the power itself. What it wanted.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Ezren stepped forward again, his expression set in stone. ¡°That¡¯s why you can¡¯t rely on instinct. You don¡¯t get the luxury of losing yourself to it, not even for a second.¡±
Raine inhaled sharply, his fingers twitching at his sides. ¡°Then what am I supposed to do? Hold back forever?¡±
Ezren shook his head. ¡°No.¡± He tapped the scroll. ¡°You refine it. You shape it like a blade, instead of letting it shape you.¡±
Raine exhaled slowly.
Ezren studied him for a long moment, then finally nodded, as if reaching a decision. ¡°Kael will handle the physical training¡ªhe¡¯s the only one who can.¡±
Raine frowned. ¡°Why?¡±
Ezren smirked. ¡°Because I need you alive.¡±
The door to the chamber burst open before Raine could ask anything else. One of the Weaving Society¡¯s scouts stumbled inside, his breath ragged, his clothes torn and soaked in blood. He wasn¡¯t just wounded¡ªhe was dying.
Ezren caught him before he collapsed. The scout¡¯s hands trembled, fingers clutching weakly at Ezren¡¯s sleeve. His lips parted, and he forced out two hoarse words.
¡°They know.¡±
The air in the room froze.
Ezren stiffened. Raine felt his stomach twist into knots.
The scout¡¯s body shuddered once, then went still. Dead.
A heavy silence filled the room. No one moved. Then Ezren exhaled sharply, laying the man down with careful hands before standing. His face was unreadable, but Raine could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curled into a fist at his side.
He turned to Raine. ¡°You don¡¯t get to ease into this anymore.¡±
Kael arrived that evening. Raine hadn¡¯t seen him in weeks¡ªhad started to wonder if he had abandoned the Weaving Society altogether. But when the doors opened and Kael strode inside, his expression grim, Raine knew immediately that wasn¡¯t the case.
Ezren gestured toward Raine without preamble. ¡°He¡¯s still raw. His magic is evolving faster than we expected, but his control is nowhere near where it needs to be.¡±
Kael glanced at Raine, studying him like a puzzle he was still trying to solve. ¡°Not surprising.¡±
Raine frowned. ¡°I¡¯ve been training.¡±
Kael snorted. ¡°You¡¯ve been learning to use a tool. That¡¯s not the same as knowing how to wield it under pressure.¡±
Raine bristled, but Ezren cut in before he could snap back. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re here.¡±
Kael gave him a sharp look. ¡°You want me to be the one to train him?¡±
¡°You trained him before,¡± Ezren said simply. ¡°And when the Arcanum comes, it won¡¯t just be mages he¡¯s facing.¡±
Kael sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. ¡°You always pull me into the worst jobs.¡±
Ezren smirked. ¡°That¡¯s why I trust you with them.¡±
Kael shook his head before turning back to Raine. ¡°Fine. We start now.¡±
The shift was immediate. Kael wasn¡¯t Ezren. He didn¡¯t lecture. He didn¡¯t give Raine time to think about mistakes. The first moment Raine raised his sword, Kael struck with a force that nearly knocked him off his feet.
Raine barely managed to recover in time to block. His stance was sloppy, his reaction too slow. Kael twisted, striking again. This time, Raine ducked. Good. Then Kael¡¯s foot slammed into his ribs, sending him sprawling.
Raine groaned, rolling to his feet. ¡°You¡¯re enjoying this.¡±
Kael shrugged. ¡°I won¡¯t always be around to save you, kid.¡±
Raine gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. He had to move faster. React quicker. Kael wasn¡¯t just trying to beat him¡ªhe was forcing him to adapt. He lunged forward, swinging his blade in a feint. Kael sidestepped¡ªjust as Raine had expected.
For the first time, Raine was the one controlling the pace.
Kael¡¯s eyes flickered with something like approval.
But Raine wasn¡¯t just focused on the fight anymore. He could feel it again. The Abyss. Not as a force trying to consume him, but as something waiting at the edges, watching.
The same sensation he had felt when he had fought Alden. The same pull. Not destruction. Control.
And then Kael was moving again, pressing forward. Raine blocked, adjusting his stance, reading the rhythm of the fight. Kael was still better. He was faster, more experienced. But for the first time, Raine wasn¡¯t just reacting.
He was choosing.
The fight lasted longer than Raine expected. He lost¡ªbut not as quickly as before. And Kael?
He looked almost impressed.
The Threshold of Unmaking
The candle flickered violently, casting jagged shadows across the rough stone walls.
Raine sat on the edge of his cot, his breath steady, but his pulse wasn¡¯t.
The pressure hadn¡¯t faded.
Even after the fight with Alden, after Kael¡¯s training, after forcing the Abyss to bend, it still pressed at the edges of his mind. A constant, silent pull. Not an attack, not a demand.
A presence.
Ezren had told him that progress meant understanding, that he needed to refine what he wielded. But for every step forward, something watched.
Something waited.
A slow breath left his lips, barely audible over the shifting air in the chamber. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake the unease coiling in his gut.
He wasn¡¯t afraid of his power.
He was afraid of how natural it was starting to feel.
Then¡ª
A knock at the door.
Raine turned sharply as Ezren stepped inside. The older man¡¯s expression was unreadable, but his presence carried weight. There was no small talk. No preamble.
Something was about to change.
Ezren held something wrapped in dark cloth. The shape was unmistakable¡ªthe Abyssal relic. Even concealed, Raine could feel it. Like a hollow space in the room, an absence that twisted reality around it.
Ezren spoke quietly.
¡°We¡¯re running out of time.¡±
Raine stood without question.
The walk through the underground halls felt longer this time.
The torches burned low, their flames guttering in an unseen wind. The stones beneath his boots felt colder. Even the air had changed¡ªdenser, heavier, carrying whispers that didn¡¯t exist.
They moved past ancient, dust-laden tapestries, past narrow corridors that hadn¡¯t seen footsteps in years. Raine knew where they were going before they arrived.
The chamber.
The place where Ezren had first shown him the relic. Where he had seen the lost city.
And where, for the first time, the Abyss had acknowledged him.
Ezren didn¡¯t hesitate. He unwrapped the relic.
Dark, gleaming glass reflected the dim torchlight, its surface rippling like a black sea. The depth of it was unnatural¡ªnot just a lack of light, but a void of something greater.
The same twisted thing that had shown him visions of a vanished world.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Ezren met his gaze. ¡°This will be your last chance.¡±
Raine exhaled. ¡°What do you mean?¡±
Ezren¡¯s fingers tightened around the edges of the cloth. ¡°If you use it again, the connection will deepen.¡± His voice was level, but something in it wasn''t steady. ¡°And the Abyss¡ does not release things easily.¡±
Raine swallowed.
A test.
Or a threshold.
Step forward, or step back.
The choice had already been made.
He reached out.
The moment his fingers touched the relic¡ª
The world collapsed.
Not into darkness.
Into silence.
A silence so perfect, so absolute, it rang in his ears like a deafening roar.
Then¡ª
A city.
Not ruins.
Not a shattered, broken memory like before.
It was whole.
The towers stretched impossibly high, piercing through a sky that churned with an eerie, shifting glow. The streets were lined with symbols¡ªintricate markings that pulsed with faint light. People moved, their figures blurred and indistinct, like echoes half-formed.
Raine took a step forward.
His foot met solid ground.
This isn¡¯t just a memory.
The realization struck deep.
He wasn¡¯t just seeing the past.
He was standing in it.
Something shifted at the edges of his vision.
A sound¡ªwrong.
A whisper, curling through the air like a breath against his ear.
Low. Crawling.
Like something pressing into his thoughts, curling beneath his skin.
He turned.
At the highest tower, at the heart of the city¡ª
Something pulsed.
A presence both familiar and foreign.
The Abyss.
Then¡ª
The city began to unravel.
Not destroyed.
Not consumed.
Unmade.
The structures folded inward, flickering between existence and nothing. The streets began to vanish beneath him, erased thread by thread. People flickered out of being mid-step.
Their shapes weren¡¯t torn apart.
They were simply forgotten.
Raine tried to move, tried to breathe, but the weight of it pressed against him¡ª
And then, something pulled him back.
A presence.
Watching. Waiting.
And then¡ª
A voice.
Low. Ancient.
A whisper that slid through his mind like ink dissolving into water.
"Not all are lost."
Raine¡¯s breath hitched.
It wasn¡¯t human.
It wasn¡¯t bound by time or space.
"You walk where none should walk."
The voice curled around him, pulling at the edges of his mind, wrapping around his thoughts like a noose.
"The path remains."
And suddenly¡ª
The unraveling stopped.
The city flickered, hovering on the edge of vanishing¡ª
But it wasn¡¯t gone.
Not yet.
And in that single, suspended moment, something burned itself into Raine¡¯s mind.
A place.
Carved into the Abyss itself.
The Threshold of Unmaking.
The knowledge settled deep.
Not learned.
Remembered.
And then¡ª
The vision shattered.
Raine stumbled backward, gasping.
His chest heaved, his hands trembled, his breath rasped against the cold air.
The chamber around him swam back into focus.
Ezren was watching him closely.
"What did you see?"
Raine swallowed hard. "It wasn¡¯t just a vision," he whispered.
Ezren¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Explain.¡±
Raine exhaled, steadying himself. "The city. It wasn¡¯t destroyed. It wasn¡¯t broken." His fingers curled into fists. ¡°It was erased.¡±
Ezren¡¯s face darkened.
"And you were there."
Raine met his gaze. "Yes."
Ezren studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Then we know where you have to go next."
Raine¡¯s pulse quickened.
The vanished city wasn¡¯t just a remnant of the past.
It was waiting for him.
And whatever had erased it¡
Was still there.
Ezren¡¯s expression remained unreadable. ¡°Did anything else happen?¡±
Raine hesitated.
The words still echoed in his mind.
Not all are lost.
He nodded slowly. ¡°I heard something.¡±
Ezren¡¯s eyes sharpened. ¡°A voice?¡±
¡°Not just a voice.¡±** Raine clenched his jaw.** ¡°Something aware.¡±
Ezren exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. ¡°That¡¯s¡ concerning.¡±
Raine frowned. ¡°Why?¡±
Ezren¡¯s gaze hardened. ¡°Because if something within the Abyss spoke to you, it means something within the Abyss knows you exist.¡±
Raine¡¯s breath hitched.
Ezren shook his head. ¡°And that means you don¡¯t have much time.¡±
Raine exhaled.
He had gained something from this.
The Threshold of Unmaking.
A path forward. A place tied to the vanished city.
But he had also gained something else.
He had stopped the unraveling.
Not through force. Not through instinct.
Through will.
For the first time, he hadn¡¯t just fought against the Abyss.
He had commanded it.
Erasure
The first sign of the attack was silence.
Raine had been pacing his quarters, mind still reeling from the vision, when the distant hum of the Weaving Society¡¯s underground halls simply¡ vanished. No murmur of voices. No footfalls echoing against stone. Just an unnatural, suffocating stillness.
Then the walls shuddered.
An impact¡ªdeep, resonant¡ªsent dust spiraling from the ceiling. Raine¡¯s instincts kicked in before his mind caught up. He grabbed his sword and threw open the door.
A figure sprinted past, robes tattered, a Weaving Society mage clutching their side. Blood slicked their fingers. Their mouth opened as if
they were about to speak¡ªthen they collapsed, their body hitting the ground with a sickening finality.
Raine barely had time to react before the air cracked with the force of a spell slamming into the far wall. A surge of Essence¡ªcontrolled, sharp¡ªexploded through the corridor, sending debris and stone raining down.
Then came the voices.
"Seal the lower chambers.""Cut off any exits.""The Abyss-touched is here¡ªfind him!"
Raine¡¯s breath turned shallow. The Arcanum had arrived.
He forced himself forward, stepping over the fallen mage, boots crunching against the dust of collapsing stone. His fingers tightened around his sword. The weight of the Abyss pulsed at the back of his mind, responding to the growing chaos like a predator stirring to hunger.
No. Not yet.
A figure burst through the dust ahead¡ªKael.
"Move!" Kael barked, barely slowing as he grabbed Raine¡¯s cloak and yanked him down another hallway.
"What happened¡ª?"
"Ezren''s holding them back, but it won¡¯t last. They sent an Anchor."
The words hit like ice.
An Anchor. One of the Arcanum¡¯s elite enforcers, trained to sever magic at its root, to pin reality in place where it threatened to come undone. If an Anchor had been deployed, it meant the Arcanum wasn¡¯t just trying to capture him anymore.
They were trying to erase him.
A deep boom shook the underground chambers again, followed by the unmistakable hum of a powerful ward snapping into place.
Kael swore. "They¡¯re locking down the tunnels¡ªEzren told me to get you out."
Raine ground his teeth. "And what about him?"
Kael¡¯s jaw tightened, but he didn¡¯t answer.
That was enough of an answer.
They turned a sharp corner¡ªand suddenly stopped.
Figures in dark robes, their faces obscured by enchanted masks, stood at the corridor¡¯s end. Weavers loyal to the Arcanum.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
No chance to flee. No time to think.
The air crackled¡ªand then the Weavers attacked.
Raine barely managed to raise his sword in time to deflect a strike¡ªa sharpened arc of Essence slicing toward his throat. The moment his blade met it, the spell shattered, breaking apart like fragile glass.
The Weavers hesitated.
He felt it then¡ªthe Abyss curling at the edges of his mind, waiting.
Kael didn¡¯t hesitate. He surged forward, steel flashing, cutting through the confusion with brutal efficiency. Raine followed, his instincts taking over, his blade dancing between flickers of Essence as he weaved past their strikes.
But there were too many. And worse¡ªthey were prepared.
Another wave of magic crashed forward. Raine twisted to dodge, but his footwork faltered¡ªone of the Weavers slammed a pulse of force into his ribs, sending him stumbling back.
And then¡ª
The Abyss reached for him.
It didn¡¯t pull. It didn¡¯t force.
It simply waited.
Raine clenched his teeth. He had fought it back before. He had stopped himself from sinking too deep.
But now¡ª
Now, he didn¡¯t have time for restraint.
The next spell was coming, a barrage of Essence, a wall of raw force meant to crush him where he stood.
Raine exhaled¡ªand let go.
The Abyss responded instantly.
The world lurched. The spell meant to strike him bent, twisted, then collapsed inward. A ripple of unmaking spread through the corridor, consuming the Weavers¡¯ magic before it could reach him.
The Weavers froze.
Kael cursed. "Raine¡ª!"
But it was too late.
The Abyss wasn¡¯t just responding to magic now¡ªit was reaching for everything.
The walls of the corridor darkened, the edges of reality fraying like an unraveling thread. The Weavers standing before him shuddered¡ªtheir bodies flickering, as if something had begun pulling them apart from the inside out.
Raine gasped, trying to stop it¡ª
But he couldn¡¯t.
He could feel himself slipping. The Abyss wasn¡¯t just answering him¡ªit was claiming him.
His vision blurred. The Weavers were already gone. Unmade. The corridor felt stretched, the air bending, the world itself becoming something thin.
"No."
He tried to pull back.
"Not like this."
But the Abyss wasn¡¯t letting go.
Not this time.
The weight of it crashed into him, a cold, endless hunger pressing down, swallowing his thoughts, his sense of self. His body felt distant. A whisper, low and ancient, slithered through his mind.
"You walk where none should walk."
His breath hitched.
"This time, you will fall."
No.
No.
A hand grabbed his arm.
Reality slammed back into place.
Kael was hauling him back, his grip viselike, his voice a sharp anchor.
"Raine¡ªstay with me!"
The world snapped.
The Abyss recoiled.
Raine staggered, his body his own again, his breath ragged, his vision blurred¡ªbut he was here. He was still here.
Kael didn¡¯t let go.
For the first time since they met, Kael¡¯s expression wasn¡¯t cocky. It wasn¡¯t amused.
It was grim.
"You almost didn¡¯t come back," he muttered.
Raine swallowed, still shaking.
Before he could answer¡ª
A presence filled the corridor.
The air hardened, Essence shifting. The very fabric of reality locked into place, denying the Abyss outright.
A figure stepped forward.
Robes of black and gold. A mask covering their features. A presence so absolute, so unyielding, that Raine knew, instinctively, what this was.
An Anchor.
They had felt his presence.
They had found him.
The Anchor raised a hand. No words. No commands. Just judgment.
Raine tried to move¡ªbut his body felt wrong. The backlash of the Abyss still clung to his mind, his limbs heavy, unresponsive.
Kael didn¡¯t hesitate.
He shoved Raine behind him, his sword flashing up into a ready stance.
"Run," he said.
Raine barely had time to breathe before the fight began.
Between Abyss and Ash
The first clash of steel against force ripped through the air like a thunderclap.
Kael met the Anchor¡¯s silent advance with everything he had, his blade a blur, his movements sharp, precise¡ªbut utterly ineffective.
The Anchor didn¡¯t parry.
It didn¡¯t dodge.
It simply moved forward.
Kael¡¯s sword bit into the empty air where the Anchor had just been, the motion too slow, too human¡ª
Then the Anchor struck.
No wasted motion. No flourish.
A single palm to Kael¡¯s chest.
The impact was soundless.
Kael was launched backward, his body smashing through a stone pillar, debris collapsing in a cloud of dust.
Raine barely had time to react before the Anchor¡¯s gaze snapped back to him.
It had never lost sight of him.
Not even for a moment.
Raine staggered, his breath uneven, his body still sluggish. The backlash from the Abyss clung to him like wet ash, his veins aching from the way he had pulled too deep.
But the Anchor wasn¡¯t waiting.
It lifted a hand¡ªnot to strike, but to end.
The space around Raine twisted, his breath ripped away as his vision blurred at the edges.
He was unraveling.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Not because of the Abyss¡ªbut because the Anchor willed it.
Raine clenched his jaw.
No.
Not like this.
Not again.
He reached¡ªbut not for Essence.
Not for magic.
For the thing that had answered him in the vision.
The voice that had whispered.
The presence that had acknowledged him.
For the Abyss itself.
Something shifted.
The space around him shattered like glass, the Anchor¡¯s control snapped apart as a wave of void-born force rippled outward.
The weight pressing on Raine vanished.
But something else took its place.
Something deeper.
Something watching.
The Anchor¡¯s head tilted slightly, and for the first time, its motion was not indifferent.
It was curious.
Like it was seeing something new.
Kael didn¡¯t waste the moment.
He moved with the precision of a killer, his blade aimed straight for the Anchor¡¯s throat.
It should have been a clean hit.
But the Anchor was faster.
Too fast.
Kael¡¯s strike missed, his balance shifting just slightly¡ª
And that was all it took.
The Anchor countered with a single movement.
Kael¡¯s sword was ripped from his grasp, the force sending him sprawling across the stone floor.
His breath hitched.
He had never been outmatched like this.
Not this utterly.
Not this helplessly.
Raine gritted his teeth, still fighting the pull of the Abyss that threatened to consume him again.
He had to move.
He had to do something.
Then¡ª
Another presence.
Another pulse of raw force.
The temperature dropped.
The air hummed with a different kind of power.
Ezren.
He stepped into the ruined chamber, his expression unreadable, but his eyes sharp.
"That¡¯s enough," he said.
The Anchor turned to him, unhurried. Unbothered.
Ezren raised a hand.
The force that followed was not Abyssal.
It was disruption, the kind of magic that tore through even the most unshakable foundations¡ªand the Anchor felt it.
It didn¡¯t recoil.
It didn¡¯t react.
But it paused.
And that was all Ezren needed.
He snapped his fingers.
A spell detonated at the Anchor¡¯s feet¡ªnot to harm, but to blind.
A fracture in the air, a pulse of force, a moment¡¯s cover.
"Kael, take him and run," Ezren ordered, already moving forward, his focus entirely on the Anchor.
Kael hesitated for only a second¡ªthen grabbed Raine¡¯s wrist and hauled him toward the exit.
Raine struggled against his grip, his mind still half-tangled in the Abyss, still feeling the pull that hadn¡¯t faded.
He wasn¡¯t sure who he had reached for.
Or what had reached back.
But the Anchor knew.
Even as the battle turned behind them¡ªit watched him go.
It wasn¡¯t finished.
Not by a long shot.
And Raine could feel it in his bones.
This wasn¡¯t the end.
It was only the beginning.
What Remains
The night burned behind them.
Smoke and fire swallowed the remnants of the Weaving Society, the once-hidden stronghold now nothing but ruins. Shadows danced in the distant inferno, figures still locked in battle, but Raine didn¡¯t look back.
He couldn¡¯t.
Ezren was gone.
Kael¡¯s grip on his wrist was iron-tight, dragging him through the broken outskirts of the city. His breath was ragged, his legs unsteady, but Kael never slowed.
They had to move.
Not because they were being chased.
But because the Anchor had let them go.
The thought twisted in Raine¡¯s mind like a blade. The Arcanum never spared Abyss-touched. He had seen their work before¡ªentire bloodlines erased, history rewritten to pretend they had never existed. The Weaving Society had hidden him, had trained him, and for that, they had been destroyed.
And yet.
The Anchor had hesitated.
It had turned toward him, its unshakable presence pressing against reality, and watched. Like it had been waiting for something.
Then it had let them leave.
Not because they had won.
Because it had chosen to.
The thought made Raine¡¯s skin crawl.
Kael didn¡¯t stop running until they reached the outskirts of the lower ruins, where the last remnants of civilization bled into wilderness. Here, the air was still thick with the weight of the Arcanum¡¯s magic, but the city¡¯s firelight had begun to fade into the distance.
Finally, Kael pulled him to a stop beneath the crumbling remains of an old aqueduct. The silence that followed was suffocating.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment.
Then Kael let go of his wrist and turned to face him, his expression unreadable.
¡°You good?¡± he asked.
Raine exhaled sharply. His hands were still shaking. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±
Kael gave him a once-over, then nodded to himself, like that was all the confirmation he needed. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for you to not know. Keep moving.¡±
Raine gritted his teeth but didn¡¯t argue.
They slipped into the underbrush beyond the ruins, where the dirt roads leading out of the city had become overgrown with time. Kael moved first, checking their path, his stance still coiled and ready to fight. Raine followed, but his mind was still tangled in the battle they had left behind.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Not just Ezren¡¯s sacrifice. Not just the Anchor¡¯s unshakable presence.
The Abyss.
He had reached for something.
And something had reached back.
It had been waiting for him.
And the Anchor had seen it.
A shiver crawled down his spine.
Kael must have noticed his expression because he muttered, ¡°Whatever you¡¯re thinking, stop thinking it.¡±
Raine shot him a look. ¡°Not really how that works.¡±
Kael huffed, but there was no humor in it. ¡°Fine. Then say it out loud.¡±
Raine hesitated. But the words were already at the edge of his tongue.
¡°The Anchor should have killed me.¡±
Kael didn¡¯t deny it.
Raine continued, his voice quieter now. ¡°It let us go. That doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±
Kael adjusted his grip on his sword. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter why. We take the gift and run.¡±
Raine shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s not an answer.¡±
Kael stopped walking and turned, his eyes dark. ¡°No. But it¡¯s the answer you get.¡±
Raine clenched his jaw. ¡°You saw it too.¡±
Kael¡¯s expression flickered¡ªjust for a second. A crack in the unshakable confidence he always carried. He exhaled sharply.
¡°Yeah,¡± he admitted. ¡°I saw it.¡±
He ran a hand through his hair, his stance shifting. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the hell you did back there, but that thing wasn¡¯t just hunting you. It was¡ª¡± He hesitated, searching for the right word.
¡°Studying.¡±
Raine felt something cold settle in his stomach.
Kael shook his head. ¡°And whatever it saw, it liked it enough to let you walk out of there alive.¡±
The words left a hollow feeling in Raine¡¯s chest.
The Arcanum erased Abyss-touched.
So why hadn¡¯t the Anchor?
The air between them stretched. Kael¡¯s shoulders dropped slightly, but his tone remained sharp. ¡°Dwelling on it won¡¯t change anything. We need to put distance between us and that thing before it changes its mind.¡±
Raine nodded, forcing the thoughts to the back of his mind. Later. He could pick apart the reasons later. Right now, they had to move.
They continued down the overgrown path, their pace steady. The city¡¯s glow had vanished beyond the hills, and the night stretched open before them¡ªan empty road, a wilderness ahead.
Then they saw the figure standing in their path.
Kael¡¯s blade was drawn before Raine could register what was happening.
Raine stiffened.
It wasn¡¯t another enforcer.
It wasn¡¯t an Arcanum soldier.
It was Alden.
His clothes were torn, his hands bloodied, his expression tight with exhaustion. But he was standing. And he was waiting for them.
Kael didn¡¯t lower his weapon.
¡°Really starting to hate this city,¡± Alden muttered.
Raine exhaled sharply. ¡°You¡¯re still alive.¡±
Alden scoffed. ¡°Barely. Thanks to that Anchor.¡±
Kael¡¯s grip on his blade didn¡¯t shift. ¡°You were fighting it?¡±
Alden let out a dry laugh. ¡°No. I was running from it. I was still in the lower halls when everything started falling apart. I barely made it out before the whole damn Society collapsed.¡± His voice darkened. ¡°Ezren didn¡¯t.¡±
Raine¡¯s chest tightened.
Alden looked at him then, eyes sharp. ¡°But you already knew that, didn¡¯t you?¡±
Raine swallowed hard. ¡°Yeah.¡±
Alden didn¡¯t respond. His jaw clenched, but the emotion passed quickly, buried beneath something steadier.
¡°Then I¡¯m coming with you.¡±
Kael actually laughed at that. ¡°The hell you are.¡±
Alden raised a brow. ¡°You got a better idea?¡±
¡°Yeah,¡± Kael said. ¡°You go that way.¡± He pointed toward the opposite direction.
Alden didn¡¯t move. ¡°The Arcanum isn¡¯t just after you anymore. You think they¡¯re gonna let any of us go after tonight? The Weaving Society is gone. Anyone they don¡¯t kill, they¡¯ll track down eventually. You think you¡¯ll be safe on your own?¡±
Kael¡¯s expression flickered, but his grip on his sword didn¡¯t shift.
Alden exhaled. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t like you. And I sure as hell don¡¯t trust you.¡± His gaze flicked to Raine. ¡°But I don¡¯t have a better option right now. And neither do you.¡±
The words hung between them.
Kael scowled. Then, finally, he sheathed his sword.
¡°Fine,¡± he muttered. ¡°But if you slow us down, I¡¯ll kill you myself.¡±
Alden smirked. ¡°Fair.¡±
Raine exhaled slowly.
The three of them turned toward the open road.
Ezren was gone. The Weaving Society was gone.
And the Anchor was still out there.
Watching.
Waiting.
And Raine had no idea why.
Shadows in the Dark
The fire had burned low, throwing weak flickers of light against the ruined walls of the waystation. Raine sat with his back to the cold stone, his knees pulled up, his hands curled into fists. His body begged for rest, but his mind wouldn¡¯t quiet.
Something felt wrong.
The wind whistled softly through the cracks in the collapsed roof, the sound hollow and distant. It was the first time they¡¯d stopped moving since the Weaving Society had burned, the first moment of stillness. But stillness didn¡¯t feel like safety. It felt like waiting.
Kael was seated near the entrance, sword balanced across his knees, his gaze distant. Alden lay further back, sprawled on a bundle of old cloth, arms crossed behind his head. He hadn¡¯t spoken since they stopped, but Raine wasn¡¯t sure he was actually asleep.
They were fugitives. Hunted. A manhunt should have been relentless. So why hadn¡¯t they seen anyone?
Kael hadn¡¯t voiced the question, but Raine knew he was thinking it. The silence between them carried weight, thick with something unspoken.
Kael finally broke it.
"We¡¯re not running." His voice was low, quiet. "We¡¯re being led."
Alden let out a dry scoff, not opening his eyes. ¡°By who?¡±
Kael didn¡¯t answer.
Raine shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to disagree, to say Kael was just being paranoid. But Kael was never just paranoid.
The Arcanum¡¯s forces weren¡¯t just tracking them. They were steering them.
Alden exhaled sharply and sat up. "Then let¡¯s not go where they want us to."
Kael shook his head. "We don¡¯t have a choice."
Raine stiffened. He hated how right that sounded.
Alden sighed. ¡°Well, at least we¡¯re not dead yet.¡±
No one responded to that.
Eventually, the fire faded to embers. Kael didn¡¯t sleep. Alden drifted off after an hour. Raine stayed awake as long as he could¡ª
But exhaustion always won.
And when it did¡ª
The Abyss took him.
Raine dreamed.
It wasn¡¯t like the other times.
This time, it wasn¡¯t pulling him under.
It was showing him something.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
A cold, open space stretched out before him. Not a void¡ªa structure. Something vast, ancient, impossible to understand. The air inside it was still¡ªthe way a mausoleum was still, where no living thing was meant to tread.
And Kael was there.
Raine¡¯s breath caught.
Kael wasn¡¯t bound by chains. There were no visible restraints. But he wasn¡¯t moving.
He was standing in the center of that vast space, his body taut, his eyes unfocused, his breath barely visible.
Not struggling. Not fighting.
Like he had been put there.
Then¡ª
A voice.
Not the Abyss.
Something older. Measured.
"Your path diverges."
Raine tried to step forward¡ªand the world twisted.
The space between him and Kael stretched, pulling impossibly far.
Kael turned. His lips parted, as if he was trying to say something¡ª
And then¡ª
The vision collapsed.
Raine woke with a sharp breath.
His chest heaved, his pulse hammering.
The fire had burned down to the last embers, the ruins quiet around him.
Something was wrong.
He turned his head sharply¡ª
Kael¡¯s seat near the entrance was empty.
No footprints. No tracks leading away.
No sign of a struggle.
Just gone.
Raine¡¯s stomach twisted.
Alden stirred beside him, blinking blearily. ¡°What¡ª?¡± Then he saw the empty space.
His expression darkened instantly.
Raine barely heard him.
His pulse roared in his ears.
He reached for the Abyss, for that lingering whisper of the dream¡ªfor anything.
But there was nothing.
Raine¡¯s pulse hammered against his ribs as he stepped out of the ruined waystation, his breath fogging in the cold night air. The ground felt too still beneath his feet, like the world itself was waiting.
Kael was gone.
Alden moved beside him, his expression unreadable, his hand hovering near the hilt of his blade. ¡°I don¡¯t like this.¡±
Raine barely heard him. His mind was still trapped in the dream, in that endless, still place where Kael had stood, unmoving.
Your path diverges.
The words curled in his mind, foreign and unwanted. He clenched his jaw, pushing them away. He couldn¡¯t afford doubt. He couldn¡¯t afford hesitation.
"We have to move," Raine muttered.
Alden frowned. ¡°Where? We don¡¯t even know what happened.¡±
Raine exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He had no tracks to follow, no signs of struggle¡ªjust absence.
The last time someone had vanished like this was when the Anchor had appeared.
His stomach twisted.
¡°What if he didn¡¯t leave?¡± Raine murmured.
Alden stiffened. ¡°You think they took him?¡±
Raine shook his head. ¡°Not just they.¡±
Alden¡¯s frown deepened. He opened his mouth to argue¡ªthen froze.
The air shifted.
A pressure settled over them, something vast and silent. It wasn¡¯t the oppressive weight of the Arcanum¡¯s magic. It wasn¡¯t the unnatural pull of the Abyss.
It was something watching.
Raine turned sharply¡ª
A shadow stood at the edge of the trees.
Not moving. Not approaching. Just waiting.
The Anchor.
Alden¡¯s sword was half-drawn before Raine grabbed his wrist. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±
Alden shot him a glare, but he didn¡¯t move.
The Anchor tilted its head slightly, the only motion it had made. The space around it felt wrong¡ªnot like it was unraveling, but like reality was being held still.
Raine swallowed. ¡°Where is he?¡±
No answer.
The Anchor simply stood there, the silence stretching, the weight of its presence pressing down like a stone in Raine¡¯s chest.
Raine¡¯s hands curled into fists. ¡°You took him.¡±
The air hummed.
Not a sound. Not a vibration. But something deeper¡ªsomething just beneath perception.
Then, finally¡ª
¡°You are walking the wrong path.¡±
Raine¡¯s breath stalled.
The Anchor hadn¡¯t spoken. Not in words, not in sound. But the message was there, sinking into the marrow of his bones.
Alden stiffened. ¡°What the hell does that mean?¡±
Raine forced himself to step forward, his heart pounding. ¡°Where is he?¡±
The Anchor didn¡¯t answer.
It simply turned¡ªand walked away.
Not attacking. Not pursuing.
Leaving.
Alden let out a sharp breath. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±
Raine stared after the figure, his pulse still racing. ¡°No.¡± His voice was quiet. ¡°That was a warning.¡±
Alden scoffed. ¡°A warning for what?¡±
Raine didn¡¯t answer.
Because he already knew.
This wasn¡¯t over.
It was just starting
The Anchor鈥檚 Truth
The Anchor was gone.
The moment stretched in silence, the night pressing heavy against the ruined waystation. The air still carried the weight of its presence, but now there was nothing. Just the open road, the whisper of wind through the trees, and the unanswered question hanging between them.
Alden shifted beside him, his grip still tight on his blade. "That¡¯s it? No fight, no chase, just cryptic bullshit?" His voice was low, edged with frustration.
Raine barely heard him. His mind was still tangled in the remnants of the dream¡ªthe endless space, the way Kael had stood frozen in it.
Your path diverges.
It wasn¡¯t a threat. It was a choice.
And they had already started walking it.
"We¡¯re following it," Raine muttered, more to himself than to Alden.
Alden scoffed. "Following what? The giant silent bastard who just walked off?"
Raine exhaled sharply. "We don¡¯t have a choice."
Alden shot him a glare. "We always have a choice."
Raine shook his head. "No, we don¡¯t. If we keep going blind, we¡¯ll run straight into the Arcanum¡¯s hands. They¡¯re waiting for us, steering us. That thing¡ª" he motioned in the direction the Anchor had gone, "¡ªwants something different."
Alden muttered a curse, kicking at a loose stone. "Fine. But if this ends with us dead in a ditch, I¡¯m haunting you."
Raine didn¡¯t respond. He was already moving.
They traveled through the night.
The road the Anchor had taken wasn¡¯t a road at all¡ªjust a stretch of wild terrain, overgrown and uneven. And yet, Raine felt something pulling them forward.
A feeling at the edge of his awareness, like a thread tugging at the back of his mind. It wasn¡¯t the Abyss. It wasn¡¯t magic.
It was something else.
Alden didn¡¯t ask questions after a while. He grumbled, cursed under his breath when the brush got too thick, but he followed. Maybe he felt it too.
Then, just as the first pale hints of dawn touched the horizon, they saw it.
A ruin.
Not the crumbling remains of another waystation, not a lost village swallowed by time¡ªthis was different. This was buried.
Stone arches, half-broken and covered in moss, rose from the ground like jagged bones. The entrance had been sealed at some point, but the passage had cracked open, revealing a dark, yawning space beyond.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
Raine¡¯s pulse quickened.
Alden frowned. "No one¡¯s been here in years."
"That¡¯s the point," Raine murmured.
The Anchor had led them here for a reason.
And now they were going to find out why.
The air inside was thick with dust, stale but not lifeless.
Raine stepped carefully over broken stone, his breath shallow. The walls were lined with old carvings, faded beyond recognition. This place had been hidden¡ªnot just by time, but by intention.
Alden moved beside him, running a hand over the markings. "What the hell is this place?"
Raine didn¡¯t answer. He was focused on something else.
Something deeper.
At the end of the corridor, the space opened into a vast chamber. At its center stood a pedestal, and atop it¡ª
A book.
Raine¡¯s breath caught.
Not just any book.
This was Arcanum script.
Alden stiffened. "That¡¯s not good."
Raine stepped forward, drawn to it. The Abyss whispered at the edges of his mind, but not with hunger. With recognition.
This book was old. Older than anything he had ever seen. And yet, the pages were untouched by time, sealed beneath layers of protective enchantments.
He reached for it¡ª
The moment his fingers brushed the surface, the world shifted.
A shock of energy pulsed outward, not violent, but deep. It hummed through the chamber, through the stone, through his skin.
And then¡ª
The seal unraveled.
The magic didn¡¯t break. It didn¡¯t shatter.
It was undone.
Like it had been waiting for him.
Raine exhaled sharply, his pulse hammering in his ears.
Alden swore. "You¡¯re telling me you know how to open Arcanum locks now?"
Raine didn¡¯t answer.
Because he hadn¡¯t forced anything. The book had let him in.
The pages fluttered slightly. Then¡ªwords formed, shifting across the surface like ink bleeding into place.
Raine read.
The Anchors were never meant to kill.They were created to hold reality in place.The first Abyss-touched was not erased, but buried.They do not fear destruction. They fear awakening.
Raine¡¯s hands tightened on the edges of the book.
The Arcanum had rewritten history.
They had made Anchors into executioners, but that wasn¡¯t their purpose. They weren¡¯t just hunting Abyss-touched. They were preventing something.
Something that had already happened before.
Alden read over his shoulder, his face darkening. "This doesn¡¯t tell us where Kael is."
Raine swallowed. "No. But it tells us why they took him."
Alden gave him a sharp look. "And that is?"
Raine closed the book, exhaling slowly.
"They think I¡¯m going to wake something up."
Alden muttered a curse.
Then, suddenly¡ª
A sound.
Not from the chamber.
From above.
Raine¡¯s head snapped up just as he felt the shift in the air.
The Arcanum had arrived.
Alden pulled his sword. "No way in hell they just happened to find us here."
No. They hadn¡¯t.
They had been following.
The moment Raine had unraveled the seal, the Arcanum had known.
And now they were coming to erase them.
Raine clenched his jaw, stepping back from the pedestal, the weight of the book still in his hands. He had come here for answers.
Now he was going to have to fight to keep them.