(From "Of the Bound and the Bearing: Tales Between Realms")
Location: A high mountain forge-temple long abandoned, with magma glowing through cracks in the stone. The air is dry, sharp, and restless—as if the wind remembers war.
KAELITH: You look far too comfortable for someone standing above fire.
VEYTH(smirking): And you look far too tense for someone who asked for this meeting.
KAELITH: I didn't ask. I challenged.
VEYTH: And I accepted. So here we are—halfway between destruction and legacy. How poetic.
KAELITH(circling): This was once the seat of kings. The Ashen Court. They ruled until their bones cracked from pride.
VEYTH: Then burned in their own hearths. A fitting end.
KAELITH: You're not even pretending to mourn them.
VEYTH(shrugs): I only mourn what still breathes. And maybe not even that.
KAELITH: You enjoy this too much.
VEYTH: Because you don't enjoy anything.
KAELITH: I enjoy silence.
VEYTH(stepping closer): Then why summon me, Kaelith the Crimson-bearer, Fist of the Ember Crown, wielder of judgment and never his own peace?
KAELITH(flat): Because I need your voice. Not your mouth.
VEYTH(eyes narrowing): You're looking for an echo again.
KAELITH: I'm trying to understand it.
VEYTH: You mean the phrase? The one each of us has spoken without knowing why?
KAELITH: Yes. "Of the bound and the bearing. Tales between realms." Why do we all know it?
VEYTH(mocking tone): Maybe it's a brand we don't remember receiving. Or a script we're reciting from a play no one rehearsed.
KAELITH(voice hardens): Don't toy with it. There's a weight in those words. They don't leave when spoken.
VEYTH: They never leave. They wait.
KAELITH: Then what are we waiting for?
VEYTH(quieter now): The end of our turn.
KAELITH: You believe that?
VEYTH: I believe in the sound after a name is spoken. I believe in coincidence happening too often. And I believe you're more afraid than you'd ever let me see.
KAELITH(turning away): It's not fear.
VEYTH(stepping closer): Then say it again. If you're so sure.
KAELITH(reluctantly): Of the bound and the bearing. Tales between realms... There.
VEYTH: And what did you feel?
KAELITH(after a pause): Like something listening.
VEYTH: Not something. Someone.
KAELITH(quietly): It's in every ruin. Every fragment. Even here—in flame, in ash. This isn't just a story, Veyth.
VEYTH: No. It's a forge.
KAELITH(raises brow): Of what?
VEYTH: Choice. And you came to make one.
KAELITH(bristling): You know what happens if I choose wrong.
VEYTH: I know what happens if you refuse to choose at all. (Magma pulses below. A chain embedded in the cracked floor glows faintly—tugging once, then still.)
KAELITH(watching it): That wasn't there before.
VEYTH(smiling slightly): It appears when one of us speaks the name.
KAELITH: Then there's more than one chain.
VEYTH: Four already. This makes five.
KAELITH(grimly): One for every meeting?
VEYTH: No. One for every choice made in conversation.
KAELITH(frowning): I thought you said you weren't the key.
VEYTH: I'm not. But I know how to turn the lock.
KAELITH(voice low): Do it.
VEYTH(quiet, serious now): Not yet. There's one more chain. One more voice.
KAELITH: And then what?
VEYTH(looks to the roof of the forge): Then they all meet. Whether they want to or not. (A gust of hot wind kicks through the chamber. The molten crack glows brighter—then calms.)
KAELITH(softly): And who writes the tale?
VEYTH(whispered reply): No one. Or maybe… all of us.