The Glass Desert
---
Kael jolted awake.
The dream still clung to him like wet silk — a tower rising from dunes of molten glass, shifting beneath twin moons. A voice had called to him from within the tower. Not the Veil. Something older. Hungrier.
The name echoed in his mind:
Zephyrinth.
Elara burst into the chamber moments later, breath sharp. "Trouble in the vault. One of the acolytes tried to breach the Shard vault."
Kael was already moving. "Who?"
"No mask. No robes. Looked like one of ours."
Inside job.
They descended fast, boots echoing down polished marble stairs. The vault was a spiraled chamber beneath the citadel — sealed with six rings of woven Veilrunes. No outsider could reach it.
Unless they had help.
When they arrived, two Echo guards lay unconscious at the door. Theron was already there, kneeling beside one of them. He didn't look up as they approached.
"Second breach in a week," he said. "This time they nearly got through the first ring."
Kael frowned. "They're not after relics. They're testing response times."
Theron finally stood, eyes narrowing. "Exactly."
"And when we're too slow—"
"They'll strike for real."
---
Later, Kael stood in the quiet of the Wayhall — a chamber meant for meditation, its walls alive with muted reflections of the Veil. Elara joined him, folding her arms.
"Another dream?"
Kael nodded. "Zephyrinth. A shifting tower buried beneath a desert of glass. The Veil whispered the location."
Elara tilted her head. "That's a myth."
"Like the Axis?"
She smirked faintly. "Fair."
"Do you know it?"
"Only what stories say: a prison forged by the Old Magi to contain a Shard that devoured its bearer. A place where time warps and reality bends."
Kael's eyes darkened. "That's where I'm going."
---
Before dawn, Kael readied to leave.
He was alone — or so he thought.
"You're not going without me."
Kael turned.
Theron stood in the archway, dressed in light armor, a sword across his back. His tone was flat, unreadable.
"You said I was dangerous."
"You are. Which is why I'm going with you. Someone needs to kill you if you lose control."
Kael gave a grim smile. "Reassuring."
Theron stepped closer. "The Shards are ancient forces, Kael. They don't want to be wielded. They want to consume. You keep thinking you're special — maybe you are — but they don't care. They just wait."
Kael shouldered his pack.
"Then let's not keep them waiting."
---
By nightfall, the mountains vanished behind them.
Ahead stretched the Glass Desert — a place where the sun scorched the land into crystal, and storms carried echoes of other timelines. Sand shifted in unnatural ways, gleaming like polished obsidian.
Kael stood at the ridge, the wind whipping his cloak.
"Let's find a tower that shouldn't exist."
But neither of them noticed the figure watching from the cliffs — eyes gleaming, a blade strapped across her back carved from Veilbone.
The Veilcrowned Dynasty had arrived first.
And they weren't here to negotiate.