Chapter 7: The Shapeshifters Arrive
Kael's world had been unraveling piece by piece each secret a blade, each revelation a war drum. Now, with the taste of Veinlight still on their tongue and their pulse beating with a rhythm not entirely their own, they stood surrounded by shattered runes, fading echoes of Remnant shrieks, and the terrible silence of gods unbound.
The basin was broken. Riven had risen. And somewhere deep in Kael's marrow, something ancient whispered: This is only the beginning.
He loomed there, massive and half-shattered, wings dragging furrows through the stone. Chains slithered around his limbs, glowing red from the heat of too much power pressed too long into confinement.
Aeris gripped her time staff with white knuckles. Her voice trembled with rage and disbelief. "You were sealed beneath twelve spells, seven gods, and a sacrifice."
Riven's grin was slow. "Yes. By her. And yet here I am."
Kael's lips parted. "Me?"
Riven turned his eyes on them two molten orbs, impossible to read. "You left the door open. You, Veinborn, have always been the lock and the key."
Behind him, more chained figures began to shift. One melted from shadow to flesh, his face featureless but his presence suffocating. Another, taller than Riven and crowned with brambles, lifted a hand dripping with starlight.
"We do not belong in this age," the bramble-crowned one rumbled.
"But we are here now," said another.
Riven didn't look back. His focus was entirely on Kael. "The Vein has chosen to wake. The world will follow. Or burn."
The pressure in the air shifted.
Remnants screamed. Not in anger in fear.
They poured from the shattered crevices like spilled ink, their eyeless faces twisting toward Kael. Drawn by scent. Drawn by thread.
Kael threw up a shield of light instinctively. Runes bloomed across the dome like flowers in panic.
Thorne stepped to their left, sword at the ready. "We can't hold this line."
Aeris whispered, eyes spiraling in time-magic, "Something's coming."
A shriek split the sky.
Kael winced then blinked.
Because the shriek wasn't a Remnant. It was... alive.
The moon trembled.
Then the wind shifted.
Two blurs erupted from the eastern sky, moving too fast to see clearly. Wings? Claws? They tore through the Remnants like predators through carrion, scattering them in clouds of screaming dust.
They landed not gently, but with the impact of falling stars. The mountain quaked beneath their weight. When the light cleared, two figures stood at the edge of the basin breathing heavily, steam rising from their shoulders.
Twins.
Not identical, but unmistakably born of the same storm.
The taller had long, frost-white hair braided down his back and eyes the color of shattered glass. His armor shimmered with Orrenfall metal, runes etched into every seam. His presence radiated restraint and control the eye of a hurricane.
The other was darker in every way. Ink-black curls haloed his head, his features sharper, hungrier, and marked with shifting sigils that pulsed in tandem with Kael's own. He grinned like someone walking into destiny with teeth bared.
They didn't speak. They simply moved.
The taller shifted mid-stride into a creature of silver fur and gleaming talons, eyes blazing as he tore through a cluster of Remnants with savage grace.
The second danced through shadows, each motion a blur of aethersteel and light. His blade was alive, shaped like a fang of the moon.
Kael could barely track them.
They were beautiful.
Terrifying.
And unmistakably tied to them.
When the last Remnant fell, turned to a smear of memory and ash, the twins returned to their human forms. Bloodied. Glowing. Silent.
They walked toward Kael.
Not slowly.
Like they knew where they were going.
The taller one stopped two paces from them and dropped to one knee.
"Veinborn," he said, voice deep, reverent. "You breathe."
Kael blinked, heart thundering. "What?"
The darker twin grinned, flipping his blade casually before jamming it into the dirt.
"Told you they'd be beautiful."
Thorne stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The white-haired twin rose. "Kiel. My twin Laeth and I are shapers of Orrenfall."
Laeth tossed Kael a lopsided wink. "Also known as dreamers of inconvenient prophecies."
Kael felt dizzy. "You knew me?"
Kiel nodded once. "We have always known you."
Laeth spoke softly now. "Since birth, we have dreamt of your voice. Seen your face in fires and ice. Our parents thought it was madness. Until the Eclipse."
Kiel's hand tightened around his hilt. "We were born under a cursed moon. Our people believed we would bring imbalance. But in every dream... you were the center. The constant. The axis around which time curved."
Aeris exhaled. "Thread-bound."
Kiel nodded. "We were woven to you."
Kael shook their head. "I don't understand. Why now?"
"Because now you're waking up," Laeth whispered. "And so are we."
Silence stretched between them, thick and taut.
Then Laeth stepped forward.
Kael flinched slightly, but didn't step away.
Laeth extended his hand. Not like an offer. Like a truth.
Kiel mirrored him, stepping to Kael's other side.
"Let us show you," Laeth said.
"Let us remember together," said Kiel.
Kael looked at each of them. Then reached out.
And touched them both.
The Vein screamed.
Or sang.
It was impossible to tell.
Power surged through Kael's body in a golden shockwave, blasting outward from their chest and flooding the mountain with a sound like chimes made of thunder.
The moon above them shuddered.
And turned violet.
Aeris gasped.
The chained gods behind Riven fell silent.
Even Riven himself took a step back, his grin faltering.
Kael's eyes glowed with layered runes, cycling faster now. Laeth and Kiel dropped to one knee, but not in submission. In synchronization. As if some old instinct had snapped into place.
Kael saw stars aligning.
Saw threads from both men tethered to their own. Not as puppets. Not as chains.
As choices.
The future cracked.
Above, the violet moon pulsed.
And somewhere far away, something ancient woke up.
It opened its eyes.
And whispered Kael's name.