Chapter 233: Shardveil’s Edge

The Whispering Raven sliced through black waters under a sky stitched with dying stars. The Drift lived up to its name. The ship drifted—though the sails were full, though the wind screamed. The world around them moved... wrong.

Kael stood at the helm, hand tight on the rail. Cold sweat prickled down his back. Every few minutes, whispers curled over the deck. Not voices—but impressions. Names he didn't know. Regrets he'd never felt.

Corven came up behind him, rubbing his temples. "This place is eating into my thoughts. I dreamed I was an old man, tending a grave I never dug."

"It's the Drift," Kael said quietly. "Memory and sea, mingled."

Lysara emerged next, hair tied back, eyes harder than usual.

"I just saw my mother," she said flatly. "She's been dead ten years. She told me to turn back."

Kael didn't respond. His jaw tightened.

Below deck, one of the crew screamed.

Moments later, another followed.

Kael drew his blade.

Corven unslung his crossbow. "Let me guess—haunted sea monsters? Undead mermaids? Cursed barnacles?"

Kael didn't answer. He just moved.

Below, the lanterns flickered blue. Three sailors crouched in the galley, muttering to themselves in overlapping voices—as if dozens spoke from a single throat.

Kael stepped forward.

"Hold."

Their heads snapped up.

The first's eyes were empty. The second bled from the ears. The third had carved symbols into his arms—symbols that glowed faintly.

Lysara flanked Kael. "This isn't madness. This is imprinting. Something's rewriting them."

Kael nodded. "The vault's damage... maybe it opened a path."

He stepped closer to the glowing sailor. "Who do you see?"

The sailor hissed, eyes unfocused.

"She waits. Beneath. In the glass that remembers."

Corven blinked. "Okay, I vote we turn this ship around."

"No," Kael said. "We're close."

Lysara narrowed her gaze. "You feel it too?"

He nodded. "Shardveil is calling. Not with words. With... need."

He stepped back. "Bind them. Gently. When we dock, we get them help."

"Assuming Shardveil isn't just a myth," Corven muttered.

Kael looked him dead in the eyes.

"It's not."

By dawn, land emerged on the horizon—but it was not normal.

Jagged stone jutted from the sea like broken clock hands. Floating isles orbited slowly in the air above the coast, tethered by glowing ley-lines. Between them, a city shimmered—built in spirals, domes, and angles that defied logic.

Shardveil.

Even Kael, who had faced the Priory's nightmares, felt his breath catch.

Lysara exhaled. "I've read a hundred accounts. None of them said it was beautiful."

"It's also broken," Kael said. "Look closely."

Half the city floated.

The other half was submerged.

Time fractures shimmered in the air like cracks in a mirror. A clocktower spun backward while its shadow moved forward. Bells tolled in reverse.

Corven leaned over the railing. "I officially hate this place."

The ship docked on a spiraling pier that rebuilt itself every few minutes, like a snake eating its tail. An old man waited at the edge—skin like parchment, eyes like candle smoke.

"You are late," he said.

Kael narrowed his eyes. "You expected us?"

The man didn't blink. "Shardveil expects all who remember."

They were led through winding, paradoxical streets. Every alley seemed to double back on itself. Time bent strangely. A child ran past them, laughing—then ran past again, younger. A woman sold memory shards beside a statue of herself—half-aged, half not yet built.

The old man guided them to a high hall with crystal walls.

"This is the Echo Court," he said. "Those who keep what's left of Shardveil."

Inside, robed figures stood in silence—each with a mirror-mask and a small floating shard orbiting their heads.

One stepped forward.

"You bring pieces," they said. "Of the fallen flame."

Kael held out the memory crystal from Kareth-Fen.

The mirrors trembled.

"You must not awaken her," the figure said. "She sleeps beneath the city. The First Archivist."

Kael stiffened. "Who is she?"

The masked one replied, "The one who remembers everything. Even the parts of the world that were erased."

Lysara inhaled sharply. "So the rumors are true."

Kael's voice dropped. "She could rewrite history."

"No," the figure said. "She could restore it."

The room darkened.

Corven swore under his breath. "I really hate this place."

Kael stepped forward. "Then take me to her."

The court paused.

Then nodded.

And deep beneath the shifting city, something ancient stirred.