Shards of the Prince

---

The climb out of Ashlock was silent.

No one spoke—not even Kael.

The mountain air felt heavier than before, as if the very wind had tasted what Riven had touched and wanted no part of it. The path behind them faded quickly into mist, leaving only jagged stone and shadow in their wake.

Lyssa walked beside him, her expression guarded. She hadn't asked another question since the Seal sank into his chest. Not when his skin seared. Not when he stopped breathing for thirty seconds. Not even when his eyes briefly shimmered with that unnatural crimson-gold flicker.

But he felt her eyes on him.

She was afraid.

He couldn't blame her.

Even he didn't know what had just been awakened.

Veyron, for once, was silent.

---

They reached the camp just past midnight.

Liora had them drink from a small silver vial before entering the sleeping ward—a soft enchantment to soothe the nerves and purge the poisonous energy left by the deeper chamber.

Kael tossed himself down near the fire and finally broke the silence. "So… you wanna talk about what the hell just happened? Or are we all pretending that glowing red Seal thing was normal?"

"It wasn't a Seal," Liora said without looking up. "Not in the way we know them."

Kael gestured toward Riven. "Then what was it? Because it sure looked like it tried to set him on fire from the inside out."

Lyssa stepped in before Liora could answer. "It was a memory."

Riven turned his head slightly toward her.

She met his gaze. "It wasn't just a power buried beneath Ashlock. It was a piece of who he was. A tether to the truth."

Kael blinked. "Great. So now we're collecting trauma Seals?"

"It changed him," Liora murmured. "I felt it. His signature is different now. He's no longer carrying just the First Seal."

Riven finally spoke. "It wasn't the First. It wasn't any of the Six."

Kael's brow furrowed. "Then what the hell was it?"

Riven stood, moving toward the edge of the firelight. The stars were pale above, veiled by cloud, but one still burned clear overhead. He stared at it for a long moment.

"My father called it the Crimson Gate."

That caught their attention.

"He never explained it," Riven continued. "Just once… when I was a boy, I asked about the sword he carried. It shimmered red when he held it. I thought it was enchanted." He glanced at his palm. "He said the blade had passed through the Crimson Gate—and that anything which did could never return the same."

Kael stood slowly. "And you think… that's what happened to you?"

Riven didn't answer.

But in his silence, Kael saw the truth.

Lyssa rose next. "So what now?"

"Now?" Riven's voice was quiet. "We find the next Seal."

Kael's voice sharpened. "You barely survived the last one. And whatever that was down there, it changed something inside you. Don't pretend it didn't."

"I'm not pretending," Riven said, still watching the stars. "But I don't have time to unravel it. The Order's ahead of us. We're playing catch-up."

"Then maybe we slow down," Kael snapped. "Train. Prepare. You can't keep brute-forcing your way through these Seals and pretending it doesn't leave a mark."

Riven finally turned to face him, eyes colder than before.

"I'm not pretending anything, Kael. I'm surviving."

Kael stared at him, jaw tightening. "There's a difference between surviving and becoming something you can't come back from."

The fire cracked.

No one spoke for a long moment.

Then Riven said, "You're right."

Kael blinked.

Riven's voice softened, just barely. "We're not ready. I'm not. We need to stop. Train. Regroup. Before the next Seal kills one of us."

Liora exhaled slowly. "Then where?"

"There's a ruin north of the Veylin Ridge," Riven said. "An old academy. Destroyed during the first Seal Wars. It had vaults—arcane chambers used for refining magic and combat."

Kael gave a low whistle. "How do you know that?"

"I read."

"You read… about a place lost to time."

Riven smirked faintly. "I remember some things now."

Lyssa smiled. Just a little.

---

They traveled at first light.

The road to Veylin Ridge was rough, winding through broken hills and overgrown paths. Riven walked ahead, always watching, always silent. But the weight on his shoulders felt clearer now—defined. Like he finally had a name for the shadow following him.

The Crimson Gate.

What had his father passed through?

What had he passed through?

As they walked, Kael eventually caught up beside him.

"For what it's worth," Kael said, not looking at him, "I don't think you've changed completely."

Riven raised an eyebrow.

"You're still reckless. Still dramatic. Still kind of a self-righteous pain in the ass."

Riven gave a soft laugh. "That your version of encouragement?"

"Something like that."

A pause.

Then Riven said, "Thanks."

Kael glanced at him sideways. "Just don't go all glowing-eyed demon king on me. If you do, I'm not holding back."

"Good."

They walked in silence again.

But it was warmer this time.

---

That night, as they made camp near the ridge's base, Riven stood watch. The others slept in a rough circle, Lyssa curled beside Liora, Kael snoring softly, his blade half unsheathed beside him.

Riven's Seal pulsed faintly in the dark.

Then, Veyron stirred again.

You did well, little heir. The Crimson Gate remembers you now. The rest will follow.

Riven didn't answer.

Still angry with me? I did warn you. I always do. You just don't listen.

"What are you?" Riven whispered.

A teacher. A prisoner. A mirror. Take your pick.

"You're enjoying this."

Not enjoyment. Curiosity. You're more interesting than most who come this far.

"You've seen others?"

Oh, yes. Kings. Tyrants. Martyrs. None lasted. None remembered what mattered when they crossed the line.

Riven closed his eyes.

"I'll be different."

They all said that, too.

The Seal glowed once—then faded.

And the night continued.

---