The Golden-Eyed Stranger
Zyra stood her ground, fists clenched, as the golden-eyed man watched her with an expression of quiet amusement.
"I don't have time for riddles," she snapped. "Who are you?"
The man exhaled slowly, as if her impatience genuinely entertained him.
"My name," he said, tilting his head slightly, "is Riven."
The name carried weight—like it had been spoken in whispered legends long before her time.
"Never heard of you," she shot back.
Riven's smirk didn't falter. "That will change soon enough."
Zyra's heart pounded as the wind swirled around them, carrying the scent of charred earth. She refused to let his calm demeanor shake her. Kieran was gone. The rift had taken him. And this man—this creature—had answers.
"Tell me where Kieran is," she demanded.
Riven studied her for a long moment. Then, he stepped forward—too close.
Zyra's body tensed, but before she could summon what little magic remained in her veins, he lifted a single hand.
A flicker of dark energy rippled from his fingertips—not flame, not shadow. Something older.
And suddenly—Zyra saw.
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The Rift's Prison
Her vision blurred, the world spinning away. The battlefield vanished, replaced by cold.
A vast, endless expanse of black stone and pulsing energy.
Kieran.
He was there—trapped, bound by chains of pure shadow, his body motionless. His usually sharp eyes were unfocused, his breath coming in slow, shallow gulps.
Something ancient and monstrous loomed behind him. Its form was impossible to fully grasp—tendrils of darkness shifting, glowing sigils carved into its massive shape.
The rift hadn't just taken Kieran.
It was feeding off him.
Zyra gasped, the vision snapping away as suddenly as it had come. She stumbled back, her pulse racing.
Riven lowered his hand, his golden gaze knowing. "Now you understand."
Her breath came in sharp bursts. "You—how—"
Riven simply raised an eyebrow. "You asked where he was."
Zyra shook her head, fury and panic rising. "Then tell me how to get him back."
Riven's smirk finally faded. His expression turned serious, his gaze sharpening.
"There is a way," he said. "But it will cost you."
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The Bargain
Zyra's fingers curled into fists. She knew that tone. She knew what kind of creatures spoke like that.
"You want something."
Riven inclined his head slightly. "Naturally."
She exhaled sharply, barely holding her temper in check. "What is it?"
He watched her for a long moment before answering.
"The rift is not just a tear in reality," he said. "It is a gateway. And I want something from the other side."
Zyra stilled. "What?"
His smile was slow, deliberate. "Something that only someone like you can retrieve."
The air between them grew thick with tension.
Zyra didn't trust him. Not for a second.
But Kieran was running out of time.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
"…What do I have to do?"
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