They walked for three nights without rest.
Rael followed Maerin through forests that whispered in forgotten tongues, across rivers that pulsed with faint red currents, and over hills where no birds sang. The further they traveled, the more the land seemed to reject the laws of nature. Time felt wrong. Air felt heavy. Even his own thoughts had begun to drift like smoke.
The blood inside him hummed louder with every step.
"Where are we going?" Rael finally asked.
Maerin, ever silent, finally spoke.
"To the Cradle of Veins. The place where the First Blood was spilled. And where your power can either be forged or consume you."
Rael looked down at his arms. The violet lines had not faded. They had deepened. Etched into his skin now, like natural tattoos. When he blinked, he could sometimes see symbols buried within them. Glyphs. Sigils. Language that had never been taught to him, but which he somehow understood.
"It's changing me."
"It's awakening you," Maerin said. "You're still in the Flicker Vein. But soon, you'll either stabilize and become Awakened or your body will reject the blood entirely."
Rael's stomach twisted. "What happens if I reject it?"
Maerin glanced at him. "You'll bleed from the eyes. Your bones will snap under their own weight. Your memories will unravel like smoke. And then you'll die."
"Right," Rael muttered. "Encouraging."
They came upon a narrow pass just before dawn. Sharp cliffs rose on either side, framing a stone archway covered in black vines. Beyond it lay a hollow valley shrouded in mist. The sky above was blood-orange, though the sun had not risen.
"This is it," Maerin said, voice low. "The Cradle."
Rael stepped through the arch.
The air changed instantly. His skin prickled. His blood surged. The valley was not empty. It was alive with power. The land pulsed beneath his feet like a heartbeat. The mist parted slowly, revealing a shattered temple at the center of the basin. Its walls were veined with glowing crimson and violet stone. In its center floated a crystal heart, suspended in silence.
Rael took a step forward.
"Wait," Maerin warned. "This place tests all blood. Even yours."
Rael didn't stop. He couldn't. The closer he got, the louder the pulse in his chest became. With every step, memories not his own flickered across his mind. Battles fought centuries ago. Voices chanting beneath eclipses. A woman made of ash and fire, weeping as she gave her blood to the earth.
Rael dropped to his knees before the heart.
It began to beat.
The glyphs on his skin erupted in light. His veins lit up like rivers. His mind fractured into echoes each one a version of himself in a different life. Warrior. Priest. Monster. King.
He screamed.
And the Cradle screamed back.
Maerin gripped his staff tighter. "He's going into the Veinscarred stage already. That's not supposed to happen yet."
Rael's skin cracked. Not with wounds, but with glowing fissures. Symbols bled from his flesh like ink. The ground around him blackened.
And then silence.
Rael rose.
His eyes were no longer violet.
They were silver.
"Rael," Maerin whispered, "what do you see?"
Rael turned toward the heart and spoke, voice layered with a thousand echoes.
"I see everything."