Riftborn: The One Who Carries The Void

The feast had ended, but the fire did not die.

It pulsed above them in slow, molten waves — the heart of the Emberhalls beating steady against stone. The dwarves had filtered out in groups: some to rest, some to sharpen, some to wait for orders they knew were coming.

Only a few embers glowed in the long hearth now.

Rei sat on a ledge of blackened iron, a flagon of untouched ale cooling beside him. He had not spoken since the King's words. Not of the Wyrm. Not of the scream. Not of the fire that now breathed in sync with something old inside him.

Kaia approached without sound. As always.

She leaned against the same ledge, arms crossed beneath her chest, gaze fixed on the forge's great pillar of flame. For a time, she said nothing. The silence was not uncomfortable.

It was shared.

"It's different," Rei said finally. His voice was low. Rough. "The way the mountain breathes now."

Kaia glanced at him. "You feel it too."

Rei nodded. "It used to be still. Like… something buried, watching. Now it's like standing next to a heartbeat. Like it's alive."

"It is," she murmured. "And it's watching you."

Rei exhaled slowly. "I know."

They sat like that for a time — beastkin and Riftborn, one born in ice, the other forged in shadow, and both marked by things older than they could name.

Then Rei asked, quietly: "Kaia… do you think the Wyrm screamed because of me?"

She turned her head. The fire lit one side of his face, casting shadows down the other — like a man caught between flame and ash.

"You think it fears you?" she asked.

"I don't know." He looked down at his hands. "I'm afraid… of whatever is inside me. What if the Wyrm screamed because it saw that too?"

Kaia's eyes softened. She stepped closer, sitting beside him now, their shoulders almost touching.

"I don't pretend to understand the mountain," she said. "Or dragons. Or why the Forge calls to you."

"But I know what I see when you fight. When you lead. When you choose."

"You're not a danger because of what's inside you."

She met his gaze.

"You're dangerous because you refuse to become what it wants."

Rei almost smiled. Almost.

"I wish that were enough."

They lapsed into silence again.

Above, the forgefire shifted — throwing new shadows. The air was dry, but not cold. It carried the scent of metal, and deep beneath that, something older. Like memory. Like stone that remembered heat before it knew shape.

"Kaia," Rei said suddenly. "Have you noticed something about dwarves?"

She tilted her head. "Besides the fact that they'd rather eat stone than vegetables?"

Rei huffed a quiet laugh. "No, I mean — they're all tall."

She blinked. "Tall?"

He motioned toward the grand throne. "Rurik towers over everyone. And Durik — he's like a granite tower in motion. Isn't dwarf supposed to mean… short?"

Kaia smirked. "Maybe it means dense instead."

Rei shook his head. "I don't know what's more intimidating. The forgefire, the Wyrm… or how Durik breaks a table just by leaning on it."

Kaia chuckled — and it was a rare sound. Not the mocking tone she used in battle or banter, but something real. Light.

"You're scared, aren't you?" she said, gentler now.

Rei didn't answer right away.

Then, softly: "Yes."

His voice was raw.

"I don't know what's coming. I don't know if I'm the reason the mountain screams, or if something worse is waking. But I feel it."

"In my spine. In the space behind my ribs. Like pressure, waiting to split."

Kaia reached out, not suddenly — but deliberately — and placed a hand over his.

"You're not alone."

Rei looked at her. Truly looked.

The beastkin warrior. The frost-born huntress. The only one who had never looked at him like a threat.

"Thank you," he said.

She nodded, and for a long moment, there was only the hum of old flame around them.

Then —

A sound.

Soft. Distant.

Bootsteps.

Not many.

Rei and Kaia stood in unison.

From the outer corridor, armored shapes approached. Torchlight danced against the blacksteel walls.

Durik appeared first — his brows furrowed, his beard still wet from a wash.

Behind him came three dwarves in plated mail — their pauldrons marked with deep-sea runes, helms shaped like the heads of deep-diving whales.

They knelt in perfect unison before Durik.

And then one spoke.

"Second Son of the Frostvein, Prince of the Deep — the King has summoned you."

Their eyes flicked to Rei. Then to Kaia. There was no fear. Only curiosity.

The dwarf at the front bowed his head slightly.

"And he wishes the Riftborn to stand at his side."

Rei's eyes narrowed.

Kaia's hand drifted toward her hilt — not in threat, but readiness.

Durik turned to them, jaw set like stone.

"It's beginning," he said.

"Whatever this is."

Rei looked back toward the flame — still pulsing like breath.

Still waiting.

And then he nodded.

"Let's go."