Riftborn: The One Who Carries The Void

The great chamber of counsel was nothing like the Emberhalls.

Where the feast hall had echoed with flame and song, this place whispered. It was vast, cold — carved not to impress, but to endure. Pillars of black obsidian lined the room like silent sentinels. Molten light flowed in narrow veins along the walls, like the lifeblood of the mountain channeled into ritual.

Rei stood near the back, beside Kaia and Durik. The gem pulsed softly at his side, though none looked directly at it. The dwarves gathered in the chamber—deep-lords, runepriests, commanders—watched him with silent judgment.

At the far end of the stone dais, King Rurik stood with arms folded, his flame-wrought cloak shedding sparks that vanished before they reached the floor.

A silence heavier than war lingered.

Then Rurik spoke.

"The Forge lives," he said. "Its breath is fire. Its fire—ours. That has always been the law beneath the mountain."

The dwarves murmured softly in agreement.

"But something changed when the forge stirred. It did not rise alone."

His gaze turned toward Rei.

"It rose because of him."

Kaia's stance tightened. Durik's brows lowered.

Rurik raised a hand. "Not by accusation. By recognition."

He descended from the dais, slow and measured, like a boulder rolling with purpose. His voice softened, but it did not lose its weight.

"The Gem of Skarnveil was forged by the sacrifice of Mongrim. Its heartbeat binds to those who awaken the Forge. And now it answers to you, Riftborn."

Rei said nothing.

Rurik stepped closer, eyes locking with his.

"You walk beneath our mountain carrying the breath of the fire—and yet we do not know you."

Kaia stepped forward slightly, but Rei stopped her with the barest shake of his head.

"I never asked for your forge," Rei said. "Or your dragon. Or your gem."

"No," Rurik agreed. "But the fire asks for you."

He turned away, pacing back toward the center of the council floor.

"And that is why I've summoned you here."

"Let us be clear," Rurik said, addressing not just Rei now, but the gathered council. "There is power in that gem. Power ancient enough to stir the Wyrm. And if it can awaken a flame that slept for an age…"

He faced Rei again.

"…then it can ignite more."

Rei's jaw clenched. "What are you saying?"

"I'm offering you a place," Rurik said. "Here. In Druvadir. You carry the flame now. With guidance—my guidance—you could become more than a whisper of the Rift. You could become its blade."

Kaia stepped forward fully now. "You want to use him."

Rurik turned slowly. "I want to forge him. There is a difference."

Durik remained still, but Rei could feel the heat rising in his old friend.

"I'm not a weapon," Rei said flatly.

"Everything that survives," Rurik replied, "is."

"Tell me, Rei," the King said, voice gentler now. "What purpose do you serve, wandering the dark, marked by powers you do not name? What do you seek?"

"I seek to understand," Rei answered. "Not to be understood."

"And what if understanding is not enough?" Rurik pressed. "What if war comes? What if the thing stirring inside you wakes before you do?"

"Then I'll face it."

"Alone?"

Rei's voice was calm. Iron.

"No. Not alone."

Kaia was already beside him. Durik stepped forward, too—his shoulders squared, the mark of flame across his chest gleaming.

The King looked at them in silence.

And for a moment, it seemed he would press again.

The King turned, brows drawn low, the flames in his mantle dimming as silence swept through the room.

Then — a sound.

Low. Deep. Ancient.

A horn.

It rang not with violence… but intent.

A second followed. Sharper. A higher pitch — one not blown in centuries beneath the mountain.

Then a third.

Shrill.

Elven.

Rurik's jaw clenched. A runepriest stepped forward, whispering in the King's ear.

He didn't speak at first. Only turned, slowly, to Rei and the others.

"They've come."

Durik stepped forward. "Who?"

"Elves," Rurik said. "Thornevale."

Kaia's hands rested on her hips, tense. "Let me guess. Not here for trade."

"No," Rurik said. His voice was grim now. Heavy. "They want the same thing I do."

His eyes settled on Rei.

"The Gem."

Then lower, darker.

"And the Riftborn."