Chapter 17: Binding shards
The shard grew heavier the longer Riven carried it.
By the time they stumbled across shelter, Riven could barely stand upright.
The world blurred at the edges, colors dulling to a washed-out gray. His breathing slowed into shallow gasps, each one scattering his thoughts.
"Riven," Veyla said sharply, grabbing his arm. Her hand felt distant. "You're burning up."
He shook her off with a faint smile. "It's alright, don't sweat it," he said, pulling away from her. But he knew it wasn't. He was feeling sick, and he didn't know why.
They continued walking, ducking below a pillar into the ruins of an old shrine—a circle of broken stones half-swallowed by the earth. Crumbled pillars leaned inward, as if bowing toward the empty altar at the center.
The air was thick with the scent of dust and something sweet, sickly sweet, like rotten blossoms left too long in the sun.
Above them, the sky stretched on, endless and colorless. A place where even the stars had forgotten to burn brightly.
Riven staggered forward and dropped to one knee at the center of the shrine. The rune on his arm pulsed steadily.
The Shard of Sorrow, though wrapped in the cloth, released faint ribbons of grief into the air, weaving through the shrine like invisible smoke.
"I think it's time to bind it," he muttered slowly, as if tired.