Chapter 69: The Vaingall Known Dearly
The distortion cycle had begun again, and with it came the slow unwinding of Solvish Keep’s presence within Vaingall’s unstable borders. In only a few hours, the bastion would phase out, retreating to wherever Karasu’s command lattice deemed suitable next.
The agreement had been held. The shrines had rooted. The game had been played.
Now it was time to rest.
Kivas and Samael stood just beyond the perimeter of Solvish Keep’s influence, the faint crystalline distortion barrier no longer pulsing around them.
The air here was denser, warmer, braided with the ambient breath of Vaingall itself. Chaos, wild and ancient, returned in full the moment the Keep’s stabilizing field no longer pressed against the land.
Kivas raised her hand and snapped her fingers twice. The sound was swallowed by the wind, but Samael caught the signal.
Samael’s eyes glimmered faintly as her fingers carved an invisible rune through the space between them.
The moment it was complete, a soft tremor rippled through the atmosphere. The nearby shrubs blurred. The sun dimmed slightly. Observation veils coiled into place like a divine lock.
"There," Samael said. "No foreign sight, sound, or spiritual resonance will get past this layer unless I allow it."
Kivas let out a long, honest exhale and collapsed face-first into the grass. "Oh thank the almighty goddess of harvest," she muttered into the soil. "I don’t have to be divine anymore." She rolled over onto her back, arms spread wide, and began to laugh softly to herself. "Six days of this. Six days of saying wheat and grain like I was born in a granary. How the hell did I pull this off?"
Samael knelt beside her, adjusting her sleeve with unnecessary care. "You did well," she said flatly, "Truly. If you had failed, Karasu would be draining your soul into a containment jar by now."