The Shattered Oath Part 5

The shattered remnants of the altar still pulsed with the echoes of what had transpired. Elira sagged in Vaelin’s arms, her breath shallow, her skin ice-cold. Her eyes flickered with traces of the Veil’s lingering energy, a storm of power barely contained within her mortal form. The chamber was eerily silent now, the survivors of both the Oathsworn and the Vowbound stirring amid the rubble. But something was wrong—Vaelin could feel it. The air was too still, the shadows too deep.

Nyara struggled to her feet, blood running down the side of her face. She fixed her gaze on the remnants of the altar. “The Rupture has begun. The Veil is fraying.”

A deep rumble coursed through the ground. The very walls of the chamber seemed to stretch and distort, as if reality itself was unraveling. Vaelin tightened his grip on Elira. “Tell me how to fix this.”

Nyara pressed a shaking hand against the altar's remains, whispering something in the old tongue. “The Oath must be reforged. If not, the Veil will fully break, and everything beyond it will spill into our world.”

Elira stirred, her fingers twitching against Vaelin’s chest. “I can feel it,” she whispered. “The things pressing against the other side. They… they remember me.”

Vaelin’s heart pounded. “What does that mean?”

Elira’s expression was unreadable. “I don’t know.” But her voice was distant, as if part of her was already slipping away.

A low growl echoed from the depths of the chamber. Then another. And another.

The first of them emerged from the darkness—twisted forms with shifting, incomplete faces, their bodies made of writhing shadow and pulsing veins of Veil energy. Beasts born of an unraveling world, no longer bound by the separation between realms.

“They’re already coming through,” Nyara breathed.

The Vowbound leader, barely standing, spat a curse. “Then we fight.”

Vaelin’s sword was in his hand before he had time to think. The creatures surged forward in a blur of movement, shrieking as they lashed out with razor-edged limbs. Steel clashed with shadow, magic crackled in the air. The chamber became a battlefield once more, but this time, the enemy was something unnatural, something that did not belong.

Elira pushed herself away from Vaelin, stumbling toward the remains of the altar. Her hands trembled as she placed them against the shattered stone. “I can close it.”

Vaelin slashed through one of the creatures, its form dissipating into a black mist before reforming again. “Elira, that thing nearly killed you! You can’t—”

“I have to,” she gasped. “The Veil knows me. It’s already inside me.”

Nyara’s eyes widened in realization. “She’s a conduit. That’s why it didn’t kill her—it was trying to use her as a vessel.”

Elira turned to Vaelin, her expression filled with a strange, heartbreaking resolve. “You have to trust me.”

Vaelin’s grip on his sword tightened. Every instinct screamed at him to stop her. To find another way. But there was no time, and in her eyes, he saw no fear—only certainty.

He nodded. “I trust you.”

Elira exhaled sharply, then turned back to the altar, her hands pressing firmly against the stone. The chamber pulsed with energy, the Veil responding to her touch. A wind howled from nowhere, pulling at their clothes, dragging at their weapons. The creatures howled in agony as their bodies began to fray, their forms unraveling like threads pulled from a tapestry.

A sudden force slammed into Vaelin, sending him sprawling to the ground. The Vowbound leader had lunged for Elira, his obsidian blade aimed at her heart. “She cannot be allowed to—”

Vaelin moved on instinct. His sword found flesh. The Vowbound warrior’s eyes widened in shock as the steel drove through him. He staggered back, his weapon clattering to the ground. With a final, gasping breath, he collapsed.

Elira cried out as the energy around the altar reached its peak. The world split apart in a flash of blinding light.

And then—silence.

The chamber was whole once more. The creatures were gone. The air was still. The Veil had been sealed.

Vaelin pushed himself to his feet, heart hammering as he searched for Elira. She lay at the base of the altar, unmoving.

He was at her side in an instant, gathering her into his arms. “Elira.”

Her eyes fluttered open, exhaustion heavy in them, but she was there. She was still Elira.

She smiled weakly. “Told you I could do it.”

Relief crashed over him so fiercely that he almost laughed. Instead, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his tunic. “No promises.”

Nyara approached, surveying the altar. “It is done. The Oath is reforged. The Veil is safe.”

Vaelin looked at the remnants of the chamber, at the bodies left behind, at the ones who had survived. This had been more than a battle. This had been the start of something far greater.

Elira shifted in his arms, looking up at him with something unreadable in her eyes. “This isn’t over, Vaelin.”

He knew she was right. The Veil had remembered her.

And it would not forget.

___________________________________________________

All Parts of this Series

• The Shattered Oath Part 1
• The Shattered Oath Part 2
• The Shattered Oath Part 3
• The Shattered Oath Part 4
• The Shattered Oath Part 5