Beastbound: Reincarnated in the Abyss

Leaving the Veiled City was not as simple as turning and walking away.

The city did not like to be abandoned. Its streets twisted, trying to loop them back toward that hollow throne. Statues that once only watched now leaned subtly across alleys, their blank masks like hands trying to herd them inward.

But Raen walked on, blade still drawn, Memoryweaver smoldering faintly under his ribs. Each step pulsed with small threads of light that coiled across the ground — threads the city flinched from, buildings curling away, shadows shrinking back.

Ember Vow stayed close. Her hand brushed his every so often, a contact so light it might have been accidental if he hadn't felt the deliberate press of her fingertips each time. Hollowfang trotted ahead, low to the ground, ears twitching. Despair Maw brought up the rear, vast body swaying side to side, its breath leaving delicate frost patterns that vanished almost instantly.

At last the glass avenues of the Veiled City gave way to rougher terrain — shattered black stone that rose in jagged shelves. Overhead, the Abyss was darker here, no swirling nebulae, no floating lights. Just heavy, oppressive dark that felt close enough to press against Raen's shoulders.

They crested a ridge and the landscape unfurled below: a vast plain littered with broken thrones.

They weren't illusions. Each throne was real — some carved from crystal so dark it seemed to devour light, others from fused bones that clicked together when no wind blew. A few still held tattered banners, scraps of symbols so faded they might have been memories of empires that never existed.

And on some of those thrones lay corpses. Dried, twisted figures in scraps of regal attire, jaws locked in silent howls.

Raen exhaled slowly. "The Labyrinth of Forgotten Thrones."

Ember Vow made a soft sound, almost pitying. "I've heard whispers of this place. It's where would-be sovereigns of the Abyss come to prove they're worthy to shape it. Or to fail, and become part of the scenery."

Raen let his eyes drift across the field. There was no path. No markers. The thrones sprawled in every direction, countless — each one a story of ambition turned to rot.

A sharp laugh scraped out of him, humorless. "So many kings. So few kingdoms."

Hollowfang prowled to the nearest throne, sniffed it, then recoiled with a low growl. Despair Maw lingered behind Raen, head weaving slowly side to side, tasting the air with clicks of hidden teeth.

[System Notice: Major Abyssal Trial Region Entered]

[Trial: Ascendancy Through Remembrance]

[Objective: Confront the Thrones of Past Failures — Integrate or Shatter]

Ember Vow's mouth tightened. "The Abyss does not test power the way mortals do. It tests memory. It forces you to either accept what you are — all of it — or let yourself be consumed by what you refuse to face."

Raen nodded once. "Then we keep moving."

They descended into the field. The ground crunched beneath their boots, brittle as old parchment. Each throne they passed seemed to shiver, as though recognizing Raen, tasting at the edges of his story.

Not all the thrones were silent.

One near the center of a rough clearing cracked open at its base. A figure spilled from it — more a skin than a body, empty eyesockets leaking dark smoke. It crawled toward Raen on all fours, moving awkwardly, head cocked at an impossible angle.

"You carry too many names," it rasped, voice layered with overlapping echoes that didn't quite align. "Who are you to shape us? Who are you to believe you stand apart?"

Raen didn't slow. "I am Raen."

The thing lunged. Before it could close the gap, Hollowfang slammed into it, jaws crushing down on its throat. The creature spasmed, flailing with long, brittle fingers that shattered against Hollowfang's hide.

Raen watched, eyes flat. Memoryweaver didn't flare — it didn't need to. Some memories were too weak to challenge what he'd built.

When the creature stopped twitching, Hollowfang stepped back, muzzle stained with shadowy ichor that steamed off into faint curls.

Ember Vow's hand found Raen's arm again. Her touch was careful, grounding. "Not all of them will be so hollow."

"I know."

They pressed on.

—

Deeper into the field, the thrones grew stranger. One was made entirely of linked hands, each palm gripping the next wrist in a chain that formed the seat and backrest. Another was a tangle of weeping faces locked together, tears frozen in glass rivulets. Each throne seemed to whisper as they passed — broken, half-formed prayers that lapped at Raen's mind like cold water.

At last they came to a throne larger than the rest. Carved from something that looked like fossilized sorrow, the seat was wide enough for two bodies to recline together. Its armrests ended in snarling wolf heads, mouths open as if mid-howl.

A plaque of tarnished silver lay embedded in the ground before it. Ancient script twisted across its surface, rewriting itself even as Raen squinted to read it.

[Throne of Twin Fates]

[Two shall sit, or none. Two shall bind, or both shall be unmade.]

Ember Vow's breath caught. "It… wants us both."

Raen stared at the throne. Memoryweaver pulsed, sending thin shivers up his spine. The weight of shared history pressed on him — everything Ember Vow had become to him since the Abyss first coughed her up as a living curse. Her laughter. Her defiance. Her hands pulling him from dreamless terror more than once.

He extended a hand. "With me."

Her eyes searched his. Whatever she found there seemed enough. She placed her hand in his, fingers cold but sure.

Together they stepped onto the low dais. The air thickened instantly, pressure dropping until it felt like their chests were being crushed. They lowered themselves onto the throne. As soon as they did, lines of pale fire burst from the seams where the throne's pieces joined.

Ember Vow stiffened, nails digging into his palm. Her eyes rolled back for a second. Raen felt something slip through his thoughts — a probing presence that flicked through his memories, testing seams for weakness.

Visions crowded in. The first time he saw Ember Vow — all hunger and contempt, circling him like a snake. The first time she bled for him, when wraiths tried to tear away his soul. The night they sat back to back under the echo of a dead tree, neither speaking, both too battered to offer comfort yet drawing it from nearness alone.

The throne seemed to drink it in. The wolf heads at its arms began to breathe, ribs expanding, eyes igniting with a dim orange glow.

[Shared Bond Integration: Raen & Ember Vow]

[Effect: Dual Sovereign Potential Established — Authority Amplified in Joint Presence]

Raen sucked in a shuddering breath. Ember Vow sagged against him, her head pressing into his shoulder. When she finally lifted her face, her mouth curved into a small, astonished smile.

"We passed."

"For now," Raen rasped. "This place is endless trials."

Her thumb brushed over the back of his hand. "Then it's fortunate neither of us ever learned to surrender."

A low, resonant growl built under the throne. It vibrated through their bodies — not in warning, but as if acknowledging them.

Then the pressure eased. The throne quieted, wolf heads settling. Beyond it, the field of broken seats seemed to part slightly, opening a narrow path that led deeper into the Abyss's gloom.

Raen rose first, helping Ember Vow stand. Their hands lingered together a heartbeat longer than necessary.

"Forward, then," he said.

"Always," she answered.

With Hollowfang prowling ahead and Despair Maw close behind, they left the throne of twin fates behind, stepping into the dark unknown. Somewhere ahead waited new horrors, new courts, perhaps even new gods. But as they moved, Raen felt something different humming in his chest — a fragile promise that whatever they faced, they would face it truly together.