Crimson Ascension

Helvan always spoke of bridges as if they were a common thing in the Haven. They were usually built of wood, some from stone, all small structures that narrowed the gaps between small streams and gushing rivers. Draven had seen those before on the way to Varn'Kess, but he never imagined they could span hundreds of paces like the one he was on.

Instead of stone, rusted metal formed its structure. Long pillars rose high in the air, bound by many ropes that also appeared to be made of the same material. It had to be the proud work of ancient arcane magic.

Far below, the water ran black. Dead. Though that assumption was quickly disabused as long, sinuous forms—hexbeasts, no doubt—swam under the surface. The black ground was cracked underneath his feet, but the surroundings were in even worse shape. Dozens of carriages made of decayed metal and broken glass stood frozen, abandoned in time.

They must have had some sort of magic to build all this. Draven mused while he shattered and remade his Unbreakable Veil. They must have been powerful. Had to be. Wasn't that enough to stop the Sha'Vitri?

He gazes inside the bag, witnessing the glow of runes. Elevalein's presence was comforting, but he wished to be alone to study the artifact. The man might be his brother, they might share the same blood, yet that wasn't enough to make trust sprout from dry soil.

"Go ahead." Elevalein nodded to the bag. "If you're worried about that little secret, don't bother. I already know it."

"What?" Draven stuttered.

"No need to play dumb, Draven. That day in Anaverith… I glimpsed some of your memories through the shoddy shield you had around your soul," Elevalein said, wincing at events. "I saw you drawing runes through your eyes, yet they remained obscured from me."

"You… knew." Draven swallowed hard. "All this time."

"That I did, among other things." Elevalein unsheathed his sword and then started polishing it with an oiled cloth. "There aren't many people who can hide from my sight—when I'm in control, that is. Surely you've heard."

Draven had not. He had been busy tracking down Calandor in a petty attempt to avenge some of the wrongs that had derailed his life, so finding out about Elevalein fell into the background. The knowledge that he had a living brother only reminded him of the one he had lost. Still, he nodded.

"I wasn't sure the rumors were true," Draven lied through a serious face. "They all sounded ridiculous."

"Some are true, others aren't. All touch one wounds I don't needlessly open." Elevalein shook his head. "But trust begets trust, or so they say. And you're my brother, so that has to count for something. If you're the man I saw in the soul search, then I wouldn't mind sharing."

"What kind of man is that?" Draven frowned. It felt weird to know someone had seen through his memories. Invasive.

"Someone who powers through immense amounts of pain to save those he cares about." Elevalein sheathed the sword, looking him in the eye. "But I take it you failed."

The words stung him more than he cared to admit. Failed. Failure. A few days ago, Draven might have leaped at the man, unleashing his bottled-up fury and frustration on someone who had nothing to do with the fate of his family. Now, he only sighed.

"Yeah. All that training was for nothing." He was finally ready to talk about the feeling in his heart. "I lost them. First father, then Dan and Mom, then Myra. But the worst of all was, he knew about it. He knew it and did nothing."

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"You don't mean…" Elevalein's eyes widened.

"Will, or Korvax, whatever he called himself. He knew, Elevalein. He knew they would die. He saw what I would go through, what sort of things my family—his family—would go through, but he never even lifted a finger to stop it." Draven punched the ground, shattering it while leaving his skin untouched. "What use if seeing the future if you can't do shit to change it?"

"I wouldn't be so sure about it." Elevalein smiled. Sadness filled his face alongside resignation and remorse. "Seeing events from a single perspective rarely translates to an accurate representation of the truth. I learned that firsthand."

"What do you mean?" Draven asked.

"Take you, for example. The first time I saw you, I was sure you were some sort of spy." Elevalein chuckled. "That might be the truth, but it lacked all the meaning behind it. Why did you infiltrate them? Why were you a Witness of the Beyond? Why were you with the man that killed my father—your father?"

"He didn't have a choice," Draven spoke, finding himself defending Corvanis. The realization hit him then. "Neither did father."

"Neither did I!" Elevalein threw his hands in the air. "They call me Elevalein the Thrice Heightened, the second most talented Evoker after the Maker himself, gifted son of Korvax von Astrais. But I chose none of it. None!"

"Thrice Heightened…" It was the first time Draven heard about it.

"That's right. I was born a triplet with two other brothers, the lucky one to come out of the womb first." Elevalein's face twisted in disgust. "Our beloved father used my brother, fed them to me so I could become stronger. Why? What could possibly be worth doing that to your sons?"

The revelation stunned Draven. The two Specters had resembled their living master, but he never could have guessed the truth was so sickening. To do that to your own family. Why, Dad? Living with undead reminders of his father's decision must eat Elevalein from the inside out.

"Father was strong, Draven. Too abyss-damned strong. I might have been a talented Evoker, but he had decades of amassed power over me, so I bided my time. I shut up, lowered my head, and trained." Elevalein spoke with a raging fire in his eyes. "I wouldn't just ask him why. That wouldn't get me the truth. No, I would rip the truth out of his soul."

"The day I became a Greater Reverence, I went after him. It was too late. He was already gone. It was as if he knew I was coming." The Evoker winced. "He probably did. And I still don't know why. Didn't know. Until I met you, that is."

"Well, sorry to break it to you, but I don't know any better than you. Father might have had his reasons, but they don't really matter to me anymore." Draven took the remnant out of the bag. "I will get stronger, Elevalein. Strong enough so that what happened to my family never happens again."

Elevalein squinted his eyes, scrutinizing the cube for a few seconds before looking away.

"But I wouldn't mind having you along. That's up to you, though. Just be warned, the big man himself put a bounty on my head, so staying is not wise—"

"If I learned anything, brother, it's that Korvax's sons are anything but wise." Elevalein stood up, still averting his gaze from the runes. "I'll take the next watch, otherwise that Finn fellow might nag me to death."

A warmth filled his spirit as he heard Elevalein stepping into the night. They might not know each other for long, but Draven felt an intrinsic draw towards the Evoker—a sense of familiarity that made trusting him easier. It almost felt like family. Almost.

He didn't dwell on the thought for long. In front of him lay the key to unlocking the mysteries of runes, a pathway to power only a few people in the entire history of the Haven have ever trod. It was a chance at mastering power that allowed him to face two Lesser Eminences while at Greater Reverence, to mend wounds that most Menders would pale at the sight.

If he wanted to stop miners from being used as catalysts, he'd need more than just Empyrean strength. If he wished to stop the dark prophecy of the Haven falling to ruin, he would need to learn it, to master it to an extent that none of the other Archons had ever achieved.

Not even the Maker.

The price of power, as Draven had come to know, was pain. He had long ago accepted it, embraced it, and used it as fuel to drive his strength beyond known limits. The shadow of a smile took over his lips as he remembered what his father used to say.

"Can only change things if you take risks, Aiden," Draven muttered.