The Abyss-Touched Mage

The underground corridors stretched ahead in winding paths, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows along the damp stone. The air was thick, carrying the scent of aged earth and something older—something unspoken.
Raine walked in silence, his footsteps muffled against the uneven ground. He didn't trust the man leading him deeper into the tunnels, but right now, trust wasn't an option. Survival was.
They had left the city hours ago, slipping into the underground network beneath Vaelora without a word to anyone. The Weaving Society—whatever it truly was—operated from here, out of sight of the Arcanum's reach. Raine had seen glimpses of the organization's influence: quiet movements in the shadows, the way even bounty hunters hesitated when Kael appeared.
Kael.
That was the name the man had finally given him before they descended below the streets.
Raine exhaled, gripping his forearm where the bruises from his last fight still lingered. He didn't know what Kael wanted from him—only that this man had saved his life twice now. And that made him even harder to trust.
The passage widened into a cavernous chamber, its ceiling high enough that the torchlight barely reached the top. Stone walkways split off into different tunnels, some leading further into the unknown. Strange carvings lined the walls, faded with age, their meanings lost to time.
Kael stopped near a worn wooden table, motioning for Raine to do the same.
"This is where you ask the obvious question," Kael murmured.
Raine studied him warily. "Which one?"
Kael's lips twitched. "Why I brought you here."
Raine crossed his arms. "I figured you'd tell me when you felt like it."
Kael exhaled through his nose, something like approval flashing in his dark eyes. He pulled something from his coat and tossed it onto the table. The small metal insignia clattered against the wood.
Raine stared at it.
It was the same symbol Kael had shown him before—a hollow ring, encircled by thin etchings.
"Is this supposed to mean something?" Raine asked.
Kael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he traced a finger over the emblem's surface. "This was worn by someone like you."

Raine stiffened. "Like me?"
"Abyss-Touched." The words came quietly, but they settled into Raine's chest like stone.
The bounty hunter had called him that in the forest. Now, Kael was saying it again—as if it explained everything.
But it didn't.
Raine clenched his jaw. "And what does that actually mean?"
Kael studied him for a moment. "You don't draw from the Realms like Weavers do. Your power doesn't align with the Arcanum's teachings. It doesn't fit."
Raine's pulse quickened.
Kael leaned against the table, his voice low. "And when something doesn't fit, the Arcanum removes it."
Raine looked away, his thoughts spinning. He had known the Arcanum was hunting him. That was obvious. But hearing it framed like this—as if he was an error that needed correcting—made his stomach twist.
Kael continued, "Every few generations, someone like you appears. Someone who disrupts." His gaze darkened. "And every time, the Arcanum ensures they never make it far enough to understand why."
Raine swallowed, forcing down the unease creeping up his spine. "Then why are you different? Why did you help me?"
Kael's expression remained unreadable. "Because I've seen what happens when no one does."
Silence stretched between them.
Raine exhaled slowly. He wanted to ask more—what had happened to the others? How many were there before him? But he knew Kael wouldn't give him all the answers at once.
Instead, he looked at the insignia again, running a thumb over its worn surface. "So, what now?" he asked. "I just disappear underground and join your hidden society?"
Kael smirked faintly. "That depends."
"On what?"
"On whether you survive."
Raine narrowed his eyes. "Survive what?"
Kael turned toward one of the branching tunnels. "Come with me."
Raine hesitated, then followed.
The next chamber was smaller, more enclosed. No markings on the walls this time—just rows of old bookshelves and a single, circular pit in the center of the floor.
Kael stopped at the edge of the pit.
"Jump."
Raine blinked. "What?"
Kael crossed his arms. "You want to understand what you are? What makes you different?" He motioned toward the pit. "Then you start by facing it."
Raine peered over the edge. The darkness below was complete, swallowing the torchlight before it could reveal anything.
Something about it felt… wrong.
Like the air itself bent around it, recoiling.
He swallowed. "What's down there?"
Kael didn't answer.
Of course he didn't.
Raine exhaled sharply, his fingers curling into fists. He could walk away. He could turn back, find another way, leave Kael and the Weaving Society behind.
But if he did—what then?
The Arcanum would still be hunting him.
And he would still have no answers.
Raine clenched his jaw.
Then, before he could change his mind—
He stepped forward.
And fell.
The darkness swallowed him whole