The cold wind howled through the jagged cliffs of the Drifting Sanctum, carrying whispers from the abyss beyond. The landscape was unforgiving—ashen soil cracked under Kael Veydris' boots as he climbed the uneven terrain, a lone specter moving through the remnants of a place forgotten by the world. Here, the Abyssal Flow was untamed, violent, rejecting those who could not adapt to its rhythm.
Kael had been exiled to this forsaken land when he was ten. The Flowbound Clans deemed his existence unstable, his Void Anchor an anomaly that threatened balance. He had been labeled cursed, abandoned in the wild tides of the abyss. But in the silence of exile, he had learned more about the Abyssal Flow than any scholar or warrior confined to their rigid traditions.
Tonight, something felt different. The currents shifted unnaturally, dense waves of energy vibrating through the air. Kael stopped near an ancient ruin carved into the cliffs—a place where the exiled sought shelter from the chaos. The Flow was speaking to him.
He closed his eyes, letting the surges of energy wash over him. His heartbeat slowed, syncing with the shifting tides. It was instinct now—the only thing that had kept him alive. He had learned to listen to the Abyssal Flow rather than force control over it.
Then the storm came.
A sudden rupture in space tore through the sky, spiraling dark currents outward. Kael staggered, feeling the pressure in his bones. This wasn't natural. He focused, breathing deeply as the Flow around him pulsed in warning. His Void Anchor responded immediately, stabilizing his presence, shaping the currents around him like an extension of his own will.
And then, a voice.
"You are not meant to be here."
Kael's eyes snapped open. The abyss shimmered before him, shifting like a mirage. A figure stood in the distortion—a woman wrapped in flowing energy, her presence warping reality itself.
Alyss Vren.
The Wandering Sage had found him.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" Alyss stepped closer, her gaze piercing through him. "The Abyss isn't just reacting to you anymore. It's calling you."
Kael didn't answer. He could feel it—the pull, the whispers beyond the storm.
"The Sanctuary of Echoes," Alyss murmured. "The Flow is guiding you to something it never reveals to ordinary wielders."
Kael clenched his fists. The Sanctuary was a myth, a place lost to time where the strongest wielders had once gathered. If the Abyss wanted him to find it, it meant his exile was never just punishment—it was preparation.
"You have two choices." Alyss's voice was firm. "Ignore it. Stay here. Wait for the Abyssal Hunters to find you first."
Kael exhaled sharply. He knew Jorin Malvek was coming. The Abyss Hunters had never stopped watching, waiting for him to make a mistake.
"And the other choice?"
Alyss smiled, the Flow around her shifting effortlessly. "We find the Sanctuary. And we uncover the truth they tried to erase."
Kael looked past her, toward the abyss where the currents churned violently.
For the first time since his exile, the path forward was clear.