Soulbound
The shard dissolved, leaving a thin scar of black across his palm — as though it had branded him.
> The Soulbound were never destroyed, the Vault whispered. They were folded into the Vein. Sleeping. Remembering.
His pulse thundered. “And now one has woken.”
> Two, the voice corrected.
The temperature plummeted. The whispering shards dimmed, one by one, until the Vault was nearly pitch-black.
Soreth turned slowly — and there, at the far end of the corridor, stood a shape. Not quite a person. Not quite a shadow.
Bab Populer