Ash pulled him free.
Cregan collapsed beside the ruin's edge, gasping, chest rising in sharp bursts, frost steaming from his cloak and hair. The cold clung to him like a second skin. Ghostclaw pressed close, warmth and weight grounding him to the world. His breath came shallow. The stone beneath his palms pulsed faintly—residual magic, or something older.
Ash knelt beside him, her dragon looming behind like a gargoyle of fire and smoke. "What did it show you?" she asked softly.
He couldn't meet her eyes, not yet. "Everything I never faced. My father's eyes the day he died. My first shift. My worst choices. My mother's last words. And..." He paused. "The name. The Breach's name is Veyros."
At the sound of it, the wind died.
Ash drew back slowly. Her face, always unreadable, cracked just enough to show something—fear or awe. Even her dragon hissed, eyes narrowing. "Then it's worse than we feared," she murmured. "Veyros is not a tear. It's a prison. And it remembers who locked it."
[Questline Updated: Wake the Forgotten]
Travel to the Deadgrove Monolith
Recover the Key of Chains
Bind the Breach again or break it fully
Cregan rose unsteadily, sword steady in hand despite the tremors in his limbs. The vision had changed him. Not visibly, not yet—but the weight of what he'd seen pressed deeper than steel.
Ash stood and walked toward the edge of the ruin, gazing down at the pit where the Breach pulsed. "Do you know what it means?"
He nodded. "Someone locked it. And that someone had Stark blood."
A silence passed.
"The ancient pacts," she whispered. "Before the Wall. Before the First Men named the seasons. There was a House who forged binding magic with oath and blood. The last to do so... paid the price."
Cregan frowned. "The price?"
"They were erased. Not just from history. From memory. From bloodlines." Her voice darkened. "But not fully. You are what was left behind."
[New Trait Unlocked: Heir of the Silent Pact]
Ancient magic stirs in your lineage.
Certain ancient runes and relics now respond to your presence.
They broke camp in silence. The dragon circled above as Ash led them westward, toward the Deadgrove.
That night, Cregan stared into the fire. Ghostclaw dozed beside him, breath slow and even. Ash sat across the flames, still as stone.
"You knew what I'd see," he said.
"I knew something would be waiting. But not Veyros." She glanced toward the sky. "There are things older than the North. Older than Valyria. Some of them were caged. Some weren't."
"And you?" he asked.
She didn't answer immediately. Then, "I was a key once. Then a torch. Now I'm neither. Just a guide."
"Then guide me to the Deadgrove."
She looked up sharply. For the first time, she smiled. Not kindly. But with respect. "You'll need to bleed for it."
"I've bled for less."
[Quest Activated: Test of the Grove]
Face the spirits of the Silent Pact
Claim the Key of Chains
The next morning, they walked beneath dead trees whose roots pulsed faintly with memory. The Deadgrove Monolith rose ahead, wrapped in vines of ironwood, its surface carved in runes Cregan could almost read.
Not yet. But soon.
He placed his hand against the stone. A whisper rose.
"Stark. Warg. Oathborn."
And then the grove stirred, as if the trees remembered his blood.
The trial was only beginning.
And Veyros... was watching.