The room remained suspended in unnatural stillness. Cairon's pulse raced, but his body wouldn't obey. His mind screamed for action, but the Herald's grip on space held him like a vice. Even the shard, now pulsing even fiercer, seemed detached from everything else ,unable to cut through the suffocating stillness.
The tavern's air grew heavier as the Herald stepped forward, its glass-like eyes shimmering faintly in the misty light. Cairon stood his ground, his hand instinctively moving to the shard beneath his coat. The pulsing rhythm of the shard softened, not as if afraid, but as though greeting an equal.
The Herald paused a few steps away, its silhouette coming into sharper focus. It was tall, unnervingly so, and its form seemed to blend seamlessly between physical and intangible. Where the mist curled around its edges, faint streaks of light outlined a lean, humanoid figure cloaked in undulating shadows.
When it spoke, its voice was like the rush of a distant tide, calm yet overwhelming.
"Sir Cairon I presume ," the Herald began, its tone measured, almost... curious. "I must admit, it is rare to meet one whose presence bends the streams so boldly. Even rarer, for one to wield what you carry without a toll ."
Cairon narrowed his eyes, masking his unease. "You know what this is."
The Herald tilted its head slightly, as if studying him. "I do." A faint chuckle escaped its form. "That is a privilege granted to few. You and I, perhaps, stand among them."
The shard pulsed faintly at those words, an unspoken acknowledgment.
"What the hell does it even mean ?" Cairon questioned internally,
"If I may ask What do you want?" Cairon demanded, his voice firm but cautious.
The Herald took a single step closer, its movement impossibly smooth. "Want?" it repeated, a flicker of amusement in its tone. "You mistake me for one of your petty seekers of power. I have no 'wants.' I am merely... here."
Cairon's jaw tightened. "Then why come for me?"
"Come for you?" The Herald leaned slightly forward, its shimmering eyes locking onto his. "Oh, dear Cairon, I did not 'come for' you. I was called. Drawn, like a moth to flame—or perhaps, like a guardian to its charge."
"Guardian?" Cairon repeated, his skepticism cutting through the tension.
"Let us say," the Herald began, a faint smile curling across its shadowed face, "that I am here to... observe. To ensure the currents do not twist too far astray. And you, Cairon, stand at the confluence of many streams. Your choices ripple far beyond what you see."
The shard thrummed sharply, as if in warning—or agreement.
Cairon's fists clenched. "I don't understand any of the things you keep on saying,If you're here to preach riddles, I have no time for you.
Just answer me , what do you want from me?"
"Ah," the Herald said, raising a long, mist-wreathed hand in a gesture of calm. "Impatience. Such a human trait. But very well, I will indulge you."
It leaned slightly closer, its voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "The shard you carry—it is no mere relic, no simple artifact. It is alive, as much as you or I. And like all living things, it can interact with the world ,even influence it to some extent."
Cairon's breath hitched, but he kept his expression steady. "Influence the world?"
"Streams," the Herald said simply. "Life; Time ; Memory ; Shadows ; Space, any concept can have a stream . And that shard you're hiding behind your vest, It drinks from the flow, not to destroy but to sustain itself—and be a part of it . But be warned: such a bond is not without... consequence."
Cairon hesitated, the shard pulsing faintly beneath his touch. "And What kind of consequence?"
The Herald chuckled softly. "Ah, now that is for you to discover. After all, the answers would mean little without the search."
Cairon glared at the Herald, his patience wearing thin. "Enough cryptic answers. Just cut to the chase. "
"Very well," the Herald replied, its tone shifting to something almost instructive. "I merely observe and watch over the stream around these parts , you are somehow worthy and show connection to the stream , I won't stop you for now , I will offer you this: Seek more information regarding The Venerable Abmazda . It will guide you to the truth behind the shard—and the forces it might have already set into motion."
The shard pulsed again, more insistently this time, as if it recognized the term.
"And where do I find these information?" Cairon pressed.
The Herald's smile widened, a glimmer of mischief in its glass-like eyes. "That, I leave to you. The path will reveal itself in time—if you are worthy enough to see it."
"Oh and you can start by talking to that shard that you have , that mischievous little thing is keeping quiet for fun. "
Cairon taken back , freezed , " This thing can think and communicate?"
"And I've been keeping it so close to me without even knowing what it is?"
Panicking , Cairon took it out and held it in his hand.
He looked up again , " Why are you giving me this information? Why are you helping me?"
The Herald straightened, its presence growing more imposing. "Help? No, Cairon. I do not help. I watch. Guide. Shape. What you do with my words is entirely your choice. But know this: the streams move whether you will it or not. Better to learn their rhythm than to drown beneath their currents."
For a moment, silence filled the tavern. Even the mist seemed to hold its breath.
Then, with an elegant bow, the Herald began to retreat, its form dissolving into the swirling fog. "Have been holding the stream for too long , hope we meet again, Cairon," it said, its voice fading like a receding tide. "The shard is now your burden, but also your opportunity and compass. Follow it well — or be swept away."
The mist thinned, and the room seemed to exhale, the tension lifting. Cairon stood rooted in place, his thoughts racing.
The shard pulsed one last time, its rhythm steady and strong.
"The Venerable Abmazda ," he muttered to himself, the Herald's words lingering like an echo.
Whatever this was, Cairon now knew one thing: He has stepped into a world of mystics and one different from all the current known knowledge.