The tunnels swallowed Caden in an oppressive silence. He sprinted down the narrow passage, his lungs burning and his heart pounding as he clutched the shard in his hand. The faint glow from the fragment cast eerie shadows on the damp walls, its pulse erratic, like a heartbeat struggling to find its rhythm.
Behind him, Garrick's voice rang out, sharp and commanding, the sound of his arcane magic crackling through the air. The clash of energy and steel echoed through the tunnels, mixing with the shouts of the pursuing Reclaimers. Caden's feet faltered, his instincts screaming to turn back, but Garrick's final words drove him forward:
"Don't stop moving."
The passage twisted and turned, the air growing colder as he plunged deeper into the labyrinth. The shard's glow illuminated strange carvings on the walls—symbols that seemed to shift and writhe when he looked at them too long. The oppressive weight of the fragment's power pressed against him, whispering at the edge of his mind.
[Warning: Fragment instability detected. User health compromised.]
Caden stumbled to a halt, leaning against the wall as he gasped for air. His head swam, and the fragment's energy flared, tugging at his thoughts with a dark, insistent pull. He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to focus.
Not now, he thought. Not here.
The sound of footsteps reached him—soft but deliberate, growing closer. Caden's chest tightened, his grip on the shard firming as he pressed himself against the wall. The footsteps stopped just around the corner, and a figure stepped into view.
It wasn't Garrick.
The man was tall and lean, his face obscured by a hood. A glint of steel caught the shard's faint light as he drew a dagger, his movements slow and deliberate. His gaze locked onto Caden, sharp and predatory.
"There you are," the man said, his voice low and cold. "Hand over the fragment, boy, and I might let you live."
Caden's heart raced. His mind screamed for him to flee, but the passage was narrow, and the man blocked his only way forward. His fingers curled tighter around the shard, its energy humming against his skin.
"I don't think so," Caden said, his voice steadier than he felt.
The man smirked. "Suit yourself."
He lunged.
The shard flared in Caden's hand, its power surging through him in a wave of heat and light. Instinct took over, and he thrust the fragment forward, releasing a pulse of energy that exploded outward, slamming into the man and sending him crashing into the wall.
The glow faded, and Caden staggered, the shard's energy leaving him weak and disoriented. The man groaned, struggling to rise, but Caden didn't wait. He bolted down the passage, the shard's pulse growing faint as he focused on putting as much distance as possible between himself and the encounter.
After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel opened into a larger chamber. The air here was damp and still, and faint shafts of light filtered in through cracks in the ceiling. He stopped, his chest heaving, and scanned the room for another exit.
"Caden!" Garrick's voice cut through the silence, rough and strained.
Caden turned, relief flooding him as he saw Garrick limping into the chamber, his staff glowing faintly with residual energy. But his relief was short-lived—Garrick's left arm hung awkwardly at his side, and blood stained the sleeve of his cloak.
"You're hurt!" Caden exclaimed, rushing to his side.
"I'm fine," Garrick said through gritted teeth, though his pallor betrayed the pain etched into his features. "It's just a scratch."
Caden glanced at the deep gash running along Garrick's arm and the faint scorch marks on his cloak. "That's not a scratch."
Garrick waved him off, leaning heavily on his staff. "We don't have time to argue. Are they still behind you?"
"I think I lost them," Caden said, though uncertainty lingered in his voice. "But one of them found me back there. He… I used the shard."
Garrick's gaze sharpened. "And?"
"It worked," Caden admitted, swallowing hard. "But it… it took something out of me. I don't know how much more I can use it."
Garrick nodded, his expression grim. "That's the danger of fragments. They give power, but they take just as much—if not more."
A faint noise echoed from the tunnel behind them, the sound of boots striking stone. Garrick's grip on his staff tightened, and he motioned for Caden to move.
"This way," he said, guiding him toward a narrow passage on the far side of the chamber. "We're close to the surface. If we can get above ground, we'll have a better chance of losing them."
They hurried through the passage, the walls pressing closer as the air grew colder. Caden's legs burned, his breaths coming in sharp gasps, but he forced himself to keep moving, the shard's faint pulse a steady rhythm against his palm.
Finally, the tunnel sloped upward, and a faint glimmer of light appeared ahead. Garrick stumbled, his injured arm brushing the wall for support, but he pushed forward with grim determination.
They emerged into the open air, the pale morning light filtering through the dense canopy of trees. The forest beyond Aramore stretched before them, its shadows deep and inviting. Garrick collapsed against a nearby tree, his breaths ragged.
Caden knelt beside him, his own exhaustion catching up with him. "What now?" he asked, his voice trembling.
Garrick looked at him, his expression weary but resolute. "We keep moving. But first, we rest."
He reached into his satchel, pulling out a small vial of dark liquid. He handed it to Caden, his hand shaking slightly. "Drink this. It'll help with the shard's toll."
Caden hesitated, then took the vial and swallowed its contents. The liquid burned as it went down, but a faint warmth spread through his limbs, easing the ache in his muscles.
"What about you?" he asked, glancing at Garrick's wounded arm.
"I've had worse," Garrick said with a faint smirk, though his face was pale. "But I'll need time to recover. That fight back there wasn't kind to me."
Caden frowned, guilt gnawing at him. "You wouldn't have gotten hurt if it wasn't for me."
"This isn't your fault," Garrick said firmly. "The Reclaimers are after the fragment, not you. You're just caught in the storm."
Caden nodded, though the weight of responsibility still pressed heavily on his chest. He glanced at the shard in his hand, its faint glow reflecting the uncertainty in his mind.
The dangers ahead were growing, and Garrick's injury was a stark reminder of the cost of their journey. But as he looked out at the forest, a spark of determination lit within him.
He wouldn't let Garrick's sacrifice be in vain. Whatever the fragments held—whatever secrets they carried—he would uncover the truth.
And he would survive.