The campfire crackled in the crisp mountain air as Kiran sat cross-legged, the sigil on his wrist glowing faintly. Across from him, Drayk leaned against a rock, arms crossed, watching intently.
"Focus," Drayk said. "The Key isn't just about strength. It's about precision. Control. Right now, you're swinging a warhammer when you need to be weaving a thread."
Kiran exhaled, letting the Key's energy flow through him. The light-blade appeared in his hand, shimmering like molten gold. He extended his focus, trying to reshape it. The blade wavered, flickered, and then shattered into sparks.
"Again," Drayk said, unrelenting.
"It's not as easy as you make it sound," Kiran grumbled, summoning the energy once more.
"It's not supposed to be easy," Drayk countered. "The Key is a conduit. It amplifies what's already in you. If you can't master your own emotions, it will overwhelm you."
Kiran closed his eyes, his breathing steady. This time, he envisioned the light-blade shrinking, reshaping itself. Slowly, it morphed into a thin, elegant rapier. The weight felt different, lighter, but the energy pulsing through it was the same.
Drayk raised an eyebrow. "Better. Now, hold it steady."
Later that evening, as Kiran practiced on his own, Drayk pulled out an old, tattered map. He spread it on the ground and beckoned Kiran over.
"This," Drayk said, pointing to a jagged, star-like symbol etched in the center of the map, "is the origin of the Rift. The First Nexus. It's where the Key was created and where the Riftlords were born."
Kiran studied the map. The First Nexus was located deep within a desolate region marked with warnings and ancient symbols. "What happened there?"
"No one knows for sure," Drayk said. "The legends say it was a place of unimaginable power, a bridge between our world and… something else. When the Rift opened, the Nexus became its heart, and the first Bearers were chosen to guard it."
"And they failed," Kiran said, thinking of the Riftlords.
Drayk nodded. "The Rift didn't just destroy them—it corrupted them. Morvas and the others weren't evil at first. They were heroes, trying to protect the world. But the Rift twists everything it touches. Even the strongest wills couldn't withstand it."
Kiran frowned, his hand unconsciously brushing the glowing sigil on his wrist. "Why didn't they just destroy the Rift?"
"They tried," Drayk said, his voice somber. "But the Rift isn't just a place or a power. It's… alive, in its way. It feeds on ambition, on fear, on desire. Destroying it would mean unraveling everything connected to it—including the Key."
Kiran sat back, processing the information. "If the Key is tied to the Rift, then why give it to someone like me? What's the point?"
Drayk hesitated, then sighed. "The Key chooses its Bearer for a reason, though no one knows exactly how it decides. Some think it's looking for someone strong enough to contain its power. Others believe it's a trap—a way to create new Riftlords when the old ones fall."
"And what do you think?" Kiran asked.
Drayk's gaze was steady. "I think the Key doesn't care about good or evil. It only cares about survival. The question is, will you use it to protect the world or to destroy it?"
Kiran didn't have an answer.
As the night deepened, Kiran's thoughts turned to Morvas. The vision from the shard haunted him—the towering figure, the chains binding the Riftlords, the promise of ending the cycle.
"Morvas said he wants to break free of the Rift," Kiran said, breaking the silence. "But what does that mean? What happens if he succeeds?"
Drayk's expression darkened. "If Morvas is freed, he won't stop with the Rift. He'll use its power to reshape the world—bend it to his will. Whatever you saw in that vision, remember this: Morvas isn't just trying to save himself. He's trying to become something more."
"More?" Kiran echoed.
Drayk's voice was grim. "A god."
The next morning, Kiran's training resumed. Drayk set up a series of challenges designed to push Kiran's limits: deflecting projectiles, maintaining the light-blade while under duress, and channeling the Key's energy into precise, controlled bursts.
At first, Kiran struggled. The Key's energy surged wildly, resisting his attempts to control it. But as the day wore on, he began to find a rhythm. His movements became sharper, his focus more refined.
By sunset, Kiran stood before a boulder, the light-blade in his hand. He closed his eyes, visualizing the energy, and then thrust the blade forward. A thin beam of light shot from the tip, piercing the boulder clean through.
Drayk gave a rare nod of approval. "You're getting there."
Kiran let the blade dissipate, exhaustion washing over him. "What now?"
"Now," Drayk said, pointing to the map, "we head for the First Nexus. If we're going to stop Morvas, we need to understand the Rift's origin—and how to end it."
As they packed up camp, Kiran felt the Key's pull growing stronger. The sigil on his wrist pulsed in time with his heartbeat, a constant reminder of the power he now carried.
"Do you think we'll find answers at the Nexus?" Kiran asked.
Drayk adjusted his pack, his expression unreadable. "Answers, yes. Solutions? That's up to you."
As they set off toward the First Nexus, Kiran couldn't shake the feeling that the Rift was watching, waiting. The journey ahead would test not only his strength but his very soul.
And somewhere in the shadows, Morvas was waiting, his plans unfolding with every step they took.