Caelum awoke in a place that seemed to exist outside of time—a vast, endless expanse of swirling blackness and shifting shadows. He could feel the shards still within him, but they no longer radiated warmth. Instead, they felt cold and distant, as though the Shadow King's influence had begun to seep into every fiber of his being.
"You're awake," a voice said from the darkness. Caelum spun around, but he could see no one.
"It's not real," Caelum whispered to himself, trying to focus his mind. He refused to believe that the Shadow King had already won.
"Of course, it's real," the voice answered, almost amused. "You are here, aren't you?"
Suddenly, the shadows coalesced into a figure—a woman, clad in tattered robes, her face obscured by a veil. Her eyes, when they appeared, were glowing with an unnatural light.
"You…" Caelum's breath caught in his throat. "You were part of the council, weren't you?"
The woman's eyes flickered with recognition. "I was... once. But I am no longer bound to the will of the council or the Shadow King. I am the keeper of forgotten truths. And you, Caelum, have yet to learn the greatest one."
"Tell me what's happening," Caelum demanded. "I need to get back. My friends..."
"You cannot return until you understand," the woman said softly, her voice like a song in the wind. "The shards are not merely artifacts of power. They are keys to a much older force, one that can either save or destroy this world."
She gestured to the darkness surrounding them. "What you face is not a battle of armies or might. It is a war of souls, and you, Caelum, have already made your choice."
"What choice?" he asked, though deep down, he feared he already knew the answer.
"The moment you picked up the cursed sword," she said, "you gave away part of your soul. But you can still reclaim it. All it takes is the will to break the chains that bind you."
Caelum clenched his fists, the weight of the woman's words sinking in. The cursed sword was not just a weapon—it was a prison. And he had willingly walked into it.