The ruins of the Expanse lay quiet, save for the sounds of distant winds tearing through broken stone arches. Kael stood at the center of the desolation, his sword drawn, facing the figure he had once trusted above all others. His mentor, Eryndor, was barely recognizable, his form twisted by the Heart's corruption. His once-clear eyes burned with a dark fire, and his voice, so familiar, now carried an edge of alien malice.
"Why didn't you stop, Master?" Kael's voice cracked, his resolve wavering as the memories of their shared past flooded his mind. "You were supposed to protect this world, not destroy it."
Eryndor's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Protect it? Foolish boy. The Heart isn't some tool to safeguard this world—it's the only means to shape it. I sacrificed everything to gain its power, and now, you stand there pretending to understand what that means?"
Kael clenched his fists around the hilt of his blade. He had heard whispers of the Heart's influence, how it preyed on ambition and despair, twisting its bearers into something monstrous. But to see it consume someone like Eryndor, a man he had once idolized, was more than he could bear.
"You're wrong!" Kael shouted, stepping forward. "The Heart doesn't give power—it takes it. It devours everything until there's nothing left."
Eryndor raised his blade, the edges glowing with dark energy. "Then prove me wrong, Kael. Show me that your conviction is stronger than the power I now wield."
Their clash was immediate and violent. Kael's strikes were swift and precise, honed by years of training under the very man he now fought. But Eryndor's movements were sharper, faster, as if the Heart had amplified every skill he had ever possessed. Their blades danced in the dying light, each blow shaking the ground beneath them.
Kael felt the weight of every strike reverberate through his arms. It wasn't just the physical strength of his mentor that overwhelmed him; it was the sheer presence of the Heart's power, a malevolent force pressing down on his spirit.
Eryndor's voice cut through the air like a blade. "You think you're different, Kael? That you can resist the Heart's influence? You're already marked, boy. It's only a matter of time."
Kael's heart pounded in his chest. He had felt the Heart's pull before—its whispers of power, its promises of control. But he had fought it, pushed it away, clung to the ideals that Eryndor himself had once taught him. Now, those ideals felt like fragile remnants, barely holding him together.
The battle raged on, and for every strike Kael delivered, Eryndor countered with twice the force. Kael's mind raced as he searched for an opening, a way to break through the darkness that had consumed his mentor. But as the minutes stretched into an eternity, he began to realize the painful truth: there might be no saving Eryndor.