Kaelin leaned against the base of the monolith, his chest heaving as the adrenaline of the battle ebbed away. The shard's hum echoed faintly in his chest, its presence now an inseparable part of him. The clearing, once alive with light and energy, was now eerily quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.
The monolith's runes had dimmed, their shifting patterns now static, as though the shard's removal had silenced its purpose. Kaelin stared at the towering stone, his mind heavy with unanswered questions. The guardian's words replayed in his mind: "Prove yourself, or be consumed by the light you seek."
Prove himself to whom? To what? The Forge? The multiverse? The fragments of his own broken soul?
Kaelin exhaled sharply, shaking his head. The answers wouldn't come from dwelling on the past. He pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the ache in his muscles, and turned his gaze toward the forest. The shard's pull had ceased, but the unease in the air remained. He couldn't linger here—not when the shadows were still out there, waiting for him to falter.
The journey back to the village was slower this time, each step a reminder of the toll the battle had taken. The forest seemed quieter, more subdued, as though the shard's removal had sapped some of its vitality. Kaelin's sword rested at his side, its glow dim but constant, a steady companion in the stillness.
As he approached the edge of the village, he noticed a figure waiting for him near the square. Jorin stood with his arms crossed, his lantern at his feet, its light casting long shadows across the cobblestones. The innkeeper's expression was grim, but there was a flicker of relief in his eyes as he spotted Kaelin.
"You're alive," Jorin said, his voice tinged with surprise.
"Disappointed?" Kaelin quipped, though his tone lacked its usual bite.
Jorin snorted, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "Not quite. I take it you found what you were looking for?"
Kaelin nodded, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword. "The shard's power is secure—for now."
Jorin's gaze lingered on the blade, his brow furrowing. "What happens now? Does it just… stay with you?"
Kaelin hesitated, the weight of the shard pressing against his thoughts. "It's part of me now," he said finally. "And as long as it is, the things that hunt it will come."
Jorin's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "Then you'll be leaving soon."
Kaelin's lips curled into a faint, bitter smile. "It's safer for everyone if I do."
The innkeeper studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded. "I'll make sure the villagers know. They've been on edge since… whatever that was last night."
Kaelin glanced toward the scorched cobblestones in the square, the memory of the shadowy figure's attack still fresh in his mind. "They should be on edge," he said quietly. "This isn't over."
Jorin's eyes narrowed. "You mean the shard?"
"I mean everything," Kaelin said, his voice low. "The Forge, the shards, the multiverse—none of it's stable. The cracks are already showing, and unless someone pieces it back together…"
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
The room in the inn felt smaller now, its walls closing in as Kaelin sat on the edge of the bed. The shard's energy thrummed in his chest, a constant reminder of its presence. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting to the guardian's final moments, the explosion of light and the searing heat of its defeat.
The shards weren't just fragments of power—they were pieces of a story, a legacy older than any world Kaelin had walked. Each one carried its own history, its own weight, and with each shard he claimed, Kaelin felt that weight pressing heavier on his soul.
He opened his eyes and reached for his sword, running his fingers along the edge of the blade. The weapon was no longer just steel and craftsmanship; it was something more now, a vessel for the shards' energy, a connection to the Forge itself. But what that connection meant, Kaelin still didn't fully understand.
His thoughts were interrupted by a faint knock at the door. Kaelin straightened, his hand moving instinctively to the hilt of his sword. "Come in."
The door creaked open, and Eron peeked inside, his wide eyes cautious but curious. "You're back," the boy said, stepping into the room.
Kaelin nodded, his expression softening slightly. "I am."
Eron approached slowly, his gaze flicking to the sword resting against the wall. "Did you fight another monster?"
Kaelin's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Something like that."
The boy's eyes sparkled with a mixture of awe and fear. "And you won?"
Kaelin nodded. "This time."
Eron frowned, his small hands twisting nervously. "Will there be more?"
Kaelin hesitated, his jaw tightening. "There always are."
The boy was silent for a moment before speaking again. "Why do you keep fighting?"
Kaelin looked at him, his gaze thoughtful. "Because someone has to," he said quietly. "And because if I don't, who will?"
Eron nodded slowly, his expression solemn. "You're brave."
Kaelin chuckled softly, the sound low and bitter. "Not brave," he said. "Just stubborn."
The boy lingered for a moment longer before turning to leave. At the door, he glanced back, his eyes wide with an innocent determination that made Kaelin's chest ache. "I hope you win," Eron said softly. "Every time."
Kaelin didn't respond. He watched as the boy slipped out, the door clicking shut behind him. The room fell silent once more, the hum of the shard the only sound.
Kaelin leaned back against the wall, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The path ahead was uncertain, the weight of his burden heavy, but Eron's words stayed with him.
"I hope you win."
Kaelin closed his eyes, the shard's light pulsing faintly in his chest. Winning wasn't guaranteed, but as long as the Forge called to him, he would answer.