Kaelen sat next to the fire, hands quivering as he looked down at the smoldering ember in the heart of the flame. Every inch of his body was achy, and his head ached with the feeling that it could no longer recall the sharpness it once possessed. The stone lay there next to him on a bit of rough cloth, still pulsating faintly, casting strange shadows across his hands as its glow danced through them. His chest felt tight, the sharp pain lingering there like a warning he couldn't silence. He could not tell how long he had sat by the fire. His thoughts seemed adrift, unhitched from the smooth tracks of his thoughts. Again and again, he returned to that moment-the tug of power, the hallucinations, the grating, screeching sound as stone seemed to shift within its mind. His dreams were always strange, but this? This was no dream.
It was.
He had touched it on. Somehow, by his caress and his terror, he had wakened this old, old thing, this relic lying in the soil. He breathed quicker now, feeling the ember of the fire alive, too hot. His hands were not still. His body throbbed with pain. The air seemed evil as if the earth would never lie silent again.
But before he could spin into a panic, a noise came out of the woods.
At first soft, it was just a whisper, a rustle that could almost be inaudible. Kaelen froze, and his hand went for the knife. His whole body tautened, every one of his nerves tense to breaking point. His heart thudded as he tensed his ears. And then came the sound.
Footsteps. Intentional, purposeful. Steady.
Kaelen's throat was dust, his chest closing up again. He should have gotten to his feet, but he couldn't. Something about it was too close, whoever it was scavenger, hunter, worse. His hand floated inches above the stone.
The footsteps appeared.
Kaelen has the figure step out from behind the mist. She was a tall, lithe thing of darkness and shadow, all that hair falling in rippling waves to frame her face. Around her neck,k she wore that great cloak of black and gray, her features sharp with power, eyes piercing beyond them in the fire-glow. She looked too modern, too out-of-time, and her stride had been slow, steady as she approached the edge of the fire.
Before Kaelen could react, she spoke.
"I see you've found it."
Her voice was sharp, low, and certain. Her tone sent a chill through Kaelen's spine, as though she had pried the thoughts from his head itself.
Kaelen's breath hitched. "Who are you?" he managed to croak, his voice hoarse. They saw a knife in his hand.
A soft glow illuminated her eyes in the afterglow as she smiled lightly. "A friend, for now," she said, voice weighing with secrets and certainty of truths far more ancient than Kaelen had known. She took a step closer, cloak billowing back around her in the faint wind that crept through the clearing. "But I am no mere wanderer. I am Elara, Keeper of Ashara.".
Kaelen stared at her. Her name sent a jolt through him. The name felt familiar, even though he didn't know why. "Keepers of Ashara?" he managed to ask.
Her smile grew, though it was faint, cold, and distant. "You've awakened it," she said simply, gesturing to the stone. She took a step closer, her eyes focused on Kaelen's trembling hands. "You've felt its pull."
Kaelen's breath hitched again, the stone cold in his hand, its glow faint but steady. His voice cracked
Elara sighed, her voice steady and calm. "The Heart of Ashara.
Kaelen froze. The air around him froze as he stopped breathing and the breath caught in his throat. His fingers tightened a little more on the stone. "What… what are you talking about?"
She took a step closer, and her eyes did not even blink. "This stone you hold has a name, The Heart of Ashara. And it's been buried; it's been forgotten and hidden from those who would try to use its power. But you've found it. Maybe it called to you, or maybe you called to it; it doesn't matter. The point is this: you've woken something old, and now it's got your blood.".
Kaelen blinked. The words dropped into his mind like stoninnto a pond. His body trembled. "No. I didn't I didn't mean to"
"Oh, no one ever means to," she interrupted, her voice silky as the windless air around them. "But now the relic is awake. It chose you. And with it comes great power. You can wield it, destroy it, or succumb to its pull. Those are your choices."
Kaelen's heart seemed to stop. He breathed fast, shallowly. His head felt like it was swimming trying to wrap his brain around what was said. The Keeper's presence filled the air, pushing down on his thoughts.
"Why are you here?" Kaelen asked, a little unsteadily, though not expecting to have the words come out.
"To stop what you've started," she replied plainly. Her gaze narrowed as her cloak shifted in the firelight. "The Heart isn't just an artifact. It holds the essence of Ashara, the ancient goddess whose death gave it its power. Aeron knows this. Aeron seeks to harness its magic for himself."
Kaelen's breath caught. He'd heard the name before, a whispered rumor from his dreams, but now it felt miles more real and far more perilous.
"Aeron?" he asked, his voice shaking.
Yes, Elara said, low. Your uncle. He is following this course, thinking that bringing Ashara back into the world will bring peace. But peace shall not be found in the resurrection, Kaelen. Aeron has become some kind of monster. He will not stop at any cost in wielding this power, seeing his vision in its entirety come to pass. But his vision shall only bring about ruin.
He gazed upon her, trying to make meaning of the name. His uncle. The figure from his dreams, the shadow that formed in his visions, the pull that tugged within.
"Your blood runs through his veins, Kaelen," Elara continues, "and now you must decide: will you wield the Heart's power, destroy it, or give in to its pull?
Kaelen's hands shook harder still. His body shivered. His vision blurred.
" Indecisive. "I didn't want this."
"No one ever does," Elara said. She moved closer, her voice dropping to an icy tone. "But destiny does not wait for anyone. You must decide soon."
The fire crackled and spat embers into the air. Kaelen stared at Elara, unsure, overwhelmed. His head spun. His body ached. Everything seemed to be sliding as if the weight of truth and inevitability pressed down on him.
"What if I can't choose?" he whispered.
Elara's gaze was sharp as she gazed at him. "Then the choice will choose you."
She turned and went back into the mist, the silhouette vanishing with the wane of the fire.
Kaelen looked at the stone.
The decision hung there.
And he had no notion of how to reach a decision.