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The wind carried the scent of burning flesh. It was faint, more memory than reality, but Kaelen Veyr still tightened his grip on the jagged blade at his side. The Ashlands did not forgive hesitation.
He crouched low behind the remains of a shattered wall, its stone surface scorched and warped by some ancient blast.
Before him stretched the remnants of a village, his village—though it no longer deserved that name. The place he had once called home was now a skeleton of its former self, picked clean by scavengers and half-swallowed by the creeping chaos of a nearby Fractured Zone.
Kaelen scanned the ruins. His eyes, sharp from years of surviving the Ashlands, caught faint movement among the debris.
Something was there, lingering in the gutted remains of what had once been a blacksmith's forge. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to remain still, suppressing the urge to charge forward. He'd made that mistake before.
Patience, he reminded himself. The Ashlands rewarded the clever, not the reckless.
The wind shifted, carrying with it a low, guttural growl. Kaelen's stomach twisted, though not from fear. Hunger clawed at him with an intensity that bordered on madness, a gnawing emptiness that had become his constant companion. He had been surviving on scraps for days—roots, dried carrion, even dirt when desperation struck.
But desperation would kill him here.
The growl came again, louder this time, and Kaelen saw it—a hulking figure emerging from the ruins, its form warped and unnatural.
It was a Shatterbeast, a grotesque creature born from the chaos of a nearby Fractured Zone. Its body was a patchwork of jagged bone and rotting flesh, its eyes glowing faintly with the sickly green light of Dominion energy.
Kaelen crouched lower, clutching his blade. He couldn't fight it outright—Shatterbeasts were notoriously resilient, their twisted forms impervious to most conventional weapons. But he wasn't here to fight.
He was here to steal.
The Shatterbeast lumbered forward, its massive claws scraping against the stone. It sniffed the air, its glowing eyes scanning the ruins with a predatory focus. Kaelen waited, his heart pounding against his ribs. He knew the creature's movements well—it was drawn to chaos, feeding on the residual energy left behind by Dominion Shards.
And there was one nearby.
Kaelen had spotted the faint glow of a shard buried beneath the rubble of the blacksmith's forge earlier that morning. He hadn't dared approach then, knowing the Shatterbeast would be close. But now… now it was distracted.
Moving slowly, Kaelen crept around the edge of the ruined wall, keeping low to the ground. The beast's attention was fixed on a pile of debris near the center of the village, where a faint hum of energy pulsed through the air. It snarled and began digging through the rubble with frantic fervor, its claws tearing through stone and wood as though they were paper.
Kaelen used the noise to mask his movements, inching closer to the blacksmith's forge. The shard was there—he could feel its presence, an almost imperceptible vibration in the air that made his skin prickle. Shards had that effect on everything around them, a subtle distortion of reality that could drive weaker minds to madness.
He slipped into the forge, his boots crunching softly against the ash-covered floor. The shard's glow was faint but unmistakable, a dim blue light emanating from beneath a collapsed beam. Kaelen worked quickly, prying the beam loose with his blade and tossing it aside.
There it was.
The shard was small, no larger than a pebble, but its power was palpable. Its surface shimmered with an otherworldly light, shifting between hues of blue and violet. Kaelen reached for it, his fingers trembling—not with fear, but with hunger. The shard pulsed as his hand closed around it, sending a jolt of energy through his arm.
For a moment, he hesitated. He'd heard the stories—how shards could twist those who wielded them, warping their minds and bodies until they were nothing more than puppets of chaos. But what choice did he have?
The Shatterbeast let out a deafening roar, and Kaelen's hesitation vanished.
He tucked the shard into a pouch at his side and bolted from the forge, his heart racing. The beast had sensed him—he could hear its heavy footsteps pounding against the ground as it turned in his direction.
"Damn it," Kaelen muttered, weaving through the ruins. The shard's energy pulsed against his side, its warmth spreading through him like fire. He could feel its power, beckoning him, whispering promises of strength and survival.
But he wasn't stupid enough to use it. Not yet.
The Shatterbeast crashed through the ruins behind him, its guttural growls growing louder. Kaelen didn't look back. He sprinted toward the edge of the village, where the terrain dipped into a series of narrow ravines. If he could reach the ravines, he might be able to lose it.
The beast was faster than he expected. It leaped over a collapsed wall, landing mere feet behind him with a bone-rattling thud. Kaelen dove forward, rolling to avoid its claws as they swiped through the air where he had been moments before.
"Come on," he growled, pushing himself to his feet. The ravines were close—he could see the jagged cliffs rising in the distance. He just needed a little more time.
The shard pulsed again, stronger this time, and Kaelen felt his resolve waver. He could use it. He could unleash its power, turn the tide, and destroy the beast. But what would it cost him?
Another roar shattered his thoughts, and he stumbled, the beast's claws grazing his side. Pain flared, but he forced himself to keep moving, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The ravines loomed closer, their narrow paths twisting like veins through the landscape.
With a final burst of speed, Kaelen threw himself into the nearest ravine, the Shatterbeast skidding to a halt at the edge. It snarled, its glowing eyes watching him with unbridled fury, but it didn't follow. The ravines were too narrow, too unstable for something of its size.
Kaelen collapsed against the jagged stone, clutching his side. Blood seeped through his fingers, but he ignored it. He'd survived.
For now.
The shard pulsed faintly at his side, and Kaelen pulled it from the pouch. Its glow was dimmer now, but its power was still there, humming softly in his hand. He stared at it, his expression unreadable.
"Is this what you wanted?" he muttered, his voice low and bitter. "To make me like them?"
The shard didn't answer, of course. But its glow seemed almost… amused.
Kaelen shoved it back into his pouch and leaned against the rock, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The Ashlands stretched out before him, vast and unforgiving, but he didn't falter.
If the world wanted him broken, it would have to try harder.