The first villager lunged, their distorted limbs moving unnaturally fast.
Kaelen sidestepped, instincts kicking in as he grabbed a broken piece of wood from the ground. He barely had time to brace himself as another figure surged forward, its face stretching and twisting like molten wax.
The wood splintered in his hands as he swung it, striking the creature across the chest. It stumbled back, but only for a moment. The figures pressed closer, their movements jerky yet deliberate, like puppets pulled by unseen strings.
This isn't real, Kaelen told himself. But the sharp edge of terror gnawed at his thoughts. It feels real enough.
"Prove your resolve," the booming voice repeated, echoing through the warped village.
Kaelen's gaze flicked to the shard on the pedestal, its glow pulsing steadily, as if it were watching him. The whispers returned, faint and insistent, threading through his thoughts like needles.
Take it.
It will end this.
Or you will.
"Shut up," he hissed under his breath.
He ducked another attack, the air whistling as clawed hands swiped past his face. His legs burned with effort as he pivoted, using the fractured remains of a table to block another attacker. The figures didn't stop, didn't tire. Their glowing eyes burned with relentless hunger, their misshapen forms growing more monstrous with each passing moment.
One of them—a towering figure with arms stretched unnaturally long—lunged forward, wrapping its hands around Kaelen's makeshift shield. With a sickening crunch, the table splintered, sending shards of wood flying. Kaelen stumbled back, his chest heaving, his pulse pounding like a war drum.
"You're not real," he spat, glaring at the figures. But they didn't react. They just kept advancing, their blank expressions twisting into grotesque mockeries of human faces.
Kaelen's eyes darted to the shard again. Its glow seemed brighter now, its hum louder, vibrating in his chest. The weight of its presence was suffocating, pressing down on him like a living thing.
"Damn it," he muttered. He didn't want to touch it, didn't want to give in. But what choice did he have?
The figures closed in, their movements synchronized now, like a single entity acting through many bodies. Kaelen gritted his teeth, his hand clenching around the remains of his broken weapon.
A memory surfaced, unbidden: his sister's laughter, bright and carefree. The sound of her voice as she called his name.
The guilt hit him like a blow to the chest. He'd failed her once. He couldn't fail again.
With a roar, Kaelen surged forward, his body moving before his mind could catch up. He ducked under one attacker's claws, spun past another, and sprinted toward the pedestal. The shard's glow intensified with every step, its hum rising to a deafening crescendo.
"Take it!" the voice thundered.
Kaelen reached out, his hand closing around the shard.
---
The moment he touched it, the world shattered.
Light erupted from the shard, flooding the warped village with blinding brilliance. The figures screamed—high-pitched, ear-splitting wails that made Kaelen's knees buckle. He fell to the ground, clutching the shard tightly as the light consumed everything.
When the light faded, the village was gone.
Kaelen found himself standing in the obsidian void again, the reflective surface beneath his feet rippling like water. The shard pulsed in his hand, its glow dimmer now but still alive.
"You have taken the first step," the voice said, softer this time.
Kaelen turned to see the blurred figure from before, its golden eyes fixed on him. There was something different about it now—something sharper, more defined. Its edges no longer blurred and shifted, and its voice carried a weight that made Kaelen's skin crawl.
"Who are you?" he demanded, his grip tightening around the shard.
"I am what remains," the figure said simply. "A fragment of the Primordial Will. A sliver of a greater whole."
Kaelen frowned. "What do you want from me?"
The figure tilted its head, the golden light in its eyes flickering. "It is not what I want. It is what you want. Power. Purpose. Survival. You seek to change a world that refuses to change itself."
Kaelen's jaw tightened. The figure wasn't wrong, but hearing it spoken aloud sent a spike of unease through him. "And what's the price?" he asked.
The figure smiled—or at least, Kaelen thought it did. Its form shimmered slightly, the golden light in its eyes dimming. "Every shard has a cost," it said. "But the cost is not fixed. It is shaped by the one who wields it."
Before Kaelen could respond, the shard in his hand began to burn. He gasped, dropping it, but the shard didn't fall. It hovered in front of him, spinning slowly as its light shifted from blue to violet and back again.
"This is the shard of Will," the figure said, its voice low and resonant. "It will bend others to your desires, strengthen your resolve, and shield your mind from corruption. But it will also test you. Doubt, hesitation, and fear will erode its power. Use it wisely—or it will consume you."
Kaelen stared at the shard, his heart pounding. He had spent years hating shard-wielders, blaming them for the destruction of his village, for the chaos that had swallowed the world. And now here he was, holding one of those very shards.
He reached out, his hand trembling as he closed his fingers around it. The shard pulsed in response, its glow sinking into his skin like liquid light.
The figure nodded. "Your resolve has been tested—and you have not faltered. For now, you are worthy."
Kaelen opened his mouth to speak, but the void shattered around him, and he was falling again.
---
Kaelen woke with a gasp, his body aching as he sat up. The ravine walls loomed around him, jagged and unyielding. The Dominion Spire still stood in the clearing, its glow faint but steady.
The shard was in his hand, its light dim but alive.
Kaelen stared at it for a long moment, his thoughts racing. He could feel its presence now, faint but insistent, like a second heartbeat in his chest. The whispers had gone silent, replaced by a quiet hum that thrummed in the back of his mind.
For the first time in weeks, he felt something other than hunger.
He felt power.
Kaelen pushed himself to his feet, his grip on the shard tightening. The Ashlands stretched out before him, vast and unforgiving. But now, for the first time, Kaelen felt like he had a chance.
Whatever the cost, he would pay it.
The Ashlands would not break him.