The Ashlands stretched endlessly before Kaelen, a broken expanse of shifting dunes and jagged stone. The horizon was painted in hues of gray and black, the sky choked with ash clouds that swirled like living things. Every gust of wind carried with it the scent of decay, a reminder that nothing in the Ashlands lived for long.
Kaelen trudged forward, his boots crunching against loose gravel. The Shatterbeast followed a few steps behind, its massive frame casting an imposing shadow across the desolate landscape. Its glowing green eyes scanned their surroundings, its growls low and constant, like a distant thunderstorm.
The shard in Kaelen's pocket pulsed faintly, a quiet rhythm that matched his own heartbeat. Its presence was a constant weight in his mind, its whispers just barely audible at the edges of his thoughts. He had tried to ignore them, but the shard's influence was impossible to deny.
It had saved him, twice now. First from the Shatterbeast, then from the shard-hunters. But Kaelen couldn't shake the feeling that the shard was as much a curse as it was a blessing.
Every shard has a cost.
The figure's words from the trial echoed in his mind. Kaelen's jaw tightened as he glanced at the beast behind him. Was it loyalty he had earned, or submission forced by the shard's power?
He shook the thought away, focusing instead on the horizon. He needed shelter, food, and a plan—and for that, he needed to find a Bastion.
---
The sun—or what passed for it—was sinking below the horizon by the time Kaelen spotted the first signs of civilization.
It was faint at first: a flicker of light against the distant hills, barely visible through the haze of ash. But as Kaelen drew closer, the lights grew brighter, and he could make out the jagged silhouette of a Bastion.
This one wasn't like Solarith, with its towering spires and polished stone walls. It was smaller, cruder—a collection of haphazardly constructed buildings surrounded by a makeshift barricade of rusted metal and sharpened stakes.
Bastion Draeth.
Kaelen's stomach churned at the sight. He had passed through Draeth once before, years ago, while traveling with his sister. Even then, it had been a harsh, unfriendly place—a haven for smugglers, mercenaries, and shard-traders.
Now, it looked worse. The barricades were scorched and crumbling in places, and the lights that flickered from within cast long, eerie shadows across the ash-covered ground.
The Shatterbeast growled softly as they approached, its glowing eyes narrowing. Kaelen raised a hand to calm it, his gaze scanning the walls for signs of movement.
A guard appeared atop the barricade, his silhouette framed by the flickering light of a nearby torch. He was a lean, wiry man with a scarred face and a crossbow slung over his shoulder.
"Halt!" the guard called, his voice rough and hoarse. "State your business!"
Kaelen stopped a few paces from the gate, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his broken dagger. "I'm looking for shelter," he said, his tone even.
The guard's gaze shifted to the Shatterbeast behind Kaelen, and his hand moved instinctively to his crossbow. "That thing with you?"
Kaelen's heart quickened, but he kept his expression neutral. "It won't be a problem," he said.
The guard snorted. "That's what they all say. And then we're cleaning blood off the walls."
He stepped back, gesturing to someone out of sight. A moment later, the gate creaked open just wide enough for Kaelen to enter.
"Any trouble, and you're both dead," the guard warned, his crossbow still trained on the Shatterbeast.
Kaelen nodded and stepped through the gate, the beast following closely behind.
---
Inside, the Bastion was even worse than Kaelen remembered. The streets were narrow and crowded, lined with ramshackle buildings that leaned precariously against one another. Fires burned in makeshift pits, their smoke mingling with the ever-present ash in the air.
The people here were just as rough as the Bastion itself—scavengers and traders with hard eyes and quick tempers. They gave Kaelen a wide berth as he passed, their gazes flicking nervously to the Shatterbeast at his side.
Kaelen kept his head down, moving quickly through the narrow streets. He didn't have any coin, but that didn't matter in Draeth. Here, everything had a price—if you were willing to pay it in blood.
He ducked into a dimly lit tavern, the stench of stale ale and sweat hitting him like a wall. The room was filled with low murmurs and the occasional burst of raucous laughter, but the noise died quickly as Kaelen stepped inside.
All eyes turned to him and the beast that followed.
Kaelen ignored the stares, making his way to the bar. The barkeep was a heavyset man with a face like weathered stone. He raised an eyebrow as Kaelen approached, his gaze lingering on the Shatterbeast.
"Can't say I've seen one of those in here before," the barkeep said, his voice low and gravelly.
"First time for everything," Kaelen replied, pulling the shard from his pocket. He placed it on the bar, its faint glow catching the barkeep's eye. "I'm looking for information. This enough to get your attention?"
The barkeep's eyes narrowed, but he didn't reach for the shard. "Depends on what you're asking."
Kaelen leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I need to know about the shard-hunters."
The barkeep frowned, his gaze flicking to the shard before returning to Kaelen. "Shard-hunters don't usually come out this far," he said. "What makes you think they're here?"
"I ran into a pair of them earlier today," Kaelen said. "They were looking for me."
The barkeep's expression darkened. "If shard-hunters are after you, you've got bigger problems than this place."
Kaelen's hand tightened around the shard. "What kind of problems?"
The barkeep hesitated, glancing around the room. "There's been rumors," he said finally. "Bastions getting raided. Entire scavenger groups disappearing overnight. People say the shard-hunters are working for something bigger."
Kaelen frowned. "Bigger how?"
The barkeep shook his head. "Don't know. Don't want to know. But if they're after you, you must've found something important."
Kaelen's chest tightened as his gaze dropped to the shard. He had thought it was just another fragment of power, no different from the countless others scattered across the Ashlands. But if it was drawing the attention of shard-hunters, maybe he'd underestimated it.
"Thanks," Kaelen said, pocketing the shard.
The barkeep grunted. "One more thing," he said, his voice low. "If you're planning on staying here, you better watch your back. Draeth isn't kind to people with things worth taking."
Kaelen nodded, his gaze hardening. "Good thing I don't plan on staying long."
He turned and left the tavern, the whispers of the shard already returning to the edges of his mind.