The shard pulsed in Kaelen's hand as he left the Hall of Ash, its faint glow barely visible beneath the layers of smoke and shadows. Drevan Skorn's words echoed in his mind, coiling like a serpent around his thoughts.
"Your shard is no mere trinket. It carries with it a purpose, a will. Those who seek it are not the kind you want to cross."
The night felt colder now, the weight of the shard heavier in his palm. He had come looking for answers, but all he'd found were more questions. What purpose could a shard hold? And why did it feel like the shard was waiting—for him, for something else?
The Shatterbeast padded silently behind him, its claws clicking softly against the uneven stone streets of Bastion Draeth. It moved with a predator's grace, its glowing green eyes scanning the dark corners of the city.
Kaelen tightened his grip on the shard. He needed to think, to plan, but the unease gnawing at the back of his mind refused to settle. Every shadow seemed sharper, every sound louder. It wasn't just paranoia—he could feel it now, a presence lingering at the edges of his perception.
Something was watching him.
---
Kaelen slipped into the narrow alley where he had hidden earlier, the broken shack still standing like a forgotten corpse. The door creaked as he pushed it open, the faint scent of mildew clinging to the air.
The Shatterbeast settled near the entrance, its hulking frame blocking most of the doorway. Kaelen didn't have to tell it to keep watch—it seemed to sense the tension in the air as much as he did.
He sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, pulling the shard from his pocket. Its glow bathed the small room in a dim, shifting light, casting long, flickering shadows on the walls.
"Talk to me," Kaelen muttered, staring into the shard's depths.
The whispers returned, soft at first, like the faint rustle of leaves in the wind. But as Kaelen focused, they grew louder, sharper, forming fragments of words that he could almost understand.
"Paths... converge..."
"The chains... will break..."
"He waits... beneath..."
Kaelen's brow furrowed. "Who waits? Beneath what?"
The shard pulsed violently, and Kaelen gasped as the room around him seemed to warp. The walls twisted, the shadows stretched unnaturally, and the air grew thick with a heavy, electric tension.
And then he was somewhere else.
---
The void was silent.
Kaelen stood on a surface that wasn't stone or earth but something smooth and black, like polished glass. The air was cold, sharp, and still, with no breeze or sound to break the oppressive silence.
Above him, the sky stretched endlessly, fractured by lines of golden light that pulsed like veins. Each pulse sent a shiver through the ground beneath his feet, as if the world itself was alive.
"Not again," Kaelen muttered, his voice barely audible in the void.
He clutched the shard tightly, its glow dim but steady. The whispers were gone now, replaced by a deafening stillness that made his skin crawl.
A figure emerged from the darkness, its form blurred and indistinct. It was tall, humanoid, but its edges shimmered and twisted like smoke caught in a strong wind. Its eyes burned with a golden light, and its voice resonated through the void like the tolling of a bell.
"You carry the burden of Will," the figure said, its tone neither warm nor hostile. "Do you understand its weight?"
Kaelen frowned, his grip tightening on the shard. "I don't understand any of this," he admitted. "What are you? What is this shard?"
The figure stepped closer, its movements slow and deliberate. "I am a fragment, nothing more. A shadow of what once was. As is your shard."
Kaelen's pulse quickened. "A fragment of what?"
The figure tilted its head, the golden light in its eyes dimming. "The truth lies beneath. Beneath the ash, beneath the chains. Will you seek it?"
Kaelen took a step back, his heart pounding. "I don't even know what I'm looking for."
"You will," the figure said. "The shard has chosen you. But choice is not without consequence."
The void trembled, the golden veins above them pulsing faster. The figure's form began to blur, its edges dissolving into smoke.
"Wait!" Kaelen called, his voice echoing. "What does it want from me?"
The figure paused, its golden eyes flickering. "To free what lies bound," it said. "To awaken the Dominion. But beware—awakening the truth will not save you. It will consume you."
The figure vanished, and the void shattered like glass.
---
Kaelen woke with a start, his chest heaving as his vision adjusted to the dim light of the shack. The shard was still in his hand, its glow pulsing faintly, as if mocking him.
"What the hell are you?" Kaelen whispered, his voice hoarse.
The Shatterbeast growled softly, its glowing eyes watching him from the doorway. Kaelen rubbed his temples, the figure's words replaying in his mind. To awaken the Dominion. To free what lies bound.
He didn't know what it meant, not fully. But one thing was clear: the shard wasn't just a tool or a weapon. It was a key—a key to something ancient and powerful, something that had been buried beneath the Ashlands for centuries.
Kaelen's thoughts were interrupted by a faint sound outside the shack. He froze, his hand moving instinctively to the shard as the Shatterbeast let out a low, warning growl.
The sound came again—soft, rhythmic, like footsteps on loose gravel.
Kaelen rose slowly, his muscles tense. He moved to the doorway, the shard's glow dimming as he slipped it into his pocket.
The footsteps stopped.
Kaelen narrowed his eyes, scanning the darkness beyond the doorway. The street was empty, the faint light of the fires casting flickering shadows across the broken ground.
"Who's there?" Kaelen called, his voice sharp.
There was no response.
The Shatterbeast growled again, its massive frame shifting uneasily. Kaelen stepped outside, his hand resting on the hilt of his broken dagger.
And then he saw it.
At the far end of the street, just beyond the reach of the firelight, stood a figure. It was cloaked in shadows, its features hidden beneath a hood that seemed to swallow the light. But its presence was undeniable—a weight that pressed against Kaelen's chest like a physical force.
The figure raised a hand, and Kaelen felt the shard pulse violently in his pocket.
"You carry a heavy burden," the figure said, its voice deep and hollow. "The question is—will it break you?"
Kaelen's breath caught in his throat. He didn't know who—or what—this figure was. But the shard's reaction told him one thing:
It wasn't here to help.