Chapter 9:
The air was thick with tension as the group emerged from the hermit's hut. The glow of the relic had dimmed slightly, but its steady pulse now seemed to resonate with Ashen's heartbeat, a constant reminder of the power he had reclaimed.
"We'll need to move quickly," the hermit warned, their voice grave. "The trial has awakened more than just your strength. It has sent ripples through the ether, and Malthor's forces will sense them."
Ashen tightened his grip on the relic. "Let them come. I won't run from him anymore."
Lira stepped forward, her bow slung over her shoulder. "We'll fight if we have to, but we can't risk being overwhelmed. If Malthor knows you're regaining power, he'll send his strongest to stop you."
Caelum's hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "She's right. We need to stay ahead of them."
The hermit nodded. "There is a sanctuary to the north, hidden within the Shardspire Peaks. It was once a refuge for the divine—if any remnants of your past allies remain, they may still linger there."
Ashen's jaw tightened. The idea of revisiting a place tied so closely to his old life sent a chill down his spine. But he knew there was no other choice.
"Then we go to the peaks," he said firmly.
---
The journey was grueling. The forest gave way to rocky terrain, the air growing colder with each step. The group moved swiftly, their senses on high alert for any sign of pursuit.
It wasn't long before they found it.
The first sign was the faint hum of dark energy in the air, an oppressive weight that made every breath feel heavier. Then came the faint glow of corrupted sigils etched into the rocks, their twisted designs pulsing with malevolence.
"We're being watched," Lira said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ashen's hand went to his sword. "How many?"
She closed her eyes, her senses sharpening. "One… no, two. No, wait—there's something bigger."
A low growl echoed through the canyon, and the group froze. From the shadows emerged a creature that seemed to embody the void itself. Its massive form was draped in dark, writhing tendrils, its glowing red eyes fixed on Ashen. Behind it, two armored figures stepped forward, their weapons drawn and their faces obscured by helmets marked with Malthor's sigil.
"The Herald of Malthor," Caelum murmured, his face pale.
Ashen narrowed his eyes. "It's here for me."
The creature roared, its voice shaking the very ground. The two soldiers flanked it, their movements unnaturally fluid, as if guided by an unseen force.
"You dare to awaken the relic," one of the soldiers said, their voice hollow and distorted. "Malthor has foreseen your return, Azrael. He will not allow it."
Ashen stepped forward, drawing his sword. The relic in his satchel began to glow, its light pushing back against the suffocating darkness. "If Malthor fears me, then he should come himself."
The Herald surged forward, its tendrils lashing out with terrifying speed. Ashen barely had time to raise his sword, the impact of the attack sending him skidding back.
Lira and Caelum sprang into action. Lira loosed a volley of arrows, each one striking true but barely slowing the creature. Caelum charged one of the soldiers, his blade clashing against theirs in a flurry of sparks.
Ashen focused on the Herald, the relic's power flowing through him. He could feel the energy coursing in his veins, a mix of light and heat that seemed to respond to his will.
He raised his sword, channeling the energy into a blinding strike that severed one of the Herald's tendrils. The creature shrieked in pain, its form flickering like a shadow caught in the sun.
"You're stronger than before," the second soldier hissed, lunging at Ashen with a dagger wreathed in dark fire.
Ashen parried, their blades locking. "And I'm only getting started."
With a surge of strength, he pushed the soldier back and unleashed another burst of energy, sending them crashing into a boulder.
But the Herald was relentless. It reared back, its tendrils converging into a single massive appendage that slammed into the ground with enough force to send shockwaves rippling through the canyon.
Ashen braced himself, but the impact sent him to his knees. The relic's glow flickered, and for a moment, doubt crept into his mind.
"Focus, Ashen!" Lira shouted, firing an arrow that pierced the Herald's side. "We can't hold it off forever!"
Ashen closed his eyes, centering himself. He could feel the relic's energy, a steady pulse that seemed to match his heartbeat. He had faced his shadow and reclaimed his resolve—now, he needed to trust in his strength.
Opening his eyes, he rose to his feet, the relic's light flaring to life once more. He raised his sword, and the energy within him surged, forming a barrier of radiant light that pushed back the Herald's darkness.
With a roar, he charged forward, his blade cutting through the creature's tendrils with ease. The Herald shrieked, its form unraveling as the light consumed it.
The two soldiers faltered, their movements growing sluggish. Caelum seized the opportunity, disarming one with a swift strike and forcing the other to retreat.
As the Herald disintegrated, its essence dissolving into the air, the oppressive darkness lifted.
The canyon grew silent once more, save for the sound of the wind.
Lira lowered her bow, her breaths coming in short gasps. "Is it… over?"
Ashen looked at the spot where the Herald had stood, his grip on his sword relaxing. "For now."
Caelum sheathed his weapon, his expression grim. "They'll send more. Malthor won't stop until you're dead—or worse."
Ashen nodded, his gaze hardening. "Then we'll be ready. Whatever it takes."
He turned his attention to the relic, its glow steady and strong. The fight had proven one thing: he wasn't alone anymore.
But in the distance, a dark figure watched from the shadows, its eyes glowing with an eerie light. The Herald was only the beginning.