The wraiths surged like a tide of darkness, their forms twisting and writhing as they poured from the ruins. Claws of shadow slashed at the air, and crimson eyes burned with malevolent hunger.
Aleron moved first, his blade cutting a radiant arc as he stepped forward. The enchanted steel hummed with power, each strike leaving trails of light that tore through the wraiths like fire through dry grass.
"Hold the line!" he commanded.
Kael's heart raced as the sigil on his palm blazed to life. His sword clashed with the nearest wraith, and for a moment, he felt the pull of the Void—its hunger, its endless craving for power. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay grounded.
"Not today," he whispered through gritted teeth.
The wraith shrieked as Kael's blade, imbued with his reluctant power, cleaved through its center. Darkness exploded outward, and the creature dissolved into nothingness.
Seraphina stood at his side, flames dancing in her hands as she hurled fire into the mass of enemies. "Kael, focus! The fragment is calling to you—I can feel it. Find it!"
He nodded, pushing deeper into the fray.
Aidan loosed arrows with deadly precision, each one enchanted to pierce the dark. "We can't keep this up forever!"
"We don't need forever," Aleron replied, parrying another strike. His sword flared as he drove it through a wraith's heart. "Kael will find the fragment. We hold them until then."
Kael's vision blurred as he moved toward the epicenter of the darkness. A deep, rhythmic pulse echoed in his mind, pulling him forward like a siren's call. The fragment was close—he could feel its power, raw and ancient, as if it had always been a part of him.
He reached a shattered archway where shadows writhed like living things. Beyond it lay a pedestal of obsidian, atop which rested a shard of crystalline darkness. The fragment seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat, a piece of eternity trapped within its depths.
Kael stretched out his hand. The sigil burned, reacting to the fragment's presence. As his fingers closed around it, the world tilted—darkness surged into him, cold and overwhelming, a torrent of memories and voices not his own.
"Kael!" Seraphina's voice cut through the storm.
He gasped as power flooded his veins. The fragment's essence was both terrible and magnificent—a force that threatened to consume him, a whisper of endless possibility and ruin.
"Control it," he muttered, his voice shaking. "It's mine to command."
The wraiths howled as the fragment's light flared. A shockwave of power erupted from Kael, sweeping through the ruins and obliterating the remaining creatures in a burst of searing energy.
When the light faded, silence fell over the ruins.
Kael stood, breathing heavily, the fragment clutched in his hand. The sigil on his palm had changed—its lines more intricate, its glow darker.
Aleron approached cautiously, his eyes filled with both concern and curiosity. "You did it."
Kael's voice was low, almost a whisper. "This is only the beginning."