The faint light of dawn painted the sky in hues of amber and violet as Ryxar Draven approached the edge of the battered village. The air smelled of ash and blood, remnants of the chaos he had left behind. His crimson eyes swept over the smoldering ruins, indifferent to the destruction. Behind him, the Blood Core pulsed faintly, its hum an ever-present reminder of the power coursing through his veins.
At his side, the young woman clutched a torn cloak tightly around her shoulders. Her steps faltered as she avoided debris, her gaze flickering between Ryxar and the devastation. Fear lingered in her eyes, mingled with a growing curiosity.
"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice trembling yet determined.
Ryxar didn't break stride. "Somewhere worth my time."
The woman hesitated, her instincts screaming to run, yet something about him—his presence, his overwhelming confidence—kept her rooted in his shadow. "Why did you… why did you save me?" she ventured, her voice barely audible over the distant crackle of dying flames.
He stopped abruptly, turning to face her. His crimson eyes bored into hers, silencing her with their intensity. "I didn't save you," he said, his voice cold and deliberate. "You were simply there when I decided to act. Don't mistake coincidence for kindness."
Her breath hitched, and she lowered her gaze, swallowing the lump of fear lodged in her throat.
---
The Blood Core whispered to him as they walked, its voice smooth and enticing, like a lover's caress. "You feel it, don't you? The spark of something greater, waiting just beyond your reach. It calls to you, Ryxar. Take it."
Ryxar's lips curled into a smirk. The whispers had been constant since his awakening, their promises of untold power aligning with his own ambitions. He welcomed their presence. They were not a burden but a guide—a reminder of the destiny he would carve.
The woman's voice broke through his thoughts. "Who are you really?" she asked hesitantly.
He glanced at her, the corner of his mouth twitching in faint amusement. "Ryxar Draven. Remember the name. One day, it will mean everything."
---
As they ventured further, the village faded into the distance, replaced by jagged cliffs and dense forests. The air grew colder, sharper, as if the land itself resisted their intrusion.
The woman shivered, pulling her cloak tighter. "This place feels… wrong."
"Good," Ryxar said, his tone calm yet commanding. "That means we're on the right path."
They reached a clearing where the trees parted to reveal a jagged, ancient monolith rising from the earth. Its surface was carved with symbols that pulsed faintly in the dim light. The air around it felt alive, crackling with an unseen force.
The woman stared in awe. "What is this place?"
"A relic," Ryxar replied, stepping closer. "A fragment of something far greater."
The Blood Core thrummed louder, its whispers turning into a roar. "This is your beginning, Ryxar. Embrace it."
He extended his hand, and the crimson orb flared to life, its glow intensifying as it resonated with the monolith. The symbols on the stone responded, their light growing brighter until they blazed with fiery energy.
The woman shielded her eyes, fear gripping her. "What's happening?"
"Power," Ryxar said simply, his voice steady.
The monolith began to tremble, cracks spreading across its surface. A deafening roar echoed through the clearing as the stone shattered, revealing a smaller object at its core—a jagged, obsidian shard pulsating with raw energy.
Ryxar approached it, his movements deliberate. The shard's power called to him, a primal force that resonated with his very soul. He reached out, grasping it without hesitation.
As his fingers closed around the shard, a surge of energy coursed through him, igniting every nerve in his body. The Blood Core pulsed wildly, feeding off the shard's power and amplifying it tenfold. Visions consumed him—empires crumbling, legions bowing, and a throne towering above a sea of the dead.
The woman watched in terrified awe as the energy enveloped Ryxar, his figure illuminated by the crimson glow. She felt her knees weaken, a question trembling on her lips. "What kind of monster have I tied myself to?"
When the light finally subsided, Ryxar stood taller, his presence more commanding than ever. The shard had fused into his palm, its jagged edges forming intricate patterns on his skin. His crimson eyes blazed with renewed intensity, the weight of his power now undeniable.
The woman trembled, unable to look away. "What… what are you becoming?"
Ryxar turned to her, his expression unreadable. "What I was always meant to be," he said, his voice laced with both confidence and menace.
He stepped forward, his shadow stretching long in the dim light. "Mark this moment. It's the beginning of an era—my era."