The silence that followed Calder's fall was deafening. The faint hum of the shattered shard fragments was the only sound in the square, but to Eryndor, it was like a drumbeat in his chest. The ember within him had transformed, no longer a fragile flicker but a roaring flame, fueled by the sight of his father lying motionless on the ground.
Varik took a step toward him, the faint smirk on his lips as sharp as a blade. "You've already lost," he said, his voice calm and cruel. "What's one more failure in a world like this?"
Eryndor's grip on his blade tightened. The whispers of the shard fragments grew louder, their energy coiling around him like tendrils of light. He didn't know how or why, but he felt them responding to him—felt their power surging through his body, raw and untamed.
"You're wrong," Eryndor said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "This isn't over."
Varik tilted his head, intrigued. "Interesting. You think you can defy me?"
"I don't think," Eryndor said, stepping forward. "I know."
The shards scattered across the square began to glow brighter, their fractured edges shimmering like embers in the dark. Eryndor could feel their energy connecting with the flame in his chest, the two forces merging into something greater.
Varik raised his hand, dark energy crackling around his fingers. "You're no match for me, boy," he said, unleashing a blast of energy that tore through the air toward Eryndor.
But this time, Eryndor didn't flinch. The shards around him pulsed in unison, forming a barrier of light that absorbed the attack. The energy rippled outward, pushing Varik back a step.
"What—?" Varik's expression twisted in frustration as he raised both hands, channeling more power. "Impossible!"
Eryndor charged.
The ground beneath him seemed to tremble as he moved, each step igniting the shards around him. His blade, now glowing with the shard's energy, felt weightless in his hand. He swung it with precision, aiming for Varik's barrier.
The collision sent a shockwave through the square, the light of the shards clashing with the dark energy of Varik's shield. For a moment, it seemed like neither would give way—but then Eryndor felt the ember within him surge, and the barrier shattered.
Varik staggered, his composure faltering as Eryndor pressed the attack. The young boy's strikes were relentless, each one fueled by the memory of Calder's sacrifice and the villagers who were counting on him.
"You don't get to win," Eryndor shouted, his voice filled with raw emotion. "Not after everything you've done!"
Varik's frustration turned to desperation. He unleashed a torrent of energy, the ground cracking beneath the force of his attacks, but Eryndor was faster. The shards around him moved as if they were alive, their light weaving a protective barrier that absorbed each strike.
"You think you can defeat me?!" Varik roared, his voice echoing across the square. "I am power itself!"
"You're nothing but a thief," Eryndor shot back, his blade finding its mark. The strike tore through Varik's cloak, sending him reeling.
Varik's eyes burned with rage as he gathered the last of his energy, forming a massive orb of dark power between his hands. The orb crackled with malevolence, its edges distorting the air around it.
"This ends now!" Varik shouted, hurling the orb directly at Eryndor.
Eryndor's instincts took over. The shards pulsed around him, their light merging into a single point at the tip of his blade. He raised the weapon, channeling the energy into a concentrated beam that met Varik's attack head-on.
The clash of forces was blinding. Light and dark collided in a maelstrom of energy, the impact shaking the very ground. Eryndor gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body straining as he pushed back against Varik's overwhelming power.
For a moment, it seemed like the darkness would win. But then Eryndor thought of Calder—of his father's strength, his sacrifice, and the lessons he'd taught him.
With a roar, Eryndor poured everything he had into the blade. The shards responded, their light flaring brighter than ever before. The beam of energy surged forward, cutting through Varik's attack and striking him full force.
When the light faded, Varik lay crumpled on the ground, his cloak in tatters and his body motionless. The oppressive weight of his presence lifted, leaving the square in an eerie silence.
Eryndor fell to his knees, his strength utterly spent. The shards around him dimmed, their glow fading until they were nothing more than faintly shimmering fragments.
The villagers began to emerge from their hiding places, their faces etched with awe and disbelief. Arin was the first to approach, his hand resting on Eryndor's shoulder. "You did it," he said, his voice quiet but filled with pride. "You saved us."
Eryndor didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on Calder, who still lay motionless in the center of the square.
"Father," he whispered, stumbling toward him.
He dropped to his knees beside Calder, his hands trembling as he reached out. "Please," he said, his voice breaking. "Please wake up."
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Calder let out a ragged breath, his eyes fluttering open.
"Eryn?" Calder's voice was weak, but it was enough to make Eryndor's heart leap.
"I'm here," Eryndor said, tears streaming down his face. "You're going to be okay."
Calder managed a faint smile, his hand resting on Eryndor's. "You... did good, son. Real good."
Eryndor nodded, his chest tight with a mixture of relief and sorrow. He had won, but the cost was a reminder of just how much they had to lose.
As the villagers gathered around, the shard's faint hum returned, its energy diminished but still alive. And though Brindlemark had weathered the storm, Eryndor knew this was only the beginning.
The flame in his chest burned brighter now, a beacon of resolve. He had faced the darkness and survived, but the road ahead was long—and he was ready for it.