The aftermath of the battle hung in the air like smoke from a dying fire. The ruined city around them was eerily silent, as though the land itself had exhaled in relief. The dark figure—whatever it had been—was no more, its presence scattered like dust, but Aethren knew it wasn’t the end. He had felt the depths of that darkness, and he could sense that something far larger and more insidious was at work.
The shard’s power still hummed within him, its energy pulsing through his veins, yet there was something different now. It was no longer just a force to be reckoned with; it had become part of him, shaping his thoughts, stirring his will. It was both a gift and a curse, and Aethren could not ignore the growing awareness of its influence on him.
“We should move,” Seris said, her voice a touch too sharp, as if she were already sensing the shift in the atmosphere. “The darkness doesn’t die easily. If that was one of its servants, the master will be coming soon.”
Aethren nodded, but as his gaze swept over the ruined city, a sense of foreboding settled deeper into his chest. He had faced the trials, faced that shadow, and he had triumphed—but at what cost? The shard had granted him power, yes, but it also seemed to leave an impression on his very soul. Was it truly his to command, or was it merely using him as a vessel, bending him to its will?
“I’ll keep the shard under control,” he said, though even he wasn’t sure if he believed the words. His grip on the shard tightened instinctively, as though to reassure himself.
Seris didn’t answer right away, her eyes scanning the horizon, wary of any further threats. Kaelor, ever the skeptic, had little patience for philosophical pondering.
“Well, whatever you’ve done, it worked,” Kaelor grunted, wiping the sweat from his brow. “That thing’s gone. But we’re not out of the woods yet. That was a warm-up, wasn’t it? I don’t like the feeling I’ve got in my gut.”
“You’re not wrong,” Aethren said. His voice was quiet, but his words carried weight. “That was only a fraction of what we’re up against. The darkness is still spreading, and there’s no telling how much worse it will get.”
“I don’t care how much worse it gets.” Kaelor swung his sword, the metal glinting in the pale sunlight. “I’m ready to fight. As long as we don’t get ambushed by another of those things.”
Aethren turned to Seris, who had her hand resting lightly on her sword, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. “What do you think?”
Seris looked at him for a long moment before speaking. “The shard’s awakening is only part of the equation. It will draw attention, both from those who want to control it—and from those who want to destroy it.”
Aethren’s stomach churned at her words. He had known the trials would be difficult, but the weight of this task was beginning to settle heavily on his shoulders. It wasn’t just about mastering the shard anymore. It was about saving the world—or watching it burn.
“I have no doubt that we’ll face worse before we’re done,” Seris continued. “But if you want to truly understand the shard’s power—and whether or not it can help us—there’s something you need to know.”
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Aethren raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
Seris hesitated, then gave a single nod. “There’s an ancient order, long thought lost to time. They’re known as the Wardens. They were tasked with guarding the shards and ensuring that their power didn’t fall into the wrong hands. If anyone knows how to control the shard, it’s them.”
“And where do we find them?” Kaelor asked, crossing his arms. “Or is this another ‘somewhere over the rainbow’ quest?”
“Not exactly,” Seris replied, her tone serious. “The Wardens’ sanctuary is hidden deep within the mountains of Vahliar. It’s said to be an ancient temple, a place where the last of their order still resides. But it’s not easy to reach. The journey is treacherous, and the mountains are guarded by creatures far older and more dangerous than any of us have faced.”
Aethren’s eyes narrowed. The Wardens. The guardians of the very power he had just awakened. It made sense, in a way. If the shard was as important as Seris implied, then there would be others who sought to control it—or destroy it.
“We go to Vahliar,” Aethren said, his voice steady. “The Wardens are the only chance we have to fully understand what the shard can do. If they can help me control it, then it’s worth the risk.”
Seris nodded, but there was something in her gaze—something guarded, as though she were not revealing everything. “There’s one thing you should know, Aethren. Not all Wardens are allies. Some may still see you as a threat.”
“Great,” Kaelor muttered. “Another group to keep our eyes on. Can’t say I’m looking forward to meeting more power-hungry maniacs.”
“I’ll be ready,” Aethren said firmly. “Let’s move out. We don’t have time to waste.”
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The journey toward Vahliar took them through terrain that grew more rugged with each passing day. The weather was unpredictable, shifting from scorching heat to biting cold in a matter of hours. But it wasn’t the harshness of the environment that weighed most heavily on Aethren’s mind—it was the power of the shard. The closer they got to the mountains, the more palpable the pressure became.
It was as if the shard was aware of the journey ahead, and it was restless, eager to be put to use. But Aethren had learned to be cautious. He kept it close, but only let its power surface when absolutely necessary.
They encountered no more of the dark creatures that had plagued the ruined city, but that didn’t bring Aethren any relief. The silence was deafening, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike.
On the third day of their journey, as they neared the base of the Vahliar Mountains, they camped in a narrow valley sheltered by jagged cliffs. Aethren sat by the fire, staring into the flames, his thoughts swirling.
“What if the Wardens can’t help us?” he said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else.
Seris, who had been sharpening her blade nearby, paused and looked at him. “Then we do what we must. But we don’t have the luxury of doubt, Aethren. If we don’t gain control of the shard soon, we’ll be consumed by it—just like those who came before.”
Aethren didn’t reply immediately. He knew what Seris was saying was true. The shard’s power was vast, and with each passing day, its influence grew stronger, more invasive. He could feel it, like a whisper in the back of his mind, urging him to use it—to unleash it.
“I’ll be ready,” Aethren said again, though this time, the words felt less certain.
Seris stood and packed her things. “Good. We leave at dawn. The Wardens’ temple is not far now.”
As Aethren watched her prepare, he couldn’t help but wonder what awaited them in the mountains—and what price they would have to pay to gain control of the shard.
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The next morning, the air was colder than it had been in days. Aethren and his companions made their way through the rocky pass, the mountain slopes growing steeper as they ascended. The path was treacherous, with loose stones and narrow ledges. But Aethren barely noticed. His focus was on the shard, still pulsing with power, and on the mountain ahead.
A shadow passed over them. Aethren looked up, but there was nothing in the sky.
Nothing... but he could feel it.