The blinding light faded as quickly as it had come, leaving Aethren gasping for air. He blinked rapidly, the clearing swimming into view. The monstrous wolf was gone, replaced by silence so profound it felt oppressive.
The shard in his hand was cool now, but its light pulsed faintly, as if alive. Aethren’s breath came in shallow bursts, his mind racing to make sense of what had just happened.
“You handled that better than most,” the hooded man remarked, sheathing his glowing blade.
“What just happened?” Aethren demanded, clutching the shard tightly. “Where did the wolf go? What is this thing?”
The man chuckled, the sound low and dry. “That wolf was a fragment of the Abyss, a scout. It came for the shard—and for you.”
“For me?” Aethren’s voice wavered. “I’m just a farmer’s son. You’ve got the wrong person.”
The man’s golden eyes narrowed. “The shard chose you. That is no accident. Whether you believe it or not, the Abyss won’t stop until it devours everything you hold dear. You can either rise to meet your fate or let it destroy you.”
Aethren stared at the shard, its soft glow illuminating his trembling fingers. Deep down, something stirred—a feeling he couldn’t name but couldn’t deny.
“What are you?” he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man hesitated before answering. “A guide, of sorts. You may call me Kaelor. My purpose is to ensure the Key—you—reach the Nexus before the Abyss consumes this world.”
“The Nexus?” Aethren’s head spun. “None of this makes sense!”
“It will,” Kaelor said, his tone firm. “But not if you stay here. The shard awakened a power within you, and the Abyss will sense it. If you remain in Wynthall, you’ll bring death to everyone you love.”
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Kaelor’s words struck like a blow. Aethren pictured his mother in their modest home, the bustling market filled with familiar faces. Could he risk their safety for his own ignorance?
“I can’t just leave,” he said, his voice breaking. “This is my home.”
Kaelor stepped closer, placing a hand on Aethren’s shoulder. His gaze was steady but unyielding. “Home is nothing if it’s swallowed by the Abyss. The choice is yours, Aethren, but time is not on your side.”
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A rustling in the trees shattered the moment. Aethren spun around, his heart pounding. The forest, so still moments ago, now seemed alive with unseen movement.
“They’re here,” Kaelor said sharply. “Move!”
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Aethren barely had time to react before Kaelor grabbed his arm and pulled him into the trees. The shard’s glow intensified as they ran, its light casting long shadows in the undergrowth. Behind them, guttural growls and snapping branches grew louder.
“What are they?” Aethren shouted, his legs burning with every step.
“Hunters,” Kaelor replied without looking back. “Manifestations of the Abyss. Faster than wolves, stronger than bears, and relentless.”
Aethren risked a glance over his shoulder. Shadows darted between the trees, too fast to make out clearly, but their glowing red eyes burned in the darkness.
Kaelor suddenly stopped, yanking Aethren behind a fallen log. “Stay down,” he hissed.
Aethren obeyed, his heart hammering in his chest. He gripped the shard tightly, its warmth steadying his shaking hands.
The forest grew eerily silent, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves. Then, one of the creatures emerged—a massive beast with sleek black fur and claws like scythes. Its snout twitched as it sniffed the air, its eyes glowing with a malevolent light.
Kaelor’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword, but he didn’t draw it. Instead, he turned to Aethren. “Do exactly as I say. Hold the shard up and focus on its light. Let it guide you.”
“What?!” Aethren’s voice cracked. “I don’t even know how—”
“Trust me!” Kaelor snapped.
Swallowing his fear, Aethren raised the shard. Its glow brightened, casting a pure, radiant light across the clearing. The beast snarled, recoiling as if burned.
“Good,” Kaelor murmured. “Now focus. Imagine the light as a shield.”
Aethren closed his eyes, his mind a whirlwind of fear and desperation. He pictured the shard’s light enveloping them, forming an unbreakable barrier.
The shard grew hot in his hand, and a blinding flash erupted. When Aethren opened his eyes, the beast was gone, its growls replaced by an uneasy stillness.
Kaelor exhaled slowly. “Not bad for a first attempt.”
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They didn’t stop running until they reached the edge of the forest, where the trees gave way to rolling hills bathed in moonlight. Aethren collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
“What was that?” he demanded between breaths.
Kaelor knelt beside him. “Your first taste of what lies ahead. The shard is a fragment of the Veil, a relic of immense power. It chose you because you have the potential to wield it. But power alone isn’t enough. You must learn to control it—or it will consume you.”
Aethren stared at the shard, the weight of Kaelor’s words sinking in. His life, so simple mere hours ago, now felt like a storm spiraling out of control.
“What happens now?” he asked quietly.
Kaelor stood, his golden eyes fixed on the horizon. “We head for the Nexus. If the Abyss claims it, all is lost.”
Aethren rose to his feet, clutching the shard tightly. The fear still lingered, but beneath it was a flicker of determination.
“I’m coming,” he said, his voice steady. “If it means protecting my home, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Kaelor smiled faintly. “Good. The journey won’t be easy, but you’ve already taken the first step.”
As they set off under the starry sky, Aethren couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking into something far greater than he could comprehend. The shard’s light pulsed in his hand, a silent promise of the trials to come.