The horizon stretched wide before them, an endless expanse of ocean meeting sky in a dance of muted grays and blues. The air was thick with moisture, a salty tang that clung to the skin and filled the lungs, making every breath feel heavy. Lia stood at the bow of the ship, her eyes fixed on the distant shape of the Shattered Isle, barely visible through the mist that rolled across the waves like an ancient, forgotten secret.
They had been sailing for days, the journey fraught with unpredictable currents and storms that seemed almost unnatural, as if the sea itself was warning them away from their destination. The crew was tense, their usual banter and laughter subdued as they neared the Isle, a place shrouded in mystery and legend. No one spoke of the rumors, but Lia could feel the weight of them in the air—the stories of sailors who had ventured to the Isle and never returned, of strange creatures lurking in the mists, of time itself bending and warping in unnatural ways.
But Lia wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. There was no room for fear, not with the keystone’s weight pressing against her chest, its pulse a constant reminder of the stakes. The fractures were spreading, and the Shadow was growing stronger with each passing day. Time was running out, and the Shattered Isle was their only lead.
Arren joined her at the bow, his expression as serious as ever. He, too, had changed over the course of their journey. The scholar who had once been content to spend his days poring over ancient texts now carried a grim determination in his eyes, a resolve that had been forged in the fires of their battles with the Shadow. He had become a leader, though he would never admit it, and Lia had come to rely on his wisdom more than she would have liked to admit.
"We're close," he said, his voice low, almost as if he didn't want to disturb the silence of the sea. "The Shattered Isle should be just ahead, though it’s hard to say exactly how far. The mists make it difficult to judge."
Lia nodded, her gaze never wavering from the distant shape of the Isle. "What do you expect to find there? The journal was vague at best."
Arren sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly, I don’t know. The scholar who wrote the journal believed that the Isle held the key to closing the fractures, but there’s so little concrete information. All we have are fragments—pieces of a puzzle that don’t quite fit together yet."
"We’ll figure it out," Lia said, more to herself than to him. "We have to."
Arren glanced at her, his expression softening for a moment. "You’ve changed, Lia. When we first started this journey, I don’t think you believed any of this was real. Now…"
"Now I’m carrying the keystone that holds the fate of time itself," she finished for him, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, I’ve changed."
Arren chuckled softly, though there was little humor in it. "We all have."
Behind them, Kellan leaned against the ship’s railing, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. He had been quieter than usual since they’d set sail, a tension in his posture that hadn’t been there before. Lia wondered if it was the Isle that unnerved him, or something else.
"Anything out there?" she called to him.
Kellan shook his head, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger, as it often did when he was on edge. "Nothing yet. But this place… it feels wrong. Like we’re sailing into something we can’t come back from."
Lia didn’t respond. She felt it too—that strange, almost oppressive sensation that had settled over them as they drew closer to the Isle. It was as if the very air was charged with some unseen force, a pressure that weighed on her chest and made her feel as though she were being watched.
"Keep your guard up," she said instead, though she knew Kellan hardly needed the reminder.
The minutes dragged by, each one heavier than the last, until finally, the mists began to part, revealing the jagged, rocky shoreline of the Shattered Isle. It rose out of the sea like a broken tooth, its cliffs sharp and treacherous, with jagged rocks jutting out of the water like the bones of some long-dead creature. The Isle was barren, desolate, and as they drew nearer, Lia felt a chill run down her spine.
The crew worked in near silence as they anchored the ship just off the coast, their usual grumbling and banter replaced by tense, nervous glances at the Isle. No one wanted to be here, but they didn’t have a choice. The fractures needed to be closed, and this was their only lead.
As the small rowboat carried them toward the shore, Lia’s heart pounded in her chest. The keystone thrummed softly against her skin, as if in response to the Isle’s proximity. She could feel its power growing, a strange, almost magnetic pull that seemed to draw her toward the island’s heart.
The boat scraped against the rocky beach, and they disembarked, their boots crunching against the rough stones. The air here was thick, heavy with the scent of salt and something else—something ancient and musty, like the smell of forgotten ruins buried deep beneath the earth.
Arren took out the journal, flipping through its pages as they stood at the edge of the shore. "The journal doesn’t give exact directions, but it mentions a temple at the center of the Isle. That’s where we need to go."
Kellan looked up at the cliffs towering above them. "Great. Because climbing those looks like a lot of fun."
Lia shot him a look. "Complaining isn’t going to make it any easier."
He shrugged, his usual smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Just trying to lighten the mood."
They began the climb in silence, the rocky path steep and treacherous. The mist clung to them, thick and oppressive, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. Every step felt like a struggle, the air growing colder the higher they climbed. Lia could feel the keystone’s pulse growing stronger with each step, as if it were responding to something deep within the Isle itself.
By the time they reached the top of the cliffs, Lia’s legs were burning, and her breath came in ragged gasps. But she barely had time to catch her breath before she saw it—the temple.
It stood at the center of the Isle, a massive, crumbling structure of stone and metal, its walls covered in strange, ancient symbols that glowed faintly in the dim light. The air around it seemed to shimmer, as if the very fabric of reality was thinner here, more fragile. Lia could feel the keystone vibrating against her chest, its pulse almost frantic now, like it was alive.
"This is it," Arren said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The temple."
They approached cautiously, their weapons drawn, though they had no idea what they might face inside. The entrance was a massive archway, its stone doors long since crumbled away, leaving only darkness beyond. Lia hesitated at the threshold, her heart pounding in her ears.
"Are you sure about this?" Kellan asked, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
Lia glanced at him, then at Arren, who was staring at the entrance with a mixture of awe and fear. "We don’t have a choice."
With that, she stepped inside.
The air within the temple was cold, far colder than it should have been, and it smelled of damp stone and decay. The walls were covered in more of the strange symbols, their faint glow casting eerie shadows across the floor. The deeper they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became, as if the very air was pressing down on them.
Lia’s heart raced, her every sense on high alert. The keystone’s pulse was almost painful now, its energy swirling within her like a storm. She could feel it reaching out, connecting to something deep within the temple.
As they entered the central chamber, Lia stopped in her tracks. At the center of the room, bathed in an unnatural light, was a massive stone altar. And on the altar, suspended in midair, was a shard of crystal, its surface swirling with dark energy.
"The source of the fractures," Arren whispered, his eyes wide.
Lia approached the altar cautiously, her eyes fixed on the shard. She could feel its power, dark and twisted, like a cancer that had infected the very fabric of time itself. The keystone throbbed in response, its pulse growing louder, faster.
"We need to destroy it," Lia said, her voice steady despite the fear that gnawed at her insides.
"Wait," Arren said, grabbing her arm. "We don’t know what will happen if we do. The fractures could spread even further. We need to be sure."
Lia hesitated, her eyes locked on the shard. She could feel its pull, its dark energy wrapping around her like a web. But she also knew that they didn’t have time to wait. The fractures were growing, the Shadow was getting stronger, and every second they delayed brought the world closer to destruction.
"I don’t think we have a choice," she said softly, pulling away from Arren’s grip.
Before anyone could stop her, Lia reached for the keystone, its energy swirling through her like a wave. She could feel the power of time itself, the weight of all the moments that had ever been and ever would be, pressing down on her.
With a deep breath, she raised the keystone high above her head—and brought it down on the shard.
The world exploded into light.
----------------------------------------
Lia gasped for breath, her body trembling as she struggled to regain her senses. She was lying on the cold stone floor of the temple, her limbs heavy, her mind foggy. Slowly, she pushed herself up, blinking against the blinding light that filled the chamber.
The shard was gone.
The altar was shattered, its pieces scattered across the floor. The air hummed with residual energy, the aftershocks of whatever had just happened. Lia’s heart raced as she looked around, her eyes searching for the others.
Arren was slumped against the wall, his face pale and his breathing shallow. Kellan was on his knees, clutching his head as if in pain.
"What… what just happened?" Kellan groaned, his voice hoarse.
Lia shook her head, her mind still reeling. "I don’t know. But I think… I think it’s over."
Arren slowly pushed himself to his feet, his eyes wide as he looked around the chamber. "The fractures… they’re closing. I can feel it."
Lia felt a wave of relief wash over her, but it was quickly replaced by a new sense of unease. The fractures might be closing, but something didn’t feel right. She could still feel the keystone’s energy swirling within her, more powerful than ever.
And somewhere, deep within the shadows of time, something stirred.
Something darker.
Something more dangerous.
The journey wasn’t over. Not yet.
----------------------------------------
The world outside the temple felt different—heavier, darker. As they emerged into the mist-laden air of the Shattered Isle, Lia felt a weight settle over her that was far more than just exhaustion. The keystone still pulsed faintly at her chest, but it no longer hummed with urgency. Instead, it seemed almost... calm. Yet the calm did nothing to soothe the tension that prickled at the back of her neck.
Arren looked dazed, his usually sharp eyes clouded with confusion. Kellan, still rubbing his temples, seemed to be shaking off the effects of whatever had happened inside. But for Lia, everything was sharp and clear. Too clear. The light from the shard’s destruction had seared through her, imprinting something deep in her mind. Visions flashed before her—fragments of time, moments that hadn’t yet come to pass. She saw a storm, swirling black clouds churning with malevolent energy. She saw ruins, not of stone but of whole civilizations crumbling beneath the weight of something far worse than time’s decay. And she saw a shadow—more like a presence—hovering just beyond the edge of her thoughts, waiting.
"I think we did more than destroy the shard," Lia muttered, looking out over the barren landscape of the Isle.
Kellan stopped beside her, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his blade. "What do you mean? The fractures are closing, aren’t they?"
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Lia nodded, though the uneasy feeling in her gut only deepened. "They are. But something else is happening too. I don’t think destroying the shard was enough. I think we’ve only just started something."
Arren rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the fog. "It’s possible. That shard was only a manifestation of the fracture. It wasn’t the cause. Something created it, and whatever it was, it’s still out there."
The three of them stood in silence for a moment, staring out into the distance. The mist was thicker now, swirling around them in slow, creeping tendrils that obscured their view of the sea. The ship they’d sailed in on was barely visible through the fog, and the crew was nothing more than shadows moving on the deck.
Lia turned her back to the ocean and glanced at the temple behind them. The ancient structure seemed even more imposing now, its dark stone walls looming over them like a guardian of long-forgotten secrets. Something about the place felt unfinished, as if their task here wasn’t complete. Yet every instinct in her body screamed at her to leave.
"We should go," Lia said, forcing herself to turn away from the temple. "There’s nothing left for us here. We need to regroup, figure out what’s next."
Arren nodded in agreement. "You’re right. Whatever we started here, we can’t fight it blindly. We need more information."
Kellan shot her a skeptical look. "You think there’s time to regroup? We’re not exactly dealing with a patient enemy."
"We don’t have a choice," Lia said, her voice hardening. "Charging ahead without knowing what we’re up against will get us killed. We need to find out what’s driving the fractures. The keystone is powerful, but it’s not enough. Not against this."
With a reluctant nod, Kellan relented. "Fine. But I don’t like the idea of sitting around while this thing out there keeps gaining strength."
Arren closed his journal and tucked it back into his pack. "Let’s get back to the ship. We can plan our next move once we’re safely off this cursed rock."
The trio made their way down the rocky path that led back to the shore. Every step felt heavier than the last, as if the Isle itself was reluctant to let them leave. Lia couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching them from the mists, though every time she turned to look, there was nothing but the swirling gray fog and the jagged rocks.
As they reached the beach, the crew helped them into the rowboat, their faces pale and drawn with fear. No one spoke. Even the captain, a grizzled veteran of the seas who had faced countless dangers, seemed uneasy. His eyes flicked constantly toward the Isle, as if expecting something to rise from its depths.
The row back to the ship was slow and silent, the oars cutting through the water with a steady, rhythmic sound. Lia stared at the shore as it receded into the distance, a knot of unease tightening in her chest. She had hoped that leaving the Isle would bring some relief, but the farther they got from the land, the more that sense of dread gnawed at her.
Back on the ship, the crew wasted no time hoisting the anchor and setting sail. The winds were unkind, pushing against them with unnatural force, but the captain guided the ship with a steady hand, determined to put as much distance between them and the Shattered Isle as possible.
Lia stood at the railing, staring out over the churning waves. Her mind was racing, thoughts tumbling over each other as she tried to make sense of what had happened. The destruction of the shard had been the culmination of their journey so far, but instead of feeling like they had won a victory, it felt like they had only opened the door to something far worse.
She reached up and touched the keystone hanging from her neck, its cool surface a reminder of the power she now carried. The visions still flickered in the back of her mind, fragmented and unclear, but one thing was certain: their fight was far from over.
The sound of footsteps behind her broke through her thoughts. Arren joined her at the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
"You feel it too, don’t you?" he asked quietly.
Lia nodded. "It’s not over. Whatever we unleashed… it’s still out there. And it’s getting stronger."
Arren sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I was afraid of that. The fractures may be closing, but the source of the disturbance is still active. We need to find out what it is, and fast. The longer it’s left unchecked, the more damage it will do."
Lia looked at him, her brow furrowing in concern. "Do you think the keystone is enough? It destroyed the shard, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s only a piece of the puzzle."
Arren hesitated, his eyes dark with thought. "The keystone is powerful, yes. But like you said, it’s only a piece. There may be other artifacts, other forces at play that we don’t yet understand. We’re dealing with ancient magic, Lia. Magic that predates everything we know about time and space. It’s not something we can control with just one artifact."
Lia’s grip tightened on the railing as the full weight of their situation settled over her. They were chasing a shadow, a force they barely understood, and the only thing they had to guide them was a keystone with powers they hadn’t fully unlocked.
"We need to find answers," she said firmly. "Before the fractures get worse. Before the Shadow becomes unstoppable."
Arren gave a solemn nod. "Agreed. I think it’s time we paid a visit to someone who might have those answers."
Lia raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
He turned to face her, his expression serious. "There’s a scholar—a historian of ancient magics. He’s a recluse now, but if anyone knows about the origins of the fractures, it’s him. He’s spent his life studying the old ways, the forbidden arts that have been lost to time."
"Where do we find him?"
Arren hesitated, his gaze drifting back toward the Isle as if considering something. "His name is Corvin. He lives in the Forgotten Vale, a place deep within the northern mountains. It’s a dangerous journey, and not many have returned from there. But if we want answers, that’s where we need to go."
Lia’s pulse quickened at the mention of the Forgotten Vale. She had heard the stories—tales of treacherous mountain passes, of strange creatures that roamed the snow-covered peaks, of ancient ruins buried beneath the ice. But if this Corvin held the key to understanding the fractures, they had no choice.
"Then we head north," she said, determination hardening her voice. "To the Forgotten Vale."
Arren nodded, though the shadow of uncertainty lingered in his eyes. "We’ll need to prepare. The journey will be long, and the Vale is unforgiving. But if we can make it, Corvin may have the answers we need."
Kellan joined them, his usual lighthearted demeanor replaced by a rare seriousness. "I heard you talking about the Vale. Dangerous place, that. But if it’s where we need to go, I’m with you."
Lia smiled slightly, appreciating his loyalty. "Thanks, Kellan."
He shrugged, flashing a crooked grin. "Hey, someone’s gotta make sure you two don’t get yourselves killed."
As the ship sailed onward, the distant silhouette of the Shattered Isle finally disappeared from view, swallowed by the horizon. But even as the Isle vanished, the weight of their journey ahead loomed large in Lia’s mind.
The Forgotten Vale awaited them, and with it, the answers they so desperately needed. But answers often came at a cost, and Lia couldn’t shake the feeling that the price they would pay might be far steeper than any of them were prepared for.
Far in the distance, the mountains of the north rose like jagged teeth, waiting to reveal their secrets.
----------------------------------------
The journey northward stretched into days, then weeks. Lia, Arren, and Kellan endured bitter winds and rugged terrain as they pressed toward the Forgotten Vale, navigating through dense forests and treacherous mountain passes. Each step brought them closer to their destination, but also deeper into the heart of danger.
The chill in the air was constant now. The once-lush forests had given way to snow-dusted slopes and valleys, and their path was often obscured by howling blizzards that reduced visibility to mere feet. Despite the weather, Lia felt the weight of the keystone growing heavier with each passing day. It seemed to respond to the cold, humming faintly beneath her cloak, as if sensing that they were nearing something important.
"How much farther?" Kellan asked one evening, his breath fogging the air as he crouched by their small campfire.
Arren studied the map, his brow furrowed in concentration. "We’re close. Another day, maybe two, and we’ll reach the edge of the Vale."
Kellan groaned. "I hope this Corvin fellow is worth it. I’m not a fan of freezing my ass off for nothing."
Lia smiled faintly. Despite the danger, Kellan’s grumbling never ceased to lighten the mood. "He’ll be worth it," she said, her gaze drifting to the snow-covered mountains looming in the distance. "We don’t have a choice."
She turned her attention back to the fire, watching the flames dance and flicker in the biting wind. As they huddled for warmth, the silence of the mountains pressed in around them, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the occasional groan of shifting ice in the distance. Lia found her thoughts wandering back to the Shattered Isle, to the moment when the shard had been destroyed. The keystone had absorbed so much power—too much power. She still didn’t understand the full extent of what it had done to her.
"Something’s wrong," she murmured, almost to herself.
Arren looked up from the map, his eyes narrowing in concern. "What do you mean?"
Lia hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Since we left the Isle, I’ve felt… different. The keystone’s power is stronger, but it’s not just that. I feel like it’s changed me. Like I’m connected to something I don’t fully understand."
Arren’s face darkened, his thoughts visibly turning inward. "The keystone is ancient magic. It’s possible that it’s awakening something inside you. Something that’s always been there, but dormant."
Kellan raised an eyebrow. "That sounds ominous."
Arren shook his head. "Not necessarily. But Lia, you need to be careful. The keystone may give you power, but it could also influence you in ways you don’t expect. You have to stay in control."
Lia nodded, though a knot of uncertainty tightened in her stomach. She could feel the keystone’s pull, its energy simmering just below the surface. What had started as a faint connection was now a constant presence, a whisper in the back of her mind that grew louder with each passing day.
They had no choice but to continue. Whatever was happening to her, the answers lay in the Forgotten Vale—and with Corvin.
----------------------------------------
By the third day, the terrain had become more treacherous. The snow was knee-deep in places, and the wind howled like a living thing, biting at their exposed skin and making every step a battle. The towering peaks of the Forgotten Vale loomed ahead, jagged and foreboding, their tops shrouded in swirling clouds.
"Almost there," Arren said, his voice barely audible over the wind.
Lia forced herself to keep moving, her legs burning from the effort. Kellan was struggling too, his usual bravado muted by the harsh conditions. But they pressed on, driven by the knowledge that turning back was not an option.
As they approached the mouth of the Vale, the wind suddenly died down, as if they had passed into a different world. The snow here was thicker, untouched by footprints or signs of life. The silence was eerie, and Lia could feel the weight of the place pressing down on her.
The entrance to the Forgotten Vale was marked by two massive stone pillars, ancient and weathered, their surfaces covered in intricate carvings. Lia couldn’t read the symbols, but she recognized their significance—this place was old. Older than the civilizations they had encountered so far. Older than time, perhaps.
"These markings…" Arren muttered, his fingers tracing one of the symbols. "They’re ancient. From before the fractures. This place was built by a people who understood time in ways we can’t even begin to grasp."
"Great," Kellan said, eyeing the dark path ahead. "Let’s hope Corvin hasn’t forgotten how to greet visitors."
The trio stepped into the Vale, and Lia immediately felt a change in the air. It was colder here, not just physically, but in some deeper, more profound way. The keystone pulsed against her chest, reacting to the energy of the place. She felt it resonate with the ancient magic that permeated the air, as if the very walls of the Vale were alive with the power of time itself.
They moved deeper into the Vale, the path winding through towering cliffs and narrow gorges. The further they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. Shadows danced at the edges of their vision, and the silence was so thick it was almost suffocating.
After what felt like hours, they reached a narrow pass that opened into a wide, frozen valley. At the far end of the valley, nestled against the base of the mountains, was a structure—an ancient fortress, half-buried in snow and ice.
"That must be it," Arren said, his voice hushed with awe.
The fortress was massive, its stone walls towering over the valley like a sleeping giant. Icicles hung from the battlements, and snow drifts covered the courtyard, but there was no sign of life. No movement. No light.
Lia’s heart pounded in her chest as they approached the gates. The keystone was practically vibrating now, reacting to the energy of the fortress. She could feel it pulling her forward, urging her to go inside.
"Do you think he’s still here?" Kellan asked, his voice tinged with unease.
Arren didn’t answer. He stepped forward and pushed against the massive stone doors. They creaked open with a low groan, revealing a dark, cavernous hall beyond.
Lia hesitated for a moment, then followed Arren inside. Kellan came last, his hand on his sword as if expecting something to jump out at them from the shadows.
The interior of the fortress was just as cold and foreboding as the outside. The air was thick with dust and the faint smell of decay. Ancient tapestries hung from the walls, their colors faded and their edges frayed. The stone floor was covered in a thin layer of frost, and every step they took echoed through the vast, empty hall.
"Corvin?" Arren called out, his voice echoing in the silence.
There was no response. The fortress felt abandoned, as if it had been forgotten by time itself.
But Lia knew better. The keystone was still pulling at her, guiding her deeper into the fortress. She could feel it resonating with something inside the walls—something ancient and powerful.
"We need to keep moving," Lia said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He’s here. I can feel it."
They made their way through the labyrinthine corridors of the fortress, the air growing colder with each step. Lia’s breath came in short, sharp bursts, her heart pounding in her chest. The keystone was leading her now, its energy guiding her through the twisting halls as if it knew the way.
Finally, they reached a large chamber at the heart of the fortress. The room was vast, its walls lined with shelves filled with ancient books and scrolls. In the center of the room, seated at a massive stone table, was a figure.
Corvin.
The man was older than Lia had expected, his face lined with deep wrinkles and his hair a shock of white. He was hunched over a book, his eyes scanning the pages with a sharp, focused intensity. He didn’t look up as they entered.
"Corvin?" Arren asked cautiously, stepping forward.
The old man slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing as they settled on the group. "You’ve come," he said, his voice low and rasping.
Lia felt a shiver run down her spine at the sound of his voice. There was something in it—something ancient and knowing, as if he had seen things no mortal was meant to see.
"You’ve come for answers," Corvin continued, his gaze flicking to the keystone hanging from Lia’s neck. "But be warned, the answers you seek may not be the ones you wish to hear."
Lia swallowed hard, her hand instinctively going to the keystone. "We need to know what’s causing the fractures," she said, her voice steady despite the growing tension in the room. "We need to know how to stop it."
Corvin’s eyes gleamed with something like amusement. "You think you can stop it? The fractures are not a disease to be cured, child. They are the natural order of things—time breaking free from the chains that bind it."
Lia’s heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"
Corvin rose from his seat, moving with a slow, deliberate grace. "Time is not a linear path, as you have been taught. It is a vast, endless ocean, and the fractures are the waves crashing against the shore. They are inevitable. And the keystone you carry—it is both a tool and a curse. It will show you the way, but it will also lead you to ruin."
Lia stared at him, her mind racing. "But there has to be a way to fix it. To stop the fractures from spreading."
Corvin’s smile was cold. "Fix it? You cannot fix what was never meant to be whole. The fractures are a part of time itself. You may close one, but another will open. And as for stopping them…" He trailed off, his gaze growing distant. "There is only one way to stop time from unraveling completely. But it is not a path you will want to take."
Lia felt a chill run through her. "What path?"
Corvin’s eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment, she saw the weight of centuries in his gaze. "You must surrender to time, child. Let it take you. Only by becoming one with the fractures can you hope to control them."
The room seemed to spin, and Lia’s grip tightened on the keystone. The thought of surrendering to the fractures, of giving herself over to the very thing they had been fighting against, was unthinkable.
But deep down, she knew Corvin was right.