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Through the Veil of Darkness
Chapter 4: The First Infusion

Chapter 4: The First Infusion

The shard’s hum was no longer just a faint, distant rhythm; it had become a part of me. Each pulse felt as though it were echoing within my chest, threading its energy through my being. I could no longer ignore it, nor did I want to. Whatever it was, this shard had opened a door to something far greater than I had ever imagined.

But it was also dangerous. The memory of the pain from my first attempt still lingered, a warning of the cost of pushing too far. Yet, a flicker of stubbornness kept me from hesitating. This shard had chosen me, and I couldn’t afford to waste its gift. Not when it was my only chance to prove my worth.

The morning after my second victory against Aric, I returned to the library. Briar greeted me as always, his warm voice cutting through the quiet air. The scent of parchment and ink grounded me, a familiar comfort in a world that so often felt alien.

“Back so soon, young master?” Briar asked. “You’ve been spending more time here than usual.”

I let out a faint smile as I moved toward the table, trailing my hand along the edge to find my seat. “There’s too much to learn, and not enough time.”

Briar chuckled softly. “You sound like a man on a mission. Tell me, has the shard been... speaking to you again?”

I hesitated, my fingers brushing against the medallion hanging around my neck. “Not speaking, exactly. But it’s... alive. I can feel it. And it’s changing me.”

Briar fell silent for a moment, his tone careful when he finally spoke. “You’re certain?”

I nodded. “It’s hard to explain. When I focus on it, it’s like it guides me. During training, I can sense movements. It’s not sight, but... it’s something.”

“That’s no small claim, Caelan,” Briar said thoughtfully. “Magic of this nature—if it’s truly infused with you—it’s a double-edged sword. It may give you strength, but it may also demand something in return.”

“I don’t care,” I said quickly. “I’ll take the risks. If this shard can make me stronger, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Briar sighed, the sound weighted. “Then tread carefully. I have a feeling this is only the beginning of what the shard will ask of you.”

That night, I sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor of my chambers, the shard resting in my palm. Its hum was steady, sharper than before, as though it was waiting for me to act. The memory of my first attempt flickered in my mind—the searing pain, the raw intensity of the energy coursing through me. But I wasn’t afraid this time.

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I took a slow breath, letting the words from the ancient book resurface in my mind. Feel the magic. Let it flow. Guide it to where it is needed.

The shard’s hum grew louder as I focused inward, my breathing steadying as I aligned myself with its rhythm. I let the energy flow from the medallion into my hands, imagining it weaving through my body like threads of light.

The warmth came first, gentle and soothing. But it was quickly replaced by pain—sharp and biting, as though my veins were being set ablaze. I gritted my teeth, my free hand clawing at the floor as I struggled to maintain control. The shard pulsed sharply, its rhythm quickening as the energy surged through me.

Every instinct screamed at me to let go, to stop. But I refused. I tightened my grip on the medallion, letting the shard’s hum guide me. The pain built to an unbearable peak, then suddenly... it stopped.

I gasped, collapsing onto the floor as the shard’s hum quieted into a faint murmur. My entire body ached, but beneath the exhaustion, I felt something new. A flicker of strength. A connection I couldn’t describe.

I flexed my fingers, the warmth lingering in my hands. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. For the first time, I felt like I was truly tapping into the shard’s power.

The next morning, the effects of the infusion were clear. My hands were steadier, my movements sharper, and I felt a faint buzz of energy coursing through me. Even the simple act of walking through the halls of Veylora Keep felt... easier, somehow. It was subtle, but I could feel the difference in every step.

The training yard was already alive with the sounds of sparring and shouting when I arrived. Aric was there, of course, his voice carrying above the clamor as he barked orders at a group of younger squires.

“Back again, little brother?” he called, spotting me. “Didn’t think you’d have the stomach for another round.”

I ignored his jab, stepping into the sparring circle without a word. The shard’s hum was faint but steady, aligning with the rhythm of my breathing as I gripped the wooden sword in my hand.

Aric didn’t wait for an invitation. His first strike came fast and hard, a move meant to intimidate. But I was ready. The shard’s energy sharpened my senses, guiding my movements as I sidestepped his attack and countered with a strike of my own.

The match was faster this time, more intense. Each of his strikes met with a deflection, each of his feints anticipated. I could feel his frustration growing with every passing moment.

“You’re—” he started, but his words were cut short as I disarmed him with a final, well-placed strike. His sword clattered to the ground, the sound echoing through the silent yard.

Aric stared at me, his breathing heavy, his expression unreadable. “How...?”

I stepped back, lowering my weapon. “Maybe I’ve been practicing.”

The murmurs of the soldiers around us filled the air as Aric retrieved his weapon. He didn’t say another word, walking away without so much as a glance in my direction. For the first time, I felt like I had earned their respect—not because of my name, but because of what I had done.

That evening, I returned to the library, the shard’s hum quiet but steady in my chest. Briar was waiting for me, his gaze thoughtful as I sat across from him.

“You’ve been experimenting,” he said knowingly.

I nodded, my hand brushing against the medallion. “It’s... working. I think I’m starting to understand it.”

“Be careful, Caelan,” Briar said seriously. “Power like this is never given freely. The shard has chosen you, yes, but that doesn’t mean its intentions are pure.”

“I’ll be careful,” I promised. But as I sat there, the shard’s hum resonating through me, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would ask of me in return.