Echoes of the First Warden
---
Kael awoke to the sound of fire crackling softly.
For a moment, he didn't remember where he was. The ceiling above him was carved stone, faintly glowing with runes of containment and healing. The air carried the scent of old dust, smoke, and something sharper—Veil energy still simmering in the aftermath.
Then the pain returned, sharp and cold, radiating from his core.
The Shard inside him pulsed once—subdued, for now.
He sat up slowly.
Nyssra was there beside him, slumped against the wall, half-asleep. Her staff lay beside her, dimly glowing.
She stirred as he moved. "Kael?"
He nodded. "Still me."
She smiled faintly, but her eyes were lined with exhaustion. "Barely. You were almost gone."
"Was it worth it?"
Nyssra glanced toward the center of the chamber.
The Devourer's prison now glowed with layered sigils, humming with reinforced Veilforce. Dain's handiwork, no doubt—though even he looked drained, sprawled on a bedroll nearby with a blood-soaked cloth across his forehead.
Theron stood guard at the chamber's entrance, blades sheathed, scanning the dark as if daring anything else to rise.
"It's sealed," Nyssra said. "Stronger than before. Whatever you did—whatever you became—you bought us time."
Kael rubbed a hand over his face. "And lost a little more of myself in the process."
Nyssra hesitated. Then reached out, gently touched his shoulder.
"No," she said softly. "You held the line. That's what makes you different from the others who carried corrupted Shards. You chose."
Kael looked at her, tired but grateful. "How long was I out?"
"Two days," said Dain, rising with a groan. "Just long enough for the world to change again."
---
They gathered around the sealed sphere.
Dain's face was pale, but resolute. He gestured to the sigils he had carved into the floor—older than anything Kael had seen, even in the ruins.
"These aren't just bindings," Dain said. "They're a message."
Nyssra frowned. "From who?"
"Not who," Dain corrected. "When."
He tapped a central symbol. It shimmered, and a projection flickered to life in the air above the prison.
A ghostly figure—hooded, faceless, crackling with Veil energy—spoke in a voice layered with echoes:
> "If this prison weakens, the Shardbearers must be summoned. Only through unity of cursed and pure can the First Warden rise again. The Realms will burn unless the balance is reforged."
Kael's heart pounded. "The First Warden?"
Theron crossed his arms. "Never heard of him."
Dain's eyes glittered. "You wouldn't. The name was erased from history. But he was the one who first sealed the Devourer. A bearer of all Shard types—pure, corrupted, and something else entirely. The Apex Veil."
Nyssra's voice trembled. "That's myth."
"No," Dain said. "That's legacy. And I think Kael… is his echo."
---
Kael turned away from them, the weight of the truth settling over him like a mountain.
His whole life had been shaped by forces he didn't understand—by power he never asked for.
But now he had a choice.
Either walk away and pretend it wasn't real.
Or step into the fire.
And become what the world needed him to be.
Kael clenched his fist. The corrupted Shard pulsed in response.
"I want answers," he said. "All of them. Who I am. What the First Warden left behind. And how to stop what's coming."
Dain nodded slowly. "Then we go north. To the Archives of Ir-Daen. If the truth survives anywhere, it's there."
Theron grinned. "Good. I was starting to get bored."
Nyssra gave Kael a steady look. "No more solo heroics. We do this together."
Kael smiled, the expression rough but real.
"Together."
And so they rose—bloodied, bonded, and burning with purpose—and turned toward the surface.
The Realms had forgotten the old war.
But the shadows hadn't.
And neither had the ones waiting beyond the Veil.