Chapter 12: The Broken Chain
Theme: Free Will and Fate / The Price of Power
The days after Vareth Tal were heavy with silence. Even the wind, which once sang with voices and memory, seemed to hold its breath.
Kael walked apart from the others. The Crownshard sat at the center of his chest, tethered to the others by lines of raw magic. He no longer needed to summon the elements. They obeyed him like hounds answering a whistle.
But power had a weight.
And secrets even heavier.
He had seen it all in the vision.
The Hollowed King. The First Bearer. The Shattering.
And now he carried the same burden.
Seraeth finally broke the silence.
"You haven't said a word since the city fell."
Kael didn't look at her. "Because there's nothing to say that won't change everything."
She placed a hand on her sword. Not threatening—just grounding. "Tell us anyway."
He stopped. Turned.
"We were wrong about the shards. They aren't just tools or pieces of the old kingdom."
"They're something more," Vaelen said quietly.
Kael nodded. "They're pieces of a prison. Built to hold the will of Aetherion itself. When the first bearer betrayed the council, he used them to bind the power into the earth. Into time. Into himself."
"And now that you've gathered them…" Seraeth said, eyes narrowing.
"I've become the key to that prison. And if I die, or if I break, what's inside will escape."
"Then the Hollowed King…" Vaelen whispered.
"…was trying to keep it contained. He sacrificed everything. His name. His soul. And he became the villain to stop the return of something worse."
Seraeth looked away, face pale.
Vaelen sat down on a rock, old eyes filled with sorrow.
"We've been playing into it," Kael said. "Every step. Every shard. It was never about ruling Aetherion. It was about deciding who wears the chains."
"And now you do," Seraeth said.
Kael nodded.
---
They camped in the Blackpine Forest, under a sky rippling with aurora. Strange beasts kept their distance, sensing the magic Kael carried.
In the firelight, Kael reached into his pack and pulled out a scroll—one of the oldest Vaelen had given him. On it, drawn in inks older than ink, was the sigil of the Shardbound: six shards surrounding a crown made of thorns.
Only now did he realize it was a warning.
Not a promise.
---
In the morning, a raven landed on Kael's shoulder.
It wasn't real. Its feathers shimmered like obsidian flame.
Its eyes were mirrors.
It spoke in the Hollowed King's voice.
"You have done what I could not. You bear them all."
Kael didn't respond.
"I will not stop you now," the raven continued. "But I will meet you at the Crossroads. Where the threads converge. Where the gate awaits."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "The gate to what?"
"To the Heart of Aetherion. Where the world was born. Where it ends."
The raven cawed once and exploded into ash.
---
Vaelen stood behind him. "The Crossroads is real. A place beyond time, where the first magic was shaped."
"I know," Kael said. "Because I dreamed of it last night."
Seraeth joined them. "Then let's go. And end this."
Kael didn't move. "No. We can't go as we are. I need to unbind one of the shards."
Vaelen looked alarmed. "Unbind? That's madness. The backlash alone—"
"—might kill me. I know."
"But why?"
Kael stared toward the east. "Because I can't face the Hollowed King chained. Not like he was. Not like I am."
---
That night, they performed the unbinding ritual.
They chose the Echo Shard—the one that whispered. That tempted.
Vaelen etched runes into the earth. Seraeth stood guard, blades drawn. Kael sat in the center, shards humming around him like a broken halo.
He focused on the Echo Shard, remembering its voice, its visions.
"I release you," he whispered.
The shard trembled. Then screamed.
Magic exploded outward. Trees caught fire. The sky turned inside out.
And then… silence.
The Echo Shard lay on the ground.
Dead.
Unbound.
Kael bled from his nose, mouth, and eyes.
But he was free.
---
They continued east, toward the Crossroads. Kael was weaker, slower. But his mind was clearer. The silence in his head was his own.
The fifth night, they crossed a river of starlight. Not water—pure memory. It showed them visions as they walked.
Seraeth saw her brother, long dead.
Vaelen saw the old library of Elaren burning.
Kael saw… himself.
Older. Alone. Crowned.
Surrounded by ash.
He didn't flinch.
He stepped forward.
---
They reached the Crossroads at dusk.
It was a circle of standing stones beneath a sky with no sun, no moon—only swirling stars.
At the center was a gate made of light.
The Hollowed King was already there.
He wore no armor. No crown. Only robes of black and silver.
His face, once hidden, was now revealed.
It was Kael's face.
Older.
Broken.
---
End of Chapter 12