Shadows in the Forest
The village had returned to a fragile calm. The Riftbeast was gone, its corpse dragged away by the Guardians, but its shadow still lingered in the minds of every villager. Ash and soot had seeped into the soil, and at night, the silence carried a weight that felt unnatural—too heavy, too expectant.
For days, Ryven trained in restless bursts. He swung his wooden staff until his hands blistered, then wrapped them and swung again. Nova often found him in the same place, drenched in sweat, jaw clenched, the faint glow of the shard always close by his side.
But no amount of practice could silence the gnawing thought that had burrowed into his chest: I was powerless. That won't happen again.
Rumors began to spread in hushed voices. Farmers whispered of shadows moving beyond the forest edge, of guttural cries echoing at night where no local beast should tread. Hunters returned pale-faced, swearing they saw claw marks far too large for any creature of their world.
The village elder spoke with gravity, warning the people not to stray too far. "A Riftbeast seldom comes alone. Its kind travels in echoes, and where there is one… there may be more."
Ryven's chest burned at those words. The Guardians had left to defend elsewhere. If another monster came, who would protect this village? His grandfather? The weary villagers? No… it had to be him.
That evening, under a purple sunset, he pulled Nova aside.
"We're going out there," he said, gripping his staff tightly.
Nova crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "Out where?"
"The forest. If there's something moving out there, we need to see it. If it's another Riftbeast…" His voice faltered. "I won't sit here waiting for it to come burn my home."
Nova sighed, brushing stray strands of hair behind her ear. "You're reckless, Ryven. But…" Her gaze softened, just for a moment. "…I'd already packed my blades. I knew you'd say this."
A grin flickered across his face despite the tension. Together, the two slipped away from the recovering village, vanishing into the trees as twilight gave way to night.
The forest was hushed, unnaturally so. No birds called. No insects hummed. Only the crunch of their boots on dry leaves. The further they walked, the thicker the air became, as if the forest itself were holding its breath.
Nova slowed, crouching by a tree. Her fingers traced across the bark. Deep gouges clawed into the trunk, still fresh, sap leaking like blood.
"This isn't from anything local," she whispered.
Ryven swallowed hard. His hand brushed against his pocket where the shard pulsed faintly, warm against his thigh. Almost… urging him forward.
---
The First Encounter
The trees opened into a clearing. Moonlight spilled across the grass, illuminating something hunched in the shadows.
It wasn't a Riftbeast—not as massive or armored—but it was no ordinary creature. Its body was insectoid, long spindly legs with too many joints, its carapace jagged and pulsating with crimson light. Its head was split into mandibles that clicked rhythmically, dripping with glowing saliva.
A low hiss rattled the air. The beast had already noticed them.
Nova's hand tightened around her twin blades. "That's no scout I've ever seen."
Ryven's grip on his staff faltered, sweat dampening the wood. "It doesn't matter. If it's here, it's dangerous."
The creature lunged before either could breathe. Its movements were impossibly fast—legs slicing through the air like scythes.
Ryven raised his staff just in time to block, the impact sending a violent shudder up his arms. He staggered, knees buckling. Nova darted to his side, blades flashing, striking the creature's foreleg. Sparks erupted where steel met alien hide, but it was like cutting stone.
The beast shrieked and swung its other leg. Nova twisted, rolling under it, her blade slicing across its joint. This time, the cut landed deeper—dark ichor spilled, glowing faintly as it burned the grass.
"Keep moving!" she shouted.
Ryven tried to follow, but his body was slower, his strikes heavier. The staff cracked against the beast's hide, leaving shallow dents but no serious damage. Each time he was too close, the mandibles snapped inches from his face.
Frustration bubbled inside him. His arms screamed with every strike, but still the monster pressed forward.
I'm not strong enough… not like this.
The shard in his pocket pulsed harder, its warmth spreading into his chest. His heart raced. It was as if the shard was speaking to him, tempting him: Use me. Claim me.
But the thought terrified him.
The beast lashed out again, and this time Ryven wasn't fast enough. A leg slammed into his side, sending him sprawling into the dirt. His staff flew from his grip.
"Ryven!" Nova's voice cracked with urgency as she intercepted the next strike, her blades crossing to block the mandibles. Sparks exploded as she pushed with all her strength. But she was small compared to the monster, and her feet dragged back through the soil.
The creature's mandibles snapped closer, saliva dripping, its hiss rattling like laughter.
Ryven pushed himself up, ribs aching, vision blurred. His hand instinctively grabbed the shard. It pulsed violently, like a living heart.
---
Unleashing the Spark
Time seemed to slow.
Nova's face twisted in desperate strain, her arms trembling as she held the mandibles at bay. The creature's jaws inched closer, its breath hot and fetid.
Ryven's hand tightened around the shard.
If I don't act, she dies.
A voice inside him whispered. Then burn. Burn everything between you and death.
Heat exploded in his chest. His veins felt like they were filled with molten fire. The shard's glow bled into his skin, tracing faint lines of crimson across his arm.
Ryven staggered to his feet, eyes burning with unnatural light. He raised his hand, and fire erupted—not conjured like a Guardian's, but raw, unstable, as if the shard had torn a piece of flame from another world and crammed it into his body.
With a roar, he swung his arm forward. The staff in his grip ignited, flames racing along its length. The strike connected with the beast's side, and for the first time, it shrieked in pain. Its carapace cracked, glowing flesh seared beneath the impact.
Nova twisted free, dropping to the ground as Ryven advanced, every strike faster, harder, his body moving as if something far greater was guiding it. The staff's flames carved burning arcs through the clearing, forcing the monster back.
But the fire wasn't just burning the beast. It burned Ryven too. His muscles screamed, his skin blistered from the heat radiating from within. His mind swirled with dizziness, his breaths ragged.
It hurts… but I can't stop… I can't stop!
The final blow came in a desperate upward swing. The staff struck beneath the creature's jaw, snapping its head back. Flames surged up its body, consuming its cracked carapace. The alien thrashed violently, mandibles clattering, before collapsing into a heap of burning ichor.
Silence fell. The only sound was Ryven's ragged breathing and the crackle of dying flames.
His knees buckled. The fire around his staff sputtered and died. He collapsed to the ground, vision swimming, the shard's glow fading back into a dull thrum.
---
Aftermath and Foreshadowing
"Ryven!" Nova was at his side instantly, her blades abandoned. She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. "What the hell was that?!"
He coughed, every breath like fire in his lungs. "…I… I don't know. The shard—it—"
Nova's eyes darted to the smoldering corpse of the alien, then back to him. Her jaw tightened. "You nearly burned yourself alive. Do you realize that?"
He tried to smile, weak and trembling. "…But… I saved you."
Her anger faltered, replaced by a mixture of relief and frustration. She exhaled sharply, resting her forehead briefly against his. "Idiot. Don't make me watch you die like that again."
Together, with great effort, she helped him back toward the village. The body of the alien was left behind, charred and twisted, but its presence could not be hidden.
By dawn, villagers had gathered around the clearing. The elder's face was grim as he examined the corpse. "A scout," he muttered. "If one has come this close, more will follow. And worse."
Ryven stood silently, his body still weak, the shard heavy in his pocket. Every word of the elder only pressed deeper into his mind.
Nova glanced at him, worry flickering behind her sharp eyes. She didn't ask what he felt—she already knew.
That night, as Ryven lay awake staring at the stars, the shard pulsed faintly in his palm.
Above him, beyond the veil of night, the fracture widened. Alien forces stirred, their whispers echoing through the void. They had felt the shard awaken. And they were coming.