The Hollow Wilds felt quieter after the Obelisk was sealed, yet Ryan couldn't shake the weight pressing on his chest. Every step back through the jungle made him more aware of the shard's presence — no longer just a pulse, but a constant rhythm in tune with his heartbeat.
At first, he thought it was easing. By the time they reached the stone outcropping where they'd camped, he realized it wasn't silence at all. It was whispering.
Not words… not yet. Just fragments, a song half-remembered.
He forced himself to ignore it as they set camp again. Theron busied himself sharpening his axe with slow, deliberate strokes. Kaelin perched in the branches, scanning the jungle with hawk-like focus. Lyra knelt near the fire, her staff resting across her knees.
Ryan sat apart, the shard's warmth growing hotter against his chest as dusk settled. His eyes drifted to the flames, only to see them shift — curling into shadow, echoing the shape of the Herald's horned head.
He blinked. The vision vanished.
"Still hearing it, aren't you?" Lyra's voice was soft. She hadn't looked away from the fire, but Ryan felt her awareness like a weight.
"Yeah," he admitted. "It's like it's alive. Like it wants something."
Lyra finally met his gaze. Her eyes glowed faintly in the firelight. "That's because it does. The shard is not inert power. It remembers. It waits. And now… it has you."
Her words tightened the knot in his chest. "So what am I supposed to do? Keep pretending it's not there?"
"No," Lyra said. "You're supposed to learn its language. Master resonance before it masters you."
Theron grunted from across the fire. "Sounds like she wants you to dance with fire until it stops burning you."
Ryan forced a weak laugh. "Feels like that already."
Kaelin dropped down from the branches, silent as falling leaves. "And what happens when he can't? What happens when it breaks him instead?"
Her eyes locked on Ryan, sharp as an arrow. He saw no malice there, only fear. Fear for him, and maybe fear of him.
Ryan clenched his fists. "Then I don't let it break me. I've been broken before. This time I get back up stronger."
Kaelin studied him a moment longer, then gave a single nod. "We'll see."
---
The next days blurred into training.
Lyra led him to a cliffside clearing where the trees opened to sky. The wind carried the scent of rain and wildflowers, but Ryan had no time to admire it.
"Close your eyes," Lyra instructed.
Ryan obeyed.
"Feel the shard. Not as a weight or a wound, but as an instrument. Your aura is the musician. The shard is the string. Strike too hard, and it snaps. Too soft, and it doesn't sing."
Ryan inhaled, focusing. He let his aura flow, golden-red like firelight, wrapping around the shard's pulse. For a moment, the rhythm matched. He felt strength surge, clearer and brighter than ever. His flame responded, flaring higher, sharper.
But then the whispering returned. Louder this time.
We burned the skies. We broke the world. You are us. You are fire unending.
The vision came unbidden — fire raining from the heavens, warriors of shadow clashing with titans of flame. And in the center of it all: himself, crowned in fire, eyes glowing with void.
His control slipped. His aura flared wild, scorching the grass around him.
"Ryan!" Lyra's voice cut sharp. A firm hand pressed against his chest, her aura flowing into his like a cool river. "Focus. It's not yours. Not yet. Take it back."
He clenched his jaw, forcing the shard's rhythm to slow. One breath at a time, he pulled the fire inward until the flare dimmed.
When he opened his eyes, sweat dripped from his brow. The clearing smoked.
"Again," Lyra said simply.
And so it went.
Each day he pushed further. Sometimes he succeeded, weaving shard resonance into his aura to sharpen his flames, strengthen his strikes, or heighten his senses. Sometimes he failed, falling to his knees as visions consumed him.
But each failure left him stronger. Each success burned brighter.
---
At night, the dreams came.
He saw the crowned warrior again, wielding twin blades of light and shadow. He saw the Heralds kneeling before a vast gate, their forms dissolving into rivers of void. He saw a throne carved of broken stars — empty, waiting.
And he heard the same words, clearer now:
Child of twin blood. You are the echo. You are the spark. You are the end.
Ryan woke in a cold sweat, heart hammering.
---
On the fifth night, Kaelin found him awake by the fire, staring at his hands as faint sparks danced across his palms.
"You're burning yourself out," she said, sitting across from him.
He shook his head. "I can't stop. Every time I slow down, it feels like it pulls harder. Like it wants to drag me under."
Kaelin studied him quietly, then leaned forward. "I was wrong about you."
Ryan blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I thought you were just a kid with power you didn't deserve. Another fool who'd get himself killed and drag others with him." Her gaze softened slightly. "But you fight it. Harder than most would. That… matters."
Ryan felt a faint smile tug his lips. "Thanks. I think."
She smirked faintly, then stood. "Don't thank me yet. Prove me right."
---
The breakthrough came two days later.
Lyra had him stand in the clearing again, eyes closed, aura steady. "This time, don't resist the shard. Let it speak. Let it show you. And instead of fighting… answer."
The shard's pulse rose. The whispers surged into words.
We are fire. We are void. We are everything you are not. You cannot deny us.
Ryan clenched his fists. "Maybe I can't deny you. But I'm not just fire. I'm not just void. I'm me. Ryan James Osborne. And I'll decide what I am."
His aura flared. The shard's light pulsed in rhythm — but this time, it didn't overwhelm. It harmonized. For a fleeting moment, shard and aura sang together, a resonance that shook the clearing.
Flames erupted around him, but they did not scorch. They danced, golden and blue, twining like living things.
Lyra's eyes widened. "You did it. True resonance."
Ryan opened his eyes, flame still burning along his arms. The shard was quiet now. Not silent, but listening.
For the first time, he felt in control.
And for the first time… he knew the war was only beginning.