The hum pulsed in Soren's ears, sharper now, as if the Fractured Lands themselves were grieving. He stood in Eldridge's shattered square, the air heavy with the Griefbeast's lingering rot. Shadows stirred in the woods, dozens of eyes gleaming—a horde of Echoes, their sorrow a chorus threatening to drown him. His chest tightened, the faint chill of Corruption still whispering within, a reminder of his new power. I'm not weak anymore, he told himself, but the thought felt fragile against the oncoming threat.
Veyra's runic armor glinted under the moonlight, her sword drawn. "Soren, move!" Her voice was steel, her Wolf Echo prowling beside her, its spectral form shimmering with courage-forged light. The villagers huddled behind barrels and broken carts, Lila among them, her braid swaying as she gripped her club, eyes locked on Soren. "Stay alive," she'd mouthed earlier. He clung to that.
The woods erupted. Three Ragehounds burst forth—Echoes of raw anger, their forms canine but twisted, with jagged fangs and molten-red eyes. Their snarls vibrated the cobblestones, fury feeding their size. Veyra's Wolf lunged, tackling one, claws sparking against its hide. "Flank them!" she shouted, slicing another's leg, but the third hound charged Soren.
His Shadow Echo flared, crimson eyes blazing. Instinct took over. He dodged, the hound's jaws snapping inches from his face, its breath hot with rage like a furnace. The hum surged, guiding his Echo's claws to rake the beast's flank, drawing a howl. Pain stabbed his chest—Corruption's chill deepening—but strength surged, his Bone Armor trait hardening his skin.
Veyra dispatched her hound, its form dissolving into wisps. "Focus, Unbound!" she barked, her Wolf pinning the second. Soren's Echo struck again, but the Ragehound reformed, its eyes molten pools. I can't keep this up. The hum wavered, his grief mixing with the village's fear, threatening to overwhelm him.
A shout broke his focus. Lila swung her club at a stray tendril from a lingering Griefbeast, protecting a child. "Soren, help her!" Veyra yelled. He ran, his Echo slashing the tendril, freeing Lila. She nodded, breathless, her eyes fierce with pride and fear. "Go," she whispered, shoving the child toward safety.
The last Ragehound lunged. Soren and Veyra moved as one—her Wolf biting its neck, his Shadow slicing its core. The beast wailed, collapsing into ash. Silence fell, heavy and fleeting. Soren's knees buckled, the hum quieting, but his Corruption Risk ticked higher in his mind: 20%.
Veyra sheathed her sword, wincing at her gashed arm. "You're raw, but you've got fight. The Citadel will sharpen you." She glanced at the woods, mist swirling. "We leave at dawn. Pack light."
"Lila," Soren said, turning to her. "I—"
"Don't." Her voice was soft but firm, her braid catching the lantern's glow. "You're not running from this. Not from her." Her—his mother's memory, the guilt tying him to Eldridge. Lila's hand brushed his, brief but warm. "Come back stronger."
Dawn broke gray and cold. Soren packed a satchel—bread, a knife, his mother's old pendant, its weight a quiet ache. The hum lingered, softer now, but ever-present. Veyra waited at the village edge, her horse snorting. "No goodbyes," she said. "They make you weak."
The journey to the Citadel took two days, the Fractured Lands stretching endless—cracked earth, glowing ruins, air thick with unseen sorrow. Veyra spoke little, her Wolf Echo scouting ahead. Soren's Shadow stirred restlessly, its crimson eyes flickering in his peripheral vision. What am I becoming?
The Citadel loomed on the horizon, a fortress of ancient stone carved with glowing teal runes, its spires piercing a stormy sky. It was both refuge and prison, a place where Sentinels forged warriors to fight Echoes. Veyra led him through iron gates, past armored guards whose emotions—discipline, doubt, pride—hummed in Soren's mind.
Inside, the training grounds buzzed. Recruits sparred, their Echoes clashing—flames, blades, spectral beasts. Two figures approached. Kai, a lean 19-year-old with glasses and a worn journal, gave a curt nod. His curiosity was sharp, but a hidden edge pricked Soren's senses. Mira, 17, with long hair and gentle eyes, radiated calm. Her Lightveil Echo, a faint golden shimmer, soothed the hum slightly. "You're the Unbound," she said, her voice soft but steady. "Welcome."
Veyra gestured to a stone arena. "Test him," she told Kai and Mira. "He's raw, but he's ours."
Kai smirked, his Echo—a spectral owl with piercing blue eyes—materializing. "Let's see what grief can do." Mira hesitated, her Lightveil glowing brighter. "Don't break him, Kai."
The arena was a blur of stone and runes. Kai's owl dove, its talons sharp with intellect-fueled precision. Soren's Shadow countered, claws meeting talons in a burst of sparks. The hum roared, grief and adrenaline mixing. Soren dodged, but Kai's owl was relentless, grazing his shoulder. Pain flared, his Corruption Risk spiking: 25%. Too fast.
Mira's Lightveil swept in, a golden wave easing his pain. "Focus," she said, her eyes kind but firm. Soren nodded, his Shadow striking harder, forcing Kai's owl back. The scholar adjusted his glasses, a faint rune in his journal catching Soren's eye—a mark that didn't belong. What's he hiding?
"Enough!" Veyra called. Kai's owl vanished, and Mira's Lightveil faded. "You're not hopeless, Soren. But you're volatile. Train, or you'll break."
That night, in the Citadel's barracks, Soren lay on a cot, the hum a dull ache. His status flickered:
Name: Soren Vey
Echo Affinity: Grief (Tier 1 - Volatile)
Resonance Points: 35/100
Skills: Emotional Echo (Passive), Shadow Slash (Active)
Traits: Bone Armor (+15% Defense)
Corruption Risk: 25%
What's this power costing me? The chill in his chest grew, whispering of shadows deeper than grief. Kai's journal nagged at him, its rune a puzzle. Mira's kindness lingered, her Lightveil a contrast to Lila's fierce loyalty back home. I'm not running, he vowed, but doubt crept in.
A scream tore through the Citadel. Soren bolted upright, the hum spiking. Shadows moved outside, not human—Echoes, their eyes gleaming red in the dark. Veyra burst in, sword drawn. "Breach! Get up! The Citadel's under attack."
Soren grabbed his knife, his Shadow stirring. This is what I'm here for. But the hum whispered a darker truth: Something's wrong inside these walls.