The jagged battlefield stretched endlessly, but the wind had grown heavier, carrying a cold whisper that made the fragments pulse in warning. Kaelith had vanished once more, but I knew it was a ruse—he thrived in shadows, feeding on hesitation and doubt.
"He is patient," Lysara said quietly, hovering beside me. "Kaelith knows your limits. He knows the fragments are alive… and he will exploit every weakness he can find."
I could feel it. A subtle tremor in my hands, shadows flickering at the edge of my vision, whispers rising like a tide in my mind: "Use us… abandon restraint… claim power…"
I gritted my teeth. Flame flared to life, water shimmered with tempered precision, shadow bent to reveal hidden threats, and clarity pulsed urgently. The fragments responded—but I felt the toll now, unmistakable. My vision blurred for a heartbeat, fatigue settled deep in my muscles, and a fleeting shadow flickered in my reflection, almost like a warning… or a glimpse of what I could become.
"The fragments are alive," Lysara said softly. "And they hunger. You must resist… or they will reshape you from within."
Kaelith's voice cut across the battlefield, low and mocking: "Do you feel it, mortal? The pull? The whispers? That is power calling to you. Give in… and no one will stand in your way."
I turned sharply, spotting him atop a jagged spire. Shadows swirled around him like living armor, fragments of dark energy he had collected since our last clash. He had grown stronger, more cunning, more dangerous.
"I will not give in," I said firmly, though my voice shook. My grip on the shards tightened, flames licking my palms, water spiraling in a protective flow, shadow twisting like a blade, and clarity cutting through the confusion.
Kaelith descended, shadows striking like lightning. I countered, fragments pulsing with energy, but the effort drained me. Sweat ran down my face; the chill in the air gnawed at my bones. And yet… there was more.
A flicker of movement in the sky—golden light, violet streaks, and something… divine. The fragments pulsed violently, as if acknowledging the presence.
"The gods watch," Lysara whispered, wings trembling. "But not all are your allies. Some test you… some plot against Kaelith… some plot against both. This… is more than a duel. It is part of a larger game."
Kaelith laughed, a low, cruel sound. "Do you feel it, Eryndor? Even the gods' gaze cannot save you. You resist, but for how long? Every choice, every act of restraint… they watch. They judge. And the fragments… they hunger."
The whispers intensified, blending with the wind, the fragments, and my own racing thoughts. For the first time, I felt the corruption stir more visibly: shadows flickered at the corners of my eyes, my pulse throbbed in sync with the fragments, and a fleeting hallucination of myself striking Kaelith down without restraint hovered before me.
"Focus," I muttered, forcing every ounce of willpower into the shards. Flame roared, water shielded, shadow twisted to reveal Kaelith's movements, and clarity pierced the illusions. For a moment, harmony prevailed.
Kaelith staggered, his grin faltering slightly, and the shadows around him twisted in confusion. "You… endure… more than I expected," he hissed. "But the fragments will not be denied forever. And soon… you will face the cost of every choice you have made."
The battlefield shuddered, jagged stones quivering under unseen pressure. The fragments pulsed in my hands, alive and hungry. I was exhausted, shaken, yet still standing.
"This… is only the beginning," Lysara murmured. "Kaelith will return. The gods will intervene. And the fragments… they will demand everything."
I stood amidst the jagged stones, gripping the shards tightly. Shadows flickered around my eyes, whispers rising at the edge of my mind, and I knew the truth: the Age of Gods had grown larger, more dangerous, and infinitely more complex than I had ever imagined.
I was Eryndor, bearer of the Shattered Sky. Mortal, bridge, and now facing not only Kaelith and the fragments, but the subtle, unseen machinations of the gods themselves.
The trials ahead would test not just strength, but endurance, morality, and the very essence of my soul.
And the Shattered Sky… would not forgive weakness.