The world refused to stay still.
The ground tilted beneath me, swaying like a ship in violent waters. Colors smeared across the air—gold, black, crimson—none of them belonging to the natural world. My breath hitched in my throat as the whispers crawled deeper into my skull, weaving threads of shadow through my thoughts.
Lysara's hands gripped my shoulders, firm but trembling.
"Eryndor, look at me. Focus. Anchor yourself."
Anchor myself? The fragments pulsed like living hearts in my palms, each beat syncing with the whispers that kept chanting—
"Break… ascend… consume…"
My voice cracked. "I—I can't keep them quiet…"
Lysara leaned closer, her forehead touching mine, wings curving around us like a fragile cocoon. "You must. If the fracture deepens, the fragments will begin shaping your mind. Your choices. Your identity."
I swallowed. "So Kaelith wasn't lying."
She hesitated—a silence more revealing than any words.
"No," she whispered. "He wasn't."
The admission chilled me more than the whispers ever had.
Suddenly, the ground quaked. My vision blurred, but I managed to lift my head. The battlefield stones warped, folding inward to form a circular pattern—an ancient seal glowing faint silver.
A ripple of energy surged outward.
And a figure stepped forth.
Not a god.
Not a mortal.
Something… in-between.
A tall man draped in tattered ceremonial robes, silver inscriptions running across his arms like cracks in marble. His hair floated weightlessly, as though submerged in water. His eyes—empty white—held an eerie calm.
Lysara gasped. "A Herald…"
The figure's voice carried like echoes in a vast cavern.
"Bearer of fragments… step forward."
Every instinct screamed to run.
The whispers urged me to kneel.
I did neither.
My legs wobbled as I stood, each breath heavy with the fragments' weight. "What… do you want?"
The Herald tilted his head slowly, as if analyzing my very soul.
"You have bound multiple divine shards without guidance."
"You have resisted corruption beyond mortal limits."
"And now… the fracture within you has awakened."
His gaze sharpened.
"So we have come to test your right to continue living."
Lysara lunged forward. "No! He isn't ready!"
The Herald raised a hand—and she froze in place mid-motion, suspended in the air, wings locked.
"Lysara!" I reached for her, but the Herald's presence pressed against my chest like gravity itself.
"The gods observe him. Interference is forbidden."
The whispers flared, urging me to unleash the fragments—
to incinerate him with flame,
to drown him in water,
to blot him out with shadow,
to sear him with clarity.
"Break him…"
"Show your power…"
"Ascend…"
My hand trembled.
The Herald stepped closer.
"Eryndor, bearer of the Shattered Sky… demonstrate control."
A circle of runes flared beneath me. The fragments pulsed so violently they blurred into streaks of color.
The Herald formed a spear of pure energy, its edge humming with finality.
"Endure the spear… or be erased."
My heartbeat exploded in my ears.
"Are you insane?" I shouted. "That'll kill me!"
"Only if you fail."
The spear shot forward—blinding, effortless, aimed straight for my heart.
The whispers screamed—
Lysara screamed—
My instincts screamed—
But something deeper than instinct took over.
Not rage.
Not fear.
Not the whispers.
Something… clearer.
Time slowed.
My hands moved on their own.
Flame ignited.
Water coiled.
Shadow bent.
Clarity sharpened.
Four fragments sang together—not in harmony, but in defiance.
I thrust both palms forward.
A sphere of mixed divine force erupted outward, brilliant and unstable, colliding with the Herald's spear. The impact split the air with a deafening crack. Light swallowed everything.
When the blaze faded, I stood panting, chest burning, hands shaking violently. The spear lay shattered at my feet.
The Herald stared.
Expressionless… yet undeniably surprised.
"Impossible," he murmured.
"A mortal… balancing four shards without collapse."
He lowered his hand.
The runes faded.
Lysara fell to the ground, free again, gasping for breath.
The Herald stepped back, robes stirring in an ethereal breeze.
"Very well. You have… passed."
My vision swam—but I stayed upright.
"Know this, Eryndor."
"Your fracture will deepen. The whispers will grow. The gods will watch."
"And soon… your choices will shape more than your fate."
His body dissolved into silver dust.
The light faded.
Silence returned.
But not peace.
I collapsed to my knees, heart hammering, fragments burning under my skin.
Lysara rushed to my side. "Eryndor—are you hurt?"
I shook my head weakly.
"No."
My voice was hollow, breathless.
"But something inside me… is changing."
The whispers purred in satisfaction.
"Yes… change…"
"Break…"
"Ascend…"
Lysara's face tightened with fear.
"Your fracture… it's widening."
And deep inside, beneath fear, beneath exhaustion—
I felt it too.
A shift.
A crack.
A subtle surrender.
And the terrifying part?
It didn't feel like losing control.
It felt like gaining it.