The soft glow of dawn crept into the village square, illuminating the destruction wrought by the Shadow Marked. The villagers had spent the night clearing rubble and extinguishing lingering embers. Though the battle had ended, unease hung in the air like an oppressive fog.
Kael stood at the edge of the square, watching the villagers work. He adjusted the strap of his sword, the shard’s presence beneath his tunic a constant reminder of his growing connection to it.
“Kael.”
The voice was frail but carried a weight that demanded attention. He turned to see Elder Theryn, the oldest resident of the village, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane. His eyes, clouded with age, still held a spark of sharpness.
“Elder,” Kael said, inclining his head. “You should be resting. The fight’s over.”
“For now,” Theryn replied, his voice measured. “But battles are like weeds. Cut one down, and others grow in its place. Walk with me.”
---
Scene 1: A Walk Through the Ruins
The two men walked slowly through the village. Theryn’s steps were unsteady, but his presence commanded respect. He gestured to the charred remains of a home.
“Do you know how old this village is, Kael?” Theryn asked.
Kael shook his head. “No. I grew up farther south.”
“Nearly two centuries,” Theryn said. “It’s seen famine, war, and pestilence. But it endures because the people here know when to embrace change and when to stand firm.”
Kael frowned. “And what does that have to do with me?”
Theryn stopped, turning to face Kael. “Everything. You carry something that doesn’t belong in a place like this. That shard… its history is darker than you realize.”
Kael’s hand instinctively moved to the shard beneath his shirt. “What do you know about it?”
---
Scene 2: The Shard’s Origin
Theryn gestured for Kael to sit with him on a fallen log near the village well. The elder’s voice lowered as he spoke, as if fearing the words themselves.
“The shard is no ordinary artifact,” Theryn began. “It is a fragment of the Protocol, an ancient device created in a time before recorded history. Legends speak of its power to elevate mortals to gods—or to destroy them.”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “I’ve heard similar stories, but they’re just that. Stories.”
Theryn shook his head. “Stories hold truth, Kael. The Protocol was not a gift. It was a weapon, forged during the Sundering—a war so devastating that entire civilizations were erased. Those who wielded its power were consumed by it, twisted into something less than human but far more dangerous.”
Kael looked away, his thoughts racing. “If it’s so dangerous, why was it left behind? Why not destroy it?”
“Because some believed it could be tamed,” Theryn said. “But you’ve seen its nature firsthand. That power does not bend easily. It bends you.”
---
Scene 3: A Personal Warning
Kael rose to his feet, pacing. “I didn’t ask for this, Theryn. The shard... it chose me. If I’m stuck with it, I’ll learn to control it.”
Theryn sighed, his expression weary. “You speak like a soldier, always thinking of battles to win. But this isn’t a war you can fight with steel. The shard will test you—not just your strength but your will, your humanity.”
Kael turned, his voice tinged with frustration. “What would you have me do? Give it up? Let the Shadow Marked take it and burn the world?”
“No,” Theryn said, his tone firm. “But you must understand the cost. The shard’s power doesn’t come free. It demands a piece of you—your memories, your emotions, your soul. I’ve seen it before.”
Kael’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
The elder hesitated, his gaze distant. “Years ago, a man came to this village carrying a shard like yours. He was noble, strong-willed, determined to use its power for good. But over time, the shard changed him. He grew colder, more ruthless. One day, he vanished, leaving only destruction in his wake.”
---
Scene 4: A Seed of Doubt
Kael sat down again, the weight of Theryn’s words sinking in. “You’re saying I’ll end up like him?”
“I’m saying it’s possible,” Theryn replied. “Unless you find a way to anchor yourself—to remember who you are.”
Kael clenched his fists. “I won’t let it happen. I’ll control it.”
Theryn placed a hand on Kael’s shoulder, his touch surprisingly firm. “Then hold fast to what grounds you. The Protocol will show you visions, whisper promises of power. Resist them, Kael. Or you’ll lose yourself.”
Kael nodded, though his mind was heavy with doubt.
---
Scene 5: A Glimpse of Hope
As they returned to the village square, Theryn stopped once more, looking at the villagers rebuilding their homes.
“Do you see them?” he asked. “They’re your anchor. These people look to you not because of your power but because of your heart. Never forget that.”
Kael looked at the villagers—Bran hammering boards into place, Arlyn comforting a child, Lyran watching him from the healer’s hut.
“I won’t,” Kael said quietly. “I’ll protect them. No matter what.”
Theryn nodded, a faint smile breaking through his serious demeanor. “Good. You’ll need that resolve for what’s to come.”
---
Closing Scene: The Shard’s Warning
That night, as Kael lay awake, the shard pulsed faintly beneath his shirt. Its whispers returned, softer this time but no less insistent.
You cannot escape me, it said. Your destiny is already written.
Kael gripped the shard tightly, his voice a low growl. “Then I’ll write my own ending.”
The shard’s light dimmed, as if in acknowledgment—or challenge.
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