He closed his eyes. He could almost hear it again—his father's voice.

  “Only someone with a purpose can wield the shard. Once you find yours, my son… then you’ll be ready.”

  That night had started like any other.

  His village sat in a remote valley, hidden deep within the Althean mountains. The nearest town was a month’s journey by foot, and most travelers never even knew it existed.

  They liked it that way.

  For generations, his people had watched over two ancient relics—artifacts they believed no one should possess.

  The first was the shard: a glowing, storm-humming crystal fragment that his father alone knew how to wield. He’d seen it once light up the sky when a dire beast threatened the village’s livestock.

  The second… he had never seen.

  It was locked in a sealed stone chamber beneath the elder’s hall. Guarded by iron bands, ancient runes, and a single phrase etched above the threshold in a language older than kingdoms:

  “What is sealed must not be stirred.”

  When he once asked his father what was inside, his father’s face darkened.

  “Not for us. Not for anyone.”

  That was the end of that conversation—and the only time his father ever raised his voice to him.

  He had just laid down to sleep that night. The wind was louder than usual, slamming his window open and shut with relentless force. He got up twice to latch it.

  Then the thunder began.

  Not in the sky—but in the ground.

  Then came the boom—a sudden, bone-shaking crack that split the stillness in half. Flames appeared at the edge of the village.

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  He threw open the shutters.

  “What’s happening?!”

  Men in black armor swarmed through the streets, bearing a strange insignia: a circle, with a spear at its center—twisted with a serpent.

  They moved with deadly precision, cutting down anyone who resisted. Children screamed. Mothers clutched their families. Fire lit up the homes like lanterns of despair.

  He ran into the street, dodging panicked villagers.

  Then he saw him—his father, on the ground beside a tall figure cloaked in shadow. The darkness around the man writhed like smoke, clinging to his body. The earth beneath him blackened as though reality itself was pulling away.

  “Daaaaad!” he screamed, running toward him.

  But something strange happened.

  They captured the others. Children. Women. Elders. The men who fought were struck down on sight.

  Yet for some reason, they didn’t kill his father.

  They rounded the survivors up on a grassy hill. Steel cuffs snapped shut on wrists—except for the youngest, whose hands were too small. He could still move. Still crawl. Still escape.

  Some of the mothers whispered to their children in trembling voices:

  “Run. Don’t look back.”

  One mother pressed her forehead to her daughter’s and whispered something too quiet to hear—but the boy would never forget the way the little girl’s lip trembled before she bolted into the woods.

  And then—his father.

  Bleeding. Barely breathing. He pulled him close.

  “Go to the shadow man’s tent,” he whispered. “Take the shard. And run.”

  And so he did.

  The guards were distracted. The man in black had stepped away. The tent was open, and the shard—resting on a carved pedestal—shimmered faintly.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  He grabbed it and ran until his feet bled.

  He never looked back.

  All the children fled, their cries echoing until their tears ran dry, each knowing that life would never be the same again. Some were caught, while others vanished into the unknown, fleeing toward a god they didn’t even understand.

  Five years passed.

  He survived by joining the cadet corps of the Elionor Kingdom. Learned to fight. Learned to kill.

  And now…

  He stood on the outskirts of Eryndor’s ruins, where rumors whispered of hooded figures bearing that same insignia gathering under the twin moons.

  His grip tightened around the shard.

  Father must be dead by now. There's no way they let him live…

  He lowered his hood.

  Tonight… they’ll taste their own medicine.

  ? 2025 Damien Shard. All rights reserved. This story and all characters are original creations of the author. Unauthorized reproduction or distribution is prohibited.