The Chronicles Of Eternity

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The journey east began with silence. Not the peaceful kind, but the heavy, expectant hush that came before storms. The road was no road at all—just a fractured path of dirt, moss-covered stones, and ancient tree roots, winding through forgotten woods and broken hills.

Kael walked at the front, his cloak drawn tightly, the fragment of Aunnex pressing warm against his chest. Behind him, Lira marched with quiet vigilance, her eyes scanning every tree and shadow. Alfred brought up the rear, massive frame calm, but always watchful. Rye darted ahead, quick-footed and eager, occasionally doubling back with small grins or odd jokes that rarely landed but eased the weight of travel.

They trekked for days, through biting cold mornings and humid afternoons. Water was scarce. Food, scarcer. They shared small bites of dried meat, foraged berries, and what little they could gather from the land.

And then came the beasts.

The first was a stalking horror—bone-thin and long-legged, with sunken glowing eyes that shimmered in the fog. It attacked in the dead of night.

Kael barely had time to unsling his dagger before it lunged.

Alfred intercepted the beast with a roar, his shield absorbing the brunt of its weight. Lira struck its flank with a clean slash. Kael called upon the shard, its silver glow flaring just in time to blind the creature.

It took all four of them to bring it down.

The second creature came two days later—a winged serpent with scales like iron and a scream that shattered glass. They fought it atop a ridge, where the wind howled and footing was treacherous.

Rye was nearly thrown over the edge.

Kael hurled a pulse of energy from Aunnex's shard, blasting a hole in the creature's wing. Lira leapt from a rock and drove her sword down through its spine. It screeched and crumbled.

By the end of the week, their clothes were torn, their bodies bruised, and their spirits strained. But they had survived.

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Far behind them, in the once-quiet village of Hallowrest, the storm they left behind was about to break.

At dusk, the ground trembled with the approach of warhorses. A battalion rode into the village—dozens strong, clad in dark iron and bone-white cloaks marked with the sigil of the Dominion. At their helm rode Commander Marrek—a cold-eyed brute whose reputation stretched far across the fractured realms.

The villagers paused their evening routines, watching silently as the soldiers filled the square.

"Where is he?" Marrek asked, his voice like broken stone.

Elder Mava stepped forward, spine straight despite her years. "Gone. Left days ago."

Marrek's lips twitched. "Then you've wasted my time."

A soldier lit a torch. Others followed.

"Stop this," Mava warned. "These people have done nothing."

Marrek dismounted slowly. "They gave him shelter. That is enough."

With a wave of his hand, the village became an inferno.

Flames leapt from rooftops. Smoke swallowed the stars. Screams echoed as homes burned, animals fled, and families scattered. The soldiers didn't speak—they simply destroyed.

Mava stood unmoved until the flames reached her robes. Only then did she kneel and whisper a name to the wind: "Kael."

---

Miles away, Kael's group had just crested a mountain trail when Rye gasped and pointed to the sky.

Smoke.

A thick black column rising far in the distance—right where Hallowrest should have been.

Kael's heart dropped. "No…"

Lira turned sharply, face pale. "They found it."

Rye's voice cracked. "The villagers—"

Then the thunder of hooves.

A scout party.

Six riders, cloaked in Dominion black, burst through the forest trail behind them. Shouts rang out. Blades gleamed.

Alfred turned his horse. "Ride!"

They galloped, hooves pounding the mountain path. Trees whipped by in a blur, and the wind tore at their cloaks. The path narrowed to a ledge, with sheer drops on one side and thick woods on the other.

Arrows sliced through the air.

One grazed Kael's shoulder. Another struck Rye's saddle, nearly toppling him.

"We won't outrun them," Lira shouted. "We have to fight!"

"Not here!" Alfred roared. "We need better ground!"

They veered off the trail into a forested hollow—a bowl-shaped glade ringed with rock and thick roots. They slid from their saddles, breathless.

The scouts entered moments later.

Six riders. Blades drawn. Cruel smiles beneath black helmets.

"Dead or alive," one said. "Your choice."

Kael stepped forward, blood trickling down his arm. He touched Aunnex's shard beneath his shirt. It pulsed like a heartbeat.

"We've made ours," he said.

The fight erupted.

Alfred blocked two blades with his shield, his hammer rising like thunder to crush one scout's chestplate. Lira moved like wind, ducking low and striking fast, her blade dancing.

Rye stayed behind Kael, throwing stones and daggers with surprising accuracy. Kael focused the shard's power, sending blinding arcs of light that knocked weapons from hands.

But the scouts were trained.

One drove a sword into Alfred's thigh. Another clipped Lira's side. Kael staggered under a brutal punch and fell to one knee.

Two scouts closed in on Rye.

"Rye!" Kael shouted.

He raised his hand.

The shard flared.

Suddenly changing form into a sword....whose shape looked nothing like any weapon made by any of the clans.

It glowed with divine energy.

Kael swung the sword with precision...as if reaching out to memories long lost.

A wave of force exploded outward, hurling the attackers back into the trees. The forest trembled. Birds fled. Silence followed.

Four scouts lay broken.

Two crawled away.

Kael limped toward them. "Tell your commander: I'm not what he thinks. And I won't run anymore."

They fled, bloodied and gasping.

---

At the Dominion war camp, the remaining scouts arrived at Marrek's tent, crawling.

The commander listened to their tale—of light, of loss, of failure.

Then he drew his blade.

The scouts' screams did not echo long.

Marrek turned to his lieutenants. "Prepare the legion. If he wants to test fate, then we will show him what extinction looks like."

---

Kael stood beneath a tree, panting. His clothes were torn. His face was streaked with blood and sweat.

Lira leaned against a rock, holding her side. "They'll keep coming."

Kael looked down at the shard, which had changed form back to what it was. "Then we keep moving."

Rye sat silently nearby, staring toward the smoke on the horizon. "We couldn't save them."

"No," Alfred said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But we'll make sure they didn't die for nothing."

Kael raised his head. "We're not running anymore. We find the next shard. We face what's coming. Together."

They saddled their horses.

And as the sun sank behind the burning sky, the journey continued.

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