The Shards of Fate

Aedan sat on the cold stone floor, his breathing ragged. The room still pulsed with lingering energy, the air heavy with the remnants of whatever had just happened. The darkness had retreated, but its presence still clung to the corners of the chamber like an unwelcome specter.

Kael wiped a trickle of blood from his forehead, his sword still clutched tightly in his grip. "Well... that was new."

Aedan let out a shaky breath, glancing down at the shard in his hand. The glow had faded, but the warmth still remained—a quiet pulse, as if the thing were alive. Whatever it had done, it had saved them.

Kael nudged Aedan with his boot. "You gonna sit there all night, or are we getting the hell out of here?"

Aedan forced himself to his feet, his body protesting every movement. His muscles ached, his mind reeled, but he had no choice but to move forward. "Yeah... Let's go."

They turned toward the door, but before they could leave, something caught Aedan's eye. Where the figure had once stood, there was now a small black mark, a scorch in the shape of a strange symbol. It was different from the one in the main hall—more jagged, more chaotic. The moment Aedan's eyes landed on it, a sharp pain stabbed through his head.

His vision blurred.

A voice, deep and guttural, slithered into his mind.

You are not ready.

Aedan stumbled, clutching his head as the words echoed through his skull. His vision swam—he saw flashes of something impossible. A great chasm, filled with writhing shadows. A tower stretching beyond the sky, surrounded by storms of black fire. And eyes. Countless eyes, watching him from the abyss.

You are not ready.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the vision vanished.

"Aedan?" Kael's voice cut through the haze. He was gripping Aedan's shoulder, his brow furrowed with concern.

Aedan swallowed hard, steadying himself. "I'm fine." He wasn't.

Kael didn't look convinced but didn't press. "Let's get out of here before something else decides to show up."

They left the chamber quickly, stepping back into the main hall. The eerie silence of the village still hung over them like a funeral shroud. Even as they made their way toward the inn, Aedan's mind was still racing.

That voice. That vision.

Something was watching him.

Back at the inn, the old woman was waiting. She sat in the corner of the dimly lit room, staring at the dying embers of the fireplace. When Aedan and Kael entered, she didn't look up.

"You met him," she murmured.

Aedan stiffened. "Who?"

The woman exhaled slowly, as if the weight of the world rested on her frail shoulders. "The thing that lurks in the abyss."

Aedan and Kael exchanged glances before stepping closer.

"You knew," Kael accused, crossing his arms. "You knew something was down there."

The old woman chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "Of course, child. I have lived long enough to know when something does not belong." She turned to Aedan, her pale eyes gleaming in the firelight. "And you... you carry its mark now."

Aedan's breath hitched. "What does that mean?"

"It means," she said, "that your journey has only just begun."

She motioned for them to sit. Aedan hesitated before lowering himself into the chair across from her. Kael remained standing, his arms crossed but his expression tense.

"What was that thing?" Aedan asked, gripping his hands together to keep them from shaking.

The old woman's gaze darkened. "A servant of the Abyss. One of many. They seek the shards—just as you do."

Aedan felt a cold dread creep up his spine. "Why?"

The woman studied him for a long moment before speaking. "Because the shards are not mere relics. They are pieces of something far greater. Something that was never meant to be broken."

Aedan's heart pounded. "And what happens if they're put back together?"

The woman's lips curled into a sad smile. "Then, my dear boy... we will all come to understand why they were shattered in the first place."

The fire crackled, the embers glowing like distant stars.

Aedan sat back, his mind reeling. The shards. The Abyss. The thing that had spoken to him.

He wasn't just caught in something dangerous.

He was at the center of it.

And he had no idea if he would survive what came next.

Aedan sat motionless, staring into the fire. The weight of the old woman's words pressed down on him, suffocating in its implications. The shards weren't just artifacts. They weren't mere tools of power.

They were pieces of something.

Something that should have remained broken.

Kael, ever the skeptic, scoffed. "That's vague as hell. You're telling me all this—monsters, cults, whatever that thing was down there—it's all because of some ancient puzzle?"

The woman's gaze didn't waver. "You mock what you do not understand, boy. That arrogance will cost you one day."

Kael scowled but didn't retort.

Aedan, still trying to process everything, clenched the shard in his palm. "If the Abyss wants these pieces... then what happens if someone gathers all of them?"

The woman closed her eyes. "Then the seal will break."

Silence.

Aedan's throat felt dry. He didn't want to ask. He really didn't want to ask. But he had to.

"What's being sealed?"

The old woman finally opened her eyes. There was no amusement now, no cryptic smirk—only something deep, hollow, and filled with fear.

"The thing that should never wake."

A chill settled in Aedan's bones.

Kael scoffed, but there was an unease in his voice. "Right. And what? This thing is just sitting in the Abyss, waiting for someone stupid enough to put the pieces together?"

The old woman nodded. "Precisely."

Aedan exhaled slowly. His thoughts raced, trying to make sense of everything. "And what about me?" He glanced at the woman. "You said I carry its mark now."

The old woman's lips pressed into a thin line. "Tell me, boy... did it speak to you?"

Aedan hesitated. His pulse quickened as he remembered the voice—deep, guttural, slithering into his mind like ink spilled into water.

You are not ready.

He swallowed. "Yes."

The woman's expression darkened. "Then you are bound to it now."

Aedan's stomach twisted. "Bound how?"

"There are those who stumble upon the Abyss and walk away untouched. And then there are those who hear its voice." The old woman leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper. "Once you hear it, it never leaves you. It watches. It waits."

Aedan's breath came shorter now. "For what?"

She held his gaze.

"For the moment when you will break."

The fire crackled. Kael muttered a curse under his breath, rubbing his temples. "Great. So Aedan's cursed now. That's just perfect."

Aedan barely heard him. His mind was spinning. If that was true, if something was watching him—waiting for him to break—then what the hell was he supposed to do?

He looked down at the shard in his palm. The warmth was still there, a steady pulse against his skin.

Was it protecting him?

Or was it feeding off him?

A chair scraped against the wooden floor as the old woman stood. "You should leave by morning."

Aedan frowned. "Why?"

She glanced toward the window. Outside, the night pressed against the glass like a living thing.

"Because now that you've touched the Abyss, it will not let you rest."

A sudden gust of wind rattled the shutters, and the fire dimmed for a moment, casting long, stretching shadows across the walls.

Aedan shivered.

He had the sinking feeling that she was right.