The Fractured Ascendant

The Abyssals closed in, their jagged claws scraping against the cracked earth. Their glowing, hate-filled eyes fixed on Kael, who stood frozen in place. Fear churned in his gut, but beneath it was something else—a strange, unfamiliar energy coursing through his body like a second heartbeat.

"Focus," Erythos's voice urged again, calm yet insistent. "The power is yours. Use it."

Kael clenched his fists. He could feel it—raw, untamed energy pulsing through his veins, begging to be unleashed. But how? He had no weapons, no training, no idea what this power even was.

The largest Abyssal lunged, its claws aiming for his throat.

Instinct took over. Kael thrust out his hand, and the crimson mark on his palm flared to life. A surge of violet light exploded outward, colliding with the Abyssal mid-leap. The creature howled as the energy ripped through it, its form unraveling into wisps of black smoke.

Kael stumbled backward, staring at his hand in disbelief. "What was that?"

"A fragment of my power," Erythos said, its voice tinged with satisfaction. "You drew upon it instinctively. But raw instinct will only get you so far. Focus, boy, or the next strike will be your last."

The remaining Abyssals hesitated, their glowing eyes narrowing as if recalculating their prey. Kael's chest heaved, the adrenaline pumping through his body sharper now. He tightened his grip, willing himself to focus on the power inside him.

One of the Abyssals darted forward, faster than the first. Kael sidestepped clumsily, the creature's claws grazing his shoulder. He spun, raising his hand again. This time, he tried to will the energy to the surface. The crimson mark on his hand flared once more, and a jagged lance of violet light shot from his palm, piercing the Abyssal's core.

The creature screeched, collapsing into smoke.

A second Abyssal attacked, flanking him from the side. Kael raised both hands this time, unleashing another burst of energy. It slammed into the creature, but the recoil knocked him off balance. He hit the ground hard, the breath rushing from his lungs.

The remaining Abyssals circled him now, their movements slow and deliberate. They were testing him, waiting for him to falter. Kael gritted his teeth, struggling to his feet.

"You're wasting energy," Erythos said, its voice sharp. "Reckless strikes will drain you faster than the Abyssals can. Control the flow, or you'll burn yourself out."

"Control it?" Kael snapped, his frustration boiling over. "I don't even know how this works!"

"Then learn, quickly."

The largest of the remaining Abyssals roared, charging at him. Kael raised his hand, but this time, he tried to rein in the chaotic surge of energy. He pictured it like a river, forcing it to flow in a single, sharp current. The mark on his hand glowed brighter, and a concentrated blast of energy erupted from his palm.

The Abyssal disintegrated mid-charge, leaving behind only a faint wisp of smoke.

Kael staggered, his body trembling. Sweat dripped down his face, and his vision blurred for a moment. The last Abyssal paused, its glowing eyes fixed on him. For a moment, it seemed to reconsider its attack.

Then it bolted, disappearing into the haze of the Riftlands.

Kael collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving. His body felt like it had been wrung dry, every muscle aching from exertion. The faint glow of the mark on his hand dimmed, though he could still feel the energy simmering beneath his skin.

"Well done," Erythos said, its tone smug. "For a novice."

Kael glared at the shadowy figure. "You call that 'well done'? I nearly died!"

"And yet you didn't," Erythos countered. "You're alive because of me. Remember that."

Kael bit back a retort. The spirit was right—he wouldn't have survived without its power. But that didn't make him trust it.

"What now?" Kael asked, forcing himself to stand. "Those things will come back. Or worse."

Erythos tilted its head. "You're learning. There's no safety here, boy. Not in the Riftlands. If you want to survive, you'll need more than raw power. You'll need knowledge."

Kael frowned. "Knowledge of what?"

"The Veil," Erythos said, its crimson eyes gleaming. "Its secrets. Its weaknesses. Its purpose. Everything the Veilborn have hidden from you."

Kael's heart skipped a beat. The Veil was a mystery even to the scholars of the inner territories. It was said to be the barrier that protected their world from the Abyss, the source of all life and mana. But if Erythos was a fragment of the Veil itself, as it claimed, then perhaps it knew the truth.

"Why would you tell me that?" Kael asked, narrowing his eyes. "What do you get out of this?"

Erythos's smile was sharp and cold. "Because our fates are intertwined, boy. Your survival ensures my own. And because I am tired of being shackled."

Kael hesitated. He didn't trust the spirit, but he had no choice. The villagers had cast him out, the Abyssals hunted him, and now he was trapped in the Riftlands with only Erythos for guidance.

"Fine," Kael said. "But if you're lying—"

"Spare me your threats," Erythos interrupted, its tone dismissive. "Come. There is much to learn, and little time to waste."

Kael clenched his fists, glancing toward the horizon. The Riftlands stretched out before him, an endless expanse of desolation and danger. He didn't know what lay ahead, but one thing was certain.

There was no turning back now.