The Shattered Crowns

P.O.V. Akash 

Grogginess clung to Akash as he wiped his face. Elys, his large feline companion, took it upon himself to wake him with a slobbery lick. Akash groaned, pushing the big cat away.

"Elys, I did not need a bath," he muttered.

The cat padded to the doorway, tail flicking lazily as sunlight began to creep into the small, dimly lit room. Akash followed suit, instinctively gripping the hilt of the sword strapped to his side. His sharp eyes scanned the interior, noting the soft glow of the morning light spilling through the cracks in the wooden walls.

"We should check the traps," Akash said aloud, his voice breaking the silence. "Maybe we'll catch something bigger than rabbits this time."

Light trickled through the canopy, dappling the forest floor with shifting patterns. Akash moved with purpose, the scabbard of his sword swaying lightly at his hip. Elys trailed behind, his pawsteps near silent in the underbrush. Akash swung a water carrier over his back as he made his final preparations. Then, with a practiced motion, he clicked his mask into place. Everything was ready.

The pair headed north, toward a larger pond nestled deep within the woods. The pond's surface lay undisturbed, a perfect mirror of the morning sky. Animals at the water's edge scattered at the sight of Akash and Elys, vanishing into the shadows of the trees. Akash crouched, filling his water pouch as the mask on his face hissed softly, releasing steam in small bursts. The humid air, laden with heat, was an ever-present struggle in Morgoi.

With the essentials handled, it was time to head to the meeting spot.

It didn't take long for Akash and Elys to make their way back to the village. Akash leaned casually against a tree just outside the main square, gnawing on a strip of salted meat while he waited.

"Is it a little too tough for you, Elys?" Akash teased, holding out a piece for the cat.

Elys sniffed at it but turned away, clearly uninterested. Akash chuckled, leaning closer to blow a puff of air in the cat's face.

"Are you ignoring me now?" he asked with mock indignation, pointing accusingly at the animal. "You are!"

A voice interrupted his antics.

"I don't think this is healthy, Akash."

Akash turned to see Mirak approaching, Daenys just behind him. Amusement danced in Mirak's dark eyes as he crossed his arms.

"And what would you know, Mirak?" Akash shot back with a grin. "Do you even own an animal?"

Daenys interjected, her tone brisk. "Maybe instead of arguing with your cat, we could head to the lookout point? Some of us don't have all day."

The boys exchanged a glance before Akash broke into a wide smile.

"Maybe we'll see a Shifter!" he said excitedly.

"I doubt it," Mirak replied, adjusting the straps on his pack. "They hunt in the canopies at night. It's probably resting in its den by now."

Akash slung an arm over Mirak's shoulder, his grin widening. "A bet, then?"

Mirak raised a brow, wary. "What kind of bet?"

"If we see a Shifter," Akash began, "you'll get your mom to cook a meal for Elys and me. If not, I'll share some of the meat I caught last night. Deal?"

Mirak hesitated, his skepticism evident. "The odds of a Shifter appearing are next to nothing, Akash. They only come out when it's dark."

"Exactly," Akash countered. "So you should have no problem taking the deal."

Mirak sighed, shaking his head. "Fine. A free dinner for Daenys and me."

With the terms set, the trio began their trek to the lookout point.

As they walked, Mirak tapped the side of his mask. "Elys might need one of these soon. He's been breathing a little heavier lately."

Akash glanced down at the cat, who padded beside him without issue. "When one of us can outrun him, we'll talk about getting him a mask. Not that it matters—he'd rip it off the first chance he got."

Daenys chimed in, "I doubt we'll need these masks once we leave Morgoi. The merchants always complain about them when they pass through here."

"Good," Mirak said, his tone lighter. "Then I can focus on impressing the Sorceress instead of worrying about masks. Got any ideas?"

"I'm sure all the knowledge you've crammed into your head will impress her," Daenys replied.

Mirak frowned. "No. I need something more. Something that shows her I'm worth her time." He bit his lip, frustration creeping into his voice.

He turned to Akash. "You usually don't hold back your opinion, Akash. What do you think?"

Akash didn't hesitate. "If you want her attention, you have to tell her. Directly."

"I already did," Mirak said, exasperated.

"Did you shout it at the top of your lungs? Did you drop to your knees and tell her that becoming a Sorcerer is the only thing that matters in your life? Or did you just walk away when she said no?" Akash's voice grew sharper. "Someone like her isn't going to think twice about you, or me, or Daenys, unless you make her. So stand tall. Say it again. And again. And again until she has to listen."

The words hung heavily in the air. For once, Akash fell silent, his usual bravado dimmed.

Mirak shook his head. "It's better to back off gracefully and learn from the rejection. She won't take me seriously if I pester her."

Akash stepped closer, jabbing a finger at Mirak. "Do you want it?"

"Yes," Mirak said without hesitation.

"Then claw your way to it. She's probably got a hundred offers just like yours, and you're not going to stand out by being polite. What makes you different is that you want to learn. You're not in this for power or wealth—you're in it because you need to know. That's what makes you special. And if you don't fight for it, she'll never see that."

Mirak looked away, uncertain. Daenys placed a hand on his shoulder, her quiet presence grounding him.

Eventually, their conversation drifted to lighter topics as they neared the lookout point. The thick foliage blocking the way forced Akash to unsheath his sword. With swift, clean movements, he cut through the greenery, revealing the breathtaking expanse of the canyon below.

Daenys stepped to the edge, her snow-white hair catching the wind. She swung her legs over the cliffside, gazing out at the landscape stretching endlessly before them.

"The Untouched Gardens," she whispered.

The canyon yawned before them, a seemingly endless stretch of emerald forest cradled by towering cliffs. To the south, the glimmer of a vast lake broke through the green, its far edge shrouded in mist. Beyond that, the unknown stretched farther than the eye could see.

No one spoke at first, awed by the sight.

The three of them sat in silence, taking in the view. The Untouched Gardens seemed both serene and foreboding, its beauty overshadowed by the haunting tales of what lay hidden within.

"The Untouched Gardens," Daenys whispered again, her voice carrying a mix of awe and trepidation.

The vast canyon stretched before them, an unbroken sea of green. To the south, the shimmering expanse of a lake reflected the sky like a mirror, its edges lost to mist. On either side of the canyon, mountains cloaked in dense forest loomed high, their peaks clawing at the heavens. The jungle below, untouched by human hands, teemed with life—and with danger.

"If someone lived down by the lake," Daenys murmured, "they might think it was a sea. The canyon just… keeps going. It doesn't end."

Yet the silence from the depths was unnatural. No bird calls, no rustle of small animals. The forest below was quiet, suffocatingly so, as though it waited.

None of the villagers dared venture into the Untouched Gardens. The stories were enough to keep them away: monsters lurking in the shadows, corrosive air that even their masks couldn't filter, and the unrelenting humidity that drove explorers to madness. No one who entered ever returned.

Still, the promises of the Gardens were too enticing for some to resist. Legends spoke of treasures beyond imagination. The elixir of life that could reverse age itself. A disk that could create fire so hot it burned even water. A crown that granted visions of the future. And, perhaps the most sought-after of all, a book filled with infinite knowledge of healing herbs and medicines capable of curing any ailment.

Akash stood at the edge of the cliff, the wind tugging at his burgundy hair. His lips stretched into a wide grin as he tilted his head back and laughed, the sound echoing faintly through the canyon.

"This," he said, his voice loud and carefree, "this is why we're alive. Moments like this." He turned and dropped back onto the grass with a thud, arms spread wide as he soaked in the sunlight. "This makes life worth it."

Mirak sat beside Daenys, cracking open a book as always. He turned a page slowly, then asked, "Do you think we'll come back one day and explore the Untouched Gardens?"

Daenys's expression turned serious. "My mother plans to push settlements farther south. This place might not even be here the next time we return. But actually exploring the Untouched Gardens…" She shook her head. "That's a death wish."

Akash waved a hand dismissively. "We'll find another spot. And when we return, we'll be stronger. We'll be able to handle anything."

Daenys humored him with a small smile. "Maybe we'll finally touch the black pillar… or find a settlement of people hidden deep in the jungle. What if we discovered the roosting nest of the Great Shifter?"

Mirak was quiet for a moment, considering her words. Finally, he spoke. "I'd like to map the Shifters' migration routes. There might be a pattern to their movements. If we could understand it, it might help us navigate the Untouched Gardens safely. The best way to do that…" He glanced southward. "…is to observe them. Up close."

The group lapsed into silence again. Daenys stared out at the Gardens, lost in thought. Mirak read quietly, his brow furrowed in concentration. Akash, ever the dreamer, closed his eyes and let the sun warm his skin.

After a while, Daenys broke the silence. "Do you really think we can survive in Lorian?"

"Of course," Akash replied without hesitation.

He sat up, puffing out his chest. "When I step onto a battlefield, my allies will cheer, and my enemies will flee. I'll be the strongest there ever was."

Daenys snorted, unable to hold back her laughter. "The strongest?" she teased. "You don't even know how to hold a sword properly. You've got a long way to go, Akash."

Akash smirked, undeterred. "My hands will end and start wars. And when I've reached the top, I'll climb to the peaks of my mother's homeland and let her memories fly free." He paused, then laughed at his own words.

Despite the absurdity, his infectious energy drew smiles from his friends. The three of them, sitting in a forbidden place, dreaming of impossible futures—it felt almost sacred.

"Swords and knives are the same thing," Akash added with a grin. "One's just a little longer."

Mirak raised an eyebrow. "I'm fairly certain swords are nothing like knives. You're going to hurt yourself if you forget that."

Mirak reached into his satchel and pulled out a small vial of resin. He swirled it thoughtfully, watching the liquid shift and glint in the sunlight. Akash, meanwhile, unsheathed his blade.

Something about the blade mirrored the resin in the vial. The same deep crimson hues seemed to swirl within the sword's steel, moving sluggishly, almost alive.

"The two look awfully similar," Mirak observed.

"I guess so," Akash replied, running his thumb along the flat of the blade.

Raising the sword above his head, Akash brought it down in a smooth arc, slicing cleanly through the trunk of a small tree. The blade cut effortlessly, as though the wood offered no resistance.

Akash grinned, his excitement palpable. "Now this is a sword."

Daenys, not to be outdone, pulled the string of her bow to her cheek. She inhaled deeply, steadying her aim. With a sharp twang, the arrow flew through the air and struck solidly into a distant tree. The thunk echoed through the quiet forest, and a grin stretched across her face.

That was how most of the day passed. Mirak read and observed while Akash and Daenys tested their respective weapons. The hours slipped away unnoticed, the sun inching closer to the horizon, its light dimming as the rings of Lorian blocked its final rays.

By lunchtime, the trio paused to eat.

Daenys opened a small woven basket, revealing neatly packed meals. "Dad made food for all of us while he was fixing a few wagon axles. Nalla even added some sweets."

Mirak took a bite and hummed appreciatively. "Your dad's cooking never disappoints."

Daenys smiled. "Mom always says she married him for his food."

Akash, however, ignored the food. Sweat slicked his face as he continued practicing his swings, the muscles in his arms taut with effort. His movements were growing more refined, each swing smoother than the last.

"Akash," Mirak called, "you should eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Akash replied without stopping. "Give my share to Elys."

The cat's ears perked up at the sound of his name. He padded over to Akash and butted his head against him, pushing him back toward the others.

Daenys frowned, wagging a finger at him. "No! Nalla made these sweets specifically for you, Akash. You're going to eat them, and you're going to like them."

Akash sighed dramatically, finally sliding the blade back into its sheath. "Fine. I'll take a break." Scooping Elys into a playful chokehold, he added, "But if you're going to interrupt me, you're going to be my pillow."

As the sun dipped lower, the three of them lingered at the cliff's edge, enjoying the view and each other's company. But just as the warmth of the moment settled over them, the jungle grew eerily silent.

The stillness was broken by the groaning of trees. Thick, white scales shimmered beneath the canopy, catching the light as they moved. The forest seemed to tremble as something massive stirred within the canyon depths.

The Shifter.

Its serpentine body emerged from the sea of green, curling around tree trunks and crushing them effortlessly under its weight. Glittering white scales reflected the dying sunlight, and its head rose above the treetops, battering bark aside with each movement.

The three of them froze, watching the impossibility before them.

"I told you a Shifter would come!" Akash whispered, his voice trembling with excitement as his grin widened. He took a step forward, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his sword. "It's a sign. Our adventure is going to be incredible."

The Shifter's long, coiled body shimmered in the light, its thick white scales glinting as it slithered through the treetops. The massive creature moved with an eerie grace, each flex of its body bending the jungle to its will. Trees cracked and groaned under its weight, bark splintering and falling like rain. Even as it loomed over them, the Shifter exuded an ethereal beauty, a marvel of both power and mystery.

"Daenys, Mirak, and Akash," Akash continued, his chest swelling with pride. "The Heroes of this Age. It sounds amazing, doesn't it?"

Daenys' eyes didn't leave the Shifter, her expression taut with unease. "Most legendary heroes don't have happy endings, Akash." Her voice wavered, betraying the nerves rattling inside her.

Akash's grin didn't falter. "What future leader doesn't dream of being remembered in the annals of history?"

"The kind that doesn't want to be a leader," Daenys shot back, her tone sharp. But her gaze shifted to Mirak and Akash, and for a moment, her expression softened. They both had such big dreams, aspirations larger than life. But what did she want? To be a leader? To follow?

Mirak broke the silence. His voice was quiet, thoughtful. "Everything I've read about Shifters says they shouldn't exist. They're too massive to sustain themselves. They'd need to consume far more food than what's available to survive." He hesitated, his brow furrowing. "And their migration paths into the Untouched Gardens… they don't make sense either. But they do exist, and they do survive."

Mirak turned to his friends, conviction lighting his features. "If the Shifters can live in these jungles, then maybe we can live in this crazy world. We're in this together, Akash." He stepped forward, placing a hand on Akash's shoulder.

They both looked at Daenys expectantly.

"Two against one, Daenys," Akash said with a lopsided grin, his voice coaxing.

Daenys folded her arms, her mouth drawn into a thin line. "I don't want to be a hero."

"We can't do this without you," Mirak said softly.

Akash joined in, his voice earnest for once. "We need you, Daenys."

Daenys groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Damn it, you two!" She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Fine."

The tension in her shoulders eased as she turned to face the canyon, her voice quieter now. "I want to be the person others can lean on." She paused, her tone resolute. "I'll support you from the back. You can be the Sorcerer and the Blademaster. I'll be the one keeping you both alive."

Akash's grin returned in full force. "Alright. All three of us—together. We'll come back as the Heroes of this Age, and we'll explore the Untouched Gardens."

"It's a promise," Daenys whispered.

Mirak nodded, his chest tightening as the weight of that promise sank in. It was a goal so far beyond their reach it felt absurd to even imagine. Being a Sorcerer was difficult enough. To be one of the Heroes of an Age…

The title was reserved for the greatest of legends, the individuals who reshaped Lorian itself. Only four Heroes existed in any given Age—beings who transcended their mortal bounds and etched their names into history forever. Most of their names were lost to time, yet their achievements were eternal.

Entire volumes were written about them: the Four Heroes of the Age of Souls, seated on marble thrones. The Age of Unmoving Sun, when time itself seemed frozen. The Age of the Splintering, when the first empires of Orcs and Elves broke apart, giving rise to chaos and creation in equal measure.

And now, here in the Age of Stagnation, they had made a promise to become something greater than themselves.

Akash Dorher, the boy who lived as an impossibility. If anyone could pull off such a feat, it was him. But Mirak and Daenys? Could they hope to rise to such heights? Mirak glanced at Daenys, and her thoughtful expression mirrored his own doubts.

With one final motion, as if it acknowledged their promise, the Shifter climbed higher. Its full length emerged from the canopy, an enormous, gleaming serpent coiling its way up the wall of the canyon. With a last, graceful motion, it disappeared into the upper forest, its presence fading like a waking dream.

The jungle returned to silence, the weight of the moment lingering in the air.

That night, the three friends slept under the stars, a small flame burning within each of them. It was a quiet warmth, a spark of something far larger than they could comprehend.

Akash Dorher, Daenys Godren, and Mirak Windgust had no idea what they had set into motion. The shifting tides of the Age of Stagnation had begun, and their names would soon ripple across history.

But they were still only mortals—small wisps of flame in the grand tapestry of time.

Yet all legends begin as a wisp, fragile and fleeting. If nurtured, if fed by resolve and determination, those flames could grow into an inferno. And once an inferno ignites, it cannot be stopped.

The people of this Age would endure the coming storm of fire, waiting for it to pass. And when it did, only ashes would remain.

But within those ashes, the seeds of a true legend would stir. From the ruins of the Age of Stagnation, a new story would be born—a story that would reshape Lorian itself.

And so, with that unspoken promise between them, the three friends drifted into dreams, unaware of the destiny that awaited them.