The vision fractured—like glass breaking underwater.
Adrien sucked in a sharp breath, the world around him snapping back into focus. Cold air scraped his lungs. His fingers were clenched so tight his knuckles ached.
Nyxaris stood beside him, crimson eyes fixed on him with an almost human wariness. The faint shimmer of shadow mist still clung to Adrien's arms before fading.
He swallowed hard, but the weight of the memory didn't leave.
That boy… those eyes. The loneliness in them felt too familiar. And that smile—fragile, like it might vanish if you blinked.
Adrien's jaw tightened. Why did it feel like I knew him?
A wet, rattling cough dragged his attention back. The prisoner slumped in his chains, head tilted unnaturally, a dark stain spreading beneath him.
Nyxaris's ears twitched; it had smelled it before Adrien even turned.
Whispers in the prisoner's voice sounded faintly, struggling to form words.
"Th—the crystal… won't… s-save you…"
Adrien stepped closer, crouching to check for life—but there was nothing. The prisoner's ashes was already cooling. No visible wounds, no struggle. Just… gone.
A faint pulse of energy rippled through the air, prickling at the edge of Adrien's senses.
Nyxaris let out a low, warning growl.
Adrien's gaze drifted toward the north, where the mountains met the clouds. The same energy had been in his vision—muted, distant. The Shadow Crystal wasn't just a weapon. It was calling to something… or someone.
He stood, expression unreadable.
"Looks like we're running out of time."
Nyxaris's mist swirled around him in agreement.
[System Message]
> Mental Evolution Achieved.
Shadow Affinity Resonance: +12%
Perception in Darkness: Enhanced.
Mental Fortitude: Increased resistance to psychic intrusion and fear effects.
Shadowforged Weapon Proficiency: Tier II unlocked.
A low hum pulsed through Adrien's skull, almost like a heartbeat that wasn't his own. The Shadowforged blade in his hand drank in the lightless air, the obsidian edge shimmering faintly as if whispering for violence.
[System Message]
> Godslayer Crystal – Second Fragment Acquired.
Current Integrity: 2/7.
Resonance Effect: Unknown. Further fragments required.
He slipped it into the inner fold of his coat, where the shadows seemed to cling unnaturally.
Nyxaris gave a low, approving rumble. Adrien glanced down at the wolf, a faint smirk ghosting over his lips.
"One more step. But whoever's watching us… they'll know I have it now."
The wind outside howled as if in agreement.
The vision faded like smoke snatched by the wind. Adrien's gaze lingered on the empty space where the prisoner had been, the jagged chamber's irregular pulse
"Whatever you saw," Fenrik's voice echoed faintly in his mind from the memory, "you'll have to carry it alone until the moment's right."
Adrien exhaled, shaking the heaviness from his head. "Right," he muttered to himself. "Let's be done here."
Nyxaris gave a soft huff, pressing its shadowed head briefly into Adrien's hand — a quiet, grounding gesture.
They made their way out of the tunnel. The stone air turned warmer with every step, until faint sunlight spilled ahead. Fenrik was already there, leaning against a boulder, one boot braced, the desert wind tugging at his travel cloak. His eyes, sharp but warm, shifted to Adrien.
"Well?" Fenrik asked.
"It's done." Adrien tossed a look back at the darkness. "No loose ends."
Fenrik nodded once, reading far more than the words said. "Good. Then we move. The Ashveil Desert's waiting."
Adrien raised an eyebrow. "You're dragging me into a furnace?"
"Better a furnace than a noose," Fenrik replied dryly. "The Order's got more eyes than crows right now. And they'll be looking for you."
---
Four days later – Ashveil edge
The desert rolled out before them — vast sheets of pale ash sand that shimmered like silver dust under the burning sun, shifting dunes twisting in the distance. Wind carried the taste of scorched stone.
Adrien adjusted his cloak. "If I die of heatstroke, I'm haunting you."
Fenrik chuckled. "Noted. But before you collapse, let's see what you know about a sword."
They halted on a rocky plateau, Nyxaris lounging in the shade of Adrien's pack. Fenrik handed over a weathered steel blade, its balance slightly off but serviceable.
Adrien took it, testing the weight. "Feels light."
"That's because you're expecting it to fight for you," Fenrik said, stepping into stance. "It won't. You move it — or you die."
For the next hour, they worked through the basics: footing, guard, and the rhythm between attack and retreat. Fenrik corrected Adrien's grip, adjusted his stance with a hand to the shoulder.
"Your arms are fine," Fenrik muttered. "It's your head I'm worried about."
"Gee, thanks."
Nyxaris occasionally padded in to nudge Adrien's leg or sit watchfully at his side, red eyes following every movement as though memorizing the steps itself.
When they rested, the wolf-like shadow beast curled beside him, resting its horned head on his knee — the heat of the desert forgotten in that shared quiet.
By evening, they were moving again, the crimson sun sinking into the silver dunes ahead. Somewhere beyond, the city they sought waited, hidden under a hundred layers of dust and secrecy.
The land changed slowly from rocky hills to pale, dry sand. The sun felt hotter with each mile. At night, the cold bit through their cloaks.
Fenrik and Adrien talked more than usual. Sometimes about nothing important—old stories, bad jokes. Other times, Fenrik shared small bits of his past. Adrien found himself listening more than speaking, almost like a son learning from a father.
Nyxaris stayed close to Adrien. At rest stops, the shadow beast would nudge him for scraps or curl up beside him. Adrien scratched the base of Nyxaris' glowing horn, earning a low, pleased rumble.
One evening, as the sun dropped behind the dunes, Fenrik tossed Adrien a wooden practice sword.
"You know how to fight," Fenrik said. "But you fight like a man who's always alone. Learn to fight like you've got someone at your back."
When they finally stopped, Adrien's arms ached. Fenrik clapped him on the shoulder.
"Better. You'll live longer this way."
Adrien gave a small smirk. "That's the idea."
Nyxaris let out a small huff, as if agreeing.
---
The desert stretched endlessly ahead. Somewhere beyond the next rise of sand was the city Fenrik spoke of—and maybe safety, for now.