Zara stood in front of the door to the Temple of Aether, hidden deep beneath Silver City's disused subway tunnels. She had located it by following the dreams that plagued her sleep—dreams that were becoming clearer, more urgent. The figure in the shadows had spoken this time, saying a single word in a language long dead.
She didn't recognize the language, but the Shard had pulsed with understanding.
Helena had offered to send backup, but Zara had refused. This was something she had to do alone.
The temple was carved out of black rock that pulsed weakly under the glow of her power. Glyphs ran the walls, some of them uncomfortably close to the markings etched into the Shard. The air was heavy, thick with old power—raw, unfiltered Aether that made her skin squirm.
As she stepped inside, the temperature dropped. Her breath came out in foggy bursts as the shadows around her deepened.
There, in the center of the central chamber, was a pedestal, and upon it, a second shard. It was like hers—but darker, corrupted, as if it had been defiled by time or mistreatment.
Zara's heart was pounding. She was not alone.
"Zara Kane," a low voice echoed around her. "Bearer of the Aetherlight."
She turned, shadows coiling around her in a defensive spiral.
A figure stood at the far end of the room. His eyes seethed with the same ominous silver as her own when she invoked the Shard. He was tall, dignified, and dressed in ceremonial robes that told of a long-dead civilization.
"You have sought us out for answers," he said. "Answers have a price."
"Who are you?" Zara demanded.
The man smiled, slow and knowing. "I am Solan. First Warden of the Aether. And you, child, are walking the same path I did."
Zara's eyes narrowed. "You had a Shard too."
"I still do," he said, holding up his hand. The corrupted Shard on the pedestal pulsed in response. "But unlike you, I did not resist its hunger."
Zara's breath caught in her throat. The second Shard wasn't just old—it was alive. Corrupted by the one who had once used it.
"This temple," Solan said, circling around her, "was not only a place of worship. It was a prison. For me. For my people. For what we had become."
Zara could feel the Shard within her reacting, all but shrinking from the presence of the other.
Solan's eyes darkened. "You have come for knowledge. Then know this: your power is only the beginning. There are six Shards in total—ripped asunder, hidden, buried. If reunited, they will awaken something far greater than you or I."
Zara's heart dropped.
"How many have already been found?" she asked.
Solan nodded. "Two are in play. Yours… and mine."
She retreated. "Then I'll ruin yours before it can cause any further harm."
His smile grew, sending a shiver down her spine. "You can try."
And with that, the tainted Shard burst into flame—and Solan struck.