🔥 Chapter 8 — The Breach at Dawn
Dawn never truly came.
Instead of sunlight, Ardentreach woke beneath a sky stained deep crimson—like the world had been dipped in blood. The crack overhead stretched wider than ever, its jagged edges pulsing, bleeding sparks of dark light.
Kael stood at the edge of the village square, watching the sky tremble as if something massive pushed against it from the other side. The Ember in his arm hummed with nervous energy.
Rhyne approached, cloak snapping in the sharp wind. "The air's thinning. That's the first sign of a major breach."
Kael frowned. "Why didn't we feel it earlier?"
"We did." Rhyne's jaw tightened. "The Shadeborn was the warning. This is the consequence."
Villagers gathered behind them—huddled, frightened, clutching torches and makeshift weapons. Kael's mother stepped forward.
"Is it safe to stay here?" she asked, voice shaking.
"No," Rhyne said bluntly. "But running now will only get you killed faster."
Murmurs of fear spread through the crowd.
Kael stepped forward. "We'll protect you. I swear it."
Rhyne gave him a sidelong look—half approval, half worry.
Then the crack overhead shuddered.
A sound like tearing metal echoed across the sky. A second fracture split off from the first, forming a branching scar that spread across the clouds. Light poured out—black and violet, swirling like a vortex.
The air dropped in temperature instantly.
Kael's breath misted.
Rhyne pulled a small device from his cloak—an orb etched with dozens of sigils. He planted it in the center of the square.
"What's that?" Kael asked.
"A wardstone. If it doesn't shatter, it might buy us ten minutes."
"Ten minutes for what?"
Rhyne stared at the sky, eyes narrowing. "For whatever is coming through."
The crack split open.
A wave of force slammed down, knocking villagers to their knees. Kael dug his blade into the ground to keep from falling. The air howled—wind spiraling downward like a tornado of cold fire.
And then… a silhouette emerged.
Tall. Armored in dripping shadow. Horned. Its eyes burned like molten embers inside a skull-like helm.
Not a Riftspawn.
Not a Shadeborn.
Something higher.
Something sent to test the boundary.
Rhyne's face drained of color.
"A Harrowed Knight," he whispered. "A general of the King."
Kael raised his arm, fire gathering instinctively.
"Then we fight."
The knight stepped forward, each footfall cracking the stone beneath it.
Its voice echoed like the death of stars.
"Bearer of the Ember… I have come for you."