He stirred in the stillness of his room. The tension had driven him to seek his blankets, but he could not find rest. He sighed. All he wanted was to make them proud…why were those simple needs heavy words?
He pushed himself up, dressed, and collected Regulus. He wasn't going to just lie there. His great-grandfather's shrine may be a league walk in the darkness, but anything was better than being in his room.
The moon kissed the horizon in the cool night air. Regulus hugged his clavicle as he walked. The butt of his rod bit into the soft grass as he walked. Crispin ignored the shadows of creatures and animals that moved in the distance. While he and Regulus had not fought together yet, still…he had a legendary.
"You'd protect me, right, Regy?" His eyes traced the shadows in the darkness.
Regulus pulsed with a bright light and nodded.
After an hour, he arrived at the cave entrance.
Crispin parted the heavy curtain of bioluminescent vines, leaving the sounds of the forest behind. The air inside the hidden sanctuary shifted; it became crisp and carried a sharp tang that tickled his lungs.
Every step across the carpet of velvet-like moss felt deliberate. Regulus remained perched on his shoulder, his azure form pulsing with a low, inquisitive light that illuminated the jagged stone ceiling. This was the place of his grandfather's stories; a sanctuary carved from the very bones of the world during an age when the Aldyr were still whole.
The shrine dominated the center of the cavern. It was a masterpiece of ancient craftsmanship, depicting a goddess kneeling in eternal prayer. Her stone features were so delicate they seemed capable of movement; she leaned against the flank of an elegant dragon. The dragon folded its wings like a protective shroud around her. Silver-leaf ivy wove through the pedestal, its leaves glistening with droplets of condensation that looked like tiny diamonds.
Crispin set his satchel on a flat outcropping of granite. He reached inside and pulled out a bundle of tallow candles and a single stick of sandalwood incense. With practiced reverence, he moved. He lit the candles one by one; the small flames flickered against the damp walls, casting long, dancing shadows that made the stone dragon appear to breathe. Sandalwood soon filled the space, masking the smell of wet earth and cave-rot.
He stripped away his sweat-stained tunic and trousers, leaving them in a neat pile near the altar. He stood unclothed in the cool air, his skin prickling before he stepped toward the narrow, heated stream that bypassed the shrine. The water bubbled from a deep thermal vent, carrying a pleasant warmth that sent plumes of white steam curling into the vaulted ceiling. He waded into the pool; the heat sinking into his tired muscles and soothing the three stinging lines of red on his arm where the cobalt-drake had raked him. He washed away the grime of the woods and the soot of the family forge. This purification was a necessity; he was sloughing off the expectations of Thalandir and the heavy weight of his mother's sneers.
Before standing before the goddess, he stepped out of the water and dried himself. He remained naked, offering himself to the ancient powers without the pretense of armor or social status. He remembered the prayer his grandfather had whispered in this very spot, a secret legacy of the Aldyr that had never quite faded from their bloodline.
"Cherished mother of the Aldyr, I, Crispin Thorneborn, greet and pray for your blessing."
His voice sounded steady, carrying a resonance he had never felt in the village. He bowed his head low, his damp hair clinging to the nape of his neck. He offered his wrists forward, crossing them as if inviting the goddess to bind him to the gravity of his words. This was the gesture of the bound servant, a sign that his life and his taming were now dedicated to restoring his people. He reached for the hexagonal stone and placed it upon the cold altar.
"My line has honored you since we were Elven and whole," Crispin whispered, his eyes fixed on the statue's face. "Bless me and my tame Regulus. Please allow us to bring honor and respect to our name. Amen."
He waited in silence. For a heartbeat, the cavern fell into a stillness so absolute that he could hear the internal vibration of Regulus' core. A brilliant, blinding flash erupted from the hexagonal cuts in the stone. The light was not the warm gold of the sun-crystals; it was a piercing, ethereal white that filled every corner of the sanctuary. The stone vanished, dissolving into a spray of crystalline dust that swirled upward before diving toward Crispin's chest.
He gasped as a wave of intense dizziness swept over him. The world tilted on its axis; he had to lunge forward and grip the edge of the altar to keep from collapsing. His vision blurred into a kaleidoscope of shifting runes and ancient symbols.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
ARTIFACT INTEGRATION COMPLETE: You've activated the Heart of Perseus.
STATUS: Dormant
REQUIREMENT: Align with Soul Fragments to activate.
He pressed a hand against his sternum. A strange, crystalline coldness lived behind the bone but was as dead as stone. It felt odd, a foreign weight embedded in his very soul, yet it also felt natural. The artifact had found its home. He waited for the vertigo to pass, his breath coming in shallow hitches as he felt the new presence settle behind his ribs.
He stood up, his legs feeling heavy but certain. The metal rod, a family heirloom from his grandfather, was what he reached for. It was cold to the touch; the silver surface etched with runes that now seemed to glow with a faint, sympathetic light. He gripped it like a staff, testing the balance. The rod was long, stretching toward the ceiling, yet it felt as light as a willow branch in his hands.
Regulus hopped onto the altar, his azure body pulsing with excitement as he watched his partner. The tattered Shae'Vaelryn clothing still lay on the bed of velvet, waiting for the day he could afford a duplicate. Crispin looked at the goddess one last time. He was no longer just the boy from the blacksmith's shop. He was an Aldyr with the Heart of Perseus in his chest, and the journey to reclaim his heritage had begun.