The silence was heavier than any battle.
A void beyond screams, beyond the clash of steel or the thunder of explosions.
It was the silence of endings.
Of finality.
The kind that seeps into bone and freezes the breath in your lungs.
The shadow knelt, it was trembling. His form flickering like a candle in a storm. Cracks of unstable energy pulsed along his arms breaking his dark shell in pulses of red and black.
Every pulse came with a soundless shudder, like the groan of a dying star. His fingers dug into the dirt, as if trying to anchor himself to a world that was already slipping away.
The air around him had cooled, the wind falling dead. The light of the stars above dimmed out of mourning or respect, Ryker could not tell.
Even the sky felt hollow, empty of purpose. The heavens, once proud with constellations, now looked like the dimmed remnants of forgotten stories.
The woman lay broken.
Her body was more ruined than flesh. Her limbs torn away, blood soaking the stones beneath her. Dozens of swords and spears pierced her torso, jutting from her like cursed branches.
Her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. Her skin was pale, the glow that once danced across her flesh now flickering like a dying ember.
There was no grace in her fall, no honor in her wounds. It was only raw devastation. And yet, she clung to life not out of fear but for something far greater.
But even now..
She held something in her arm.
The last arm she had.
Something wrapped in layers of bloodied cloth.
It shimmered with a soft, golden light.
Gentle and warm.
A fragile sun against the darkness.
The contrast was unbearable death surrounding life, shadow holding light. And yet it endured, that little sun. It pulsed softly, rhythmically, like a heartbeat against the abyss.
The shadow reached forward, clawed hands shaking.
"Is it…?" he whispered.
His voice cracked through the silence like the first sound in a newborn world.
She blinked slowly. Her lips barely moved.
"Yes," she rasped, voice hoarse.
"He is here."
Even speaking drained her. The effort etched new pain into her already shattered expression.
The shadowy figure leaned in, breath ragged.
He was careful.
Very careful…
His movements were reverent, like a sinner reaching for holy ground. Something ancient trembled in his chest.
The figure, carefully…..so carefully he brushed the cloth aside.
A face.
Small.
Serene.
A child.
Newborn.
Perfect.
Eyes still closed, lips slightly parted, as if dreaming. A thin lock of black hair curled against his tiny brow.
The stillness of the child wasn't frightening. It was sacred.
The world seemed to hold its breath around him, afraid even to whisper.
The shadow exhaled a breath he didn't know what he was holding.
"He is...whole."
Awe laced his voice, like witnessing a miracle after a lifetime of ruin.
"I didn't let them touch him," she whispered.
"Even when they tore me apart. He was always shielded."
Her words carried a fierceness that defied her broken body. A mother's vow, paid in blood and pain.
Tears welled in the corners of the figure's unseen eyes. They sizzled as they hit his smoke like cheeks, hissing into the air.
Each drop was a story left untold,
a promise broken,
a grief too large for words.
He cradled the child gently. His form almost disintegrated at the contact, as if something so pure rejected what he was.
But the child didn't cry.
He simply nestled closer.
As if he recognized the presence holding him. As if trust had been passed through blood.
"He is warm," the figure breathed.
"Alive."
The wonder in his voice was fragile. He sounded like he couldn't believe it was real.
The woman's head rolled to the side, her voice now a whisper of silk and blood.
"You have to protect him…"
"You must."
Each word dragged with weight, not just out of duty but
Out of love.
Out of legacy.
The figure didn't answer.
"I mean it," she pressed, weakly gripping his forearm.
Her fingers were cold but the desperation in her grasp burned.
"This isn't about guarding or hiding. You must make sure he is raised, Loved…."
"And you must teach him."
The shadow flinched. "I…I don't know how."
His voice cracked like something ancient breaking open. Something that had forgotten softness.
"You didn't know how to love me either," she said softly.
"But you did."
A trembling silence followed. One that ached. One that spoke of memories forged in pain and redeemed in fire.
Silence fell between them again,
Thick and trembling.
It wasn't emptiness.
It was everything unsaid.
Everything lost.
She coughed, blood was running down her chin. Her eyes fluttered open again barely.
"There will be others," she said.
"Ones who will see him as a threat. As a prophecy. They will come with smiles and blades behind them….."
"They will say they know what is the best. But you must decide what that means."
She wasn't just speaking of enemies.
She was speaking of fate. The dangerous allure of control disguised as care.
She looked at the child, then back at him.
"Don't let them chain him."
"I won't," he said. His voice cracked.
"I swear it."
And in that vow, something sacred was forged. Not in divine fire but in despair, in hope, in love unyielding.
The woman nodded, her lips parting with difficulty.
"There is a melody… he carries it."
"What do you mean?" the figure asked, confused.
She didn't explain.
She couldn't.
Some truths aren't spoken…
They are lived.
Her breath hitched. Her fingers tightened over his hand.
Then.. both of them stilled.
Both turned their heads at once.
They looked toward something… or someone.
Ryker froze….
Though invisible, though unbound by the vision's laws, he felt seen.
The weight of their gaze crushed down on him like gravity reversed. It wasn't sight.
It was understanding.
Pure and consuming.
Their gazes pierced through time. Through dimension. Through him.
The woman's lips moved.
A whisper in the wind.
"Watch carefully. He will become what we could not."
The words struck him like a blade of light.
Cold.
Final.
Infinite.
Her words reached deep into Ryker's soul.
They resonated with something unspoken inside him.
A truth not yet understood.
But destined.
The figure's voice followed lower, almost reverent.
"You stand where echoes touch the veil. But be warned, broken spark… the melody ends where it began."
The air thickened. The vision trembled. Something vast stirred beneath the world.
Ryker couldn't breathe.
He couldn't understand.
But he could feel it.
Like destiny had brushed its fingers across his chest.
Like a song had been written inside his bones and was only now beginning to play.
Then the woman shivered.
Her eyes snapped open, wide with pain. Her head rolled back, lips parted in a silent scream.
A soundless agony that fractured the sky inside the dream.
Her arm trembled.
She was fading.
The child stirred.
The figure held the baby closer but didn't speak.
He couldn't.
The woman reached forward with her last ounce of strength.
Her fingertips brushed the child's cheek.
"Shhh," she whispered.
"It's alright… You will do great things."
"You will change the world."
Her voice was a lullaby spun from ash and light.
She leaned forward.
Pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"I love you."
A breath.
A pause.
A stillness.
And then..
She was gone.
Her body slackened.
Her arm fell from the child.
The light dimmed.
.
.
.
The figure stood still, cradling the baby.
He didn't speak.
Didn't cry.
He only lowered his head until his brow touched hers.
The wind returned.
Soft.
Cold.
He stayed like that for a time Ryker couldn't measure.
A silence that became sacred.
A vigil.
Then,
Finally, he stood.
Gently lifting the infant into the folds of his tattered cloak.
He looked down at the woman one last time.
"You… burned brighter than the stars."
A eulogy.
A farewell.
A promise.
He turned.
The sky above cracked.
The stars shattered.
The dream unraveled.
Light dissolved into glass like shards, falling upward.
The land began to fracture.
And the last thing Ryker saw,
Was the figure walking into the crumbling void.
The child is safe in his arms.
And silence falling across the world they left behind.
*****
[A/N: I finally got a contract. Its on verification process now!!!!!]