[The Storm Outside the Cave]
As the wolf pack entered the cave, Ruvio stood watch outside, aware of the Beta's sentience, thanks to the spiral's influence. He knew the Beta possessed mental power, making it a formidable ally or adversary. Though he could have easily forced the pack to leave, he refrained. Such an intervention wouldn't benefit Eris's training. He even considered commanding the Beta to help, but instead, chose a more subtle approach: he had mentally reached out to the Beta, politely asking it to assist Eris in his situation. By doing so, Ruvio aimed to foster a meaningful interaction between Eris and the wolf, allowing them to learn from each other. He only observed, preferring to let Eris gain experience without his direct intervention.
After the pack left the cave, Eris and Kaylah fell into a deep slumber, their minds wandering realms beyond mortal reach. Ruvio stood sentinel outside the cave, staff in hand, his grip firm and unyielding. The staff, crafted from blackened oak with silver veins, seemed to absorb the moonlight, radiating quiet strength and protection. His vigilant presence ensured their safety, a silent guardian allowing their mystifying dream to unfold uninterrupted.
Outside the cave, the storm had passed, but the gorge was alive with an ominous presence. The Shadows gathered, their cloaked figures emerging from the mist like ghosts. Five of them moved as one, their bone-white masks carved with spirals, their silver-tipped weapons glinting in the pale moonlight. Ruvio was acutely aware of their presence, his senses attuned to the subtle threats lurking in the darkness.
They were members of the Shadows clan, with blades shaped from obsidian and iron, their chants low and droning. Their leader, with a mask carved in the likeness of a horned beast, raised his staff. Silver dust clung to its tip, glowing faintly in the dark.
He stepped forward. "The boy carries the vein," the leader intoned. "The shard calls to him, a vessel and offering both. Hand over the boy to us, and you shall be rewarded, and your debt forgotten.
"The High Priest demands it. He will be a vessel. A god. Or a sacrifice. It matters not."
Ruvio stepped from the shadow of a boulder, battle axe slung at his waist, and gripped the gnarled staff tightly with his right hand.
His voice cut through their chant, hoarse but unyielding. "He's no god for your worship. He's no lamb for your altar. I will not let you take him."
The Shadows shifted, a ripple of silent menace. The horn-masked leader tilted his head.
"Ruvio, hound of the wastes. Have you forgotten? You have guarded many, but none escaped their fate… other than one."
The chant of the Shadows rose again, guttural and steady, as if the storm itself had found a voice. Their silver-tainted blades glinted, their masked faces blank with zeal. They pressed Ruvio hard, step by step, until his boots slid on the mud at the gorge's edge.
He spat blood, wiped it from his mouth, and planted his gnarled staff in the earth. It was older than any of them had seen; a blackened wood veined with lines of silver light that pulsed as though alive.
The horn-masked leader stilled. His chant faltered. "The Veinwalker's staff…" he hissed.
Ruvio didn't retort. He twirled his staff, and the silver veins embedded in the wood flared to life, casting eerie blue light across the rocky ground. He slammed the butt into the ground. The silver beneath the earth responded. A shockwave rolled outward, rattling stones loose from the gorge walls. The silver mist summoned by the Shadows shrieked as if alive, recoiling from the staff's flare.
"You think you know the Spiral's gift," Ruvio growled, his one eye burning. "But you only steal scraps. I've walked with the silver. I've listened when it whispered. And it told me your kind are nothing but carrion birds feeding on what you don't understand."
The horn-masked leader raised his staff high, chanting. The silver dust flared, and the ground trembled. From the cracks in the gorge seeped thin tendrils of silver mist, alive, searching. They coiled toward the cave mouth.
Ruvio cursed. If those tendrils reached Eris, the boy would be taken without a fight. But they were many, and he was alone. Ruvio exhaled.
With a roar, he hurled himself into the path of the mist, his axe spinning in brutal arcs. Shadows closed in, blades slashing at his arms, shoulders, legs, but he did not falter. He fought like a wall against a flood, his blood joining the rain, his breath ragged but fierce.
The Shadows lunged. Their blades whistled, their chants twisted into screams, but Ruvio was no longer only flesh and fury. The staff thrummed with each swing, arcs of silver-blue light trailing behind it. He moved like a storm, steady and wild. Each strike broke their rhythm, each pulse from the staff seared the silver dust from their weapons.
They came at him in pairs, always in silence, their movements more ritual than combat. Each step, each strike, seemed part of a pattern meant to wear him down. Ruvio gave no ground. His axe rose and fell, hacking, cleaving. One mask shattered under the crescent blade; a face revealed only long enough to scream before being crushed into silence.
A pair of Shadow darted forward, faster than any common hunter. Their blades were slick with dark power, humming faintly with a tainted silver. Ruvio met the strike with a crash of steel, his axe biting into the obsidian sword. Sparks leapt, a blade sang through the air, aimed for Ruvio's throat. He sidestepped, the edge grazing his cloak, and countered with the butt of his staff, cracking the attacker's ribs. The man crumpled, but the others didn't falter. They fanned out, surrounding him, their movements fluid, unnatural; enhanced by the silver they had consumed.
A Shadow lunged with a spear. Ruvio deflected it, the impact sending a shockwave through the ground. He pivoted, swinging the battle axe in one smooth motion, and buried it in the Shadow's shoulder. The man screamed as silver fire erupted from the wound, his stolen power rebelling against the axe touch. He collapsed, his body twitching as the silver in his veins turned against him.
Another came from behind, a dagger aimed for his spine. Ruvio sensed him, a flicker in the silver's song, and spun, his staff sweeping low. The Shadow tripped, and Ruvio's battle axe finished the job, splitting the mask in two. The man's face was already dissolving, his silver veins unraveling like frayed thread. The man's body convulsed, his silver blood boiling as Ruvio's staff drank it in.
He pressed his staff into the earth and pulled.
The ground trembled. Silver light erupted from the cracks, coiling around the Shadows' feet like serpents. They shrieked as the power they had stolen turned against them, their own veins betraying them. One of them managed to break free, charging with a sword raised high. Ruvio threw his battle axe, the pointed silver-tipped head piercing the Shadow's chest. Then he pulled it from the Shadow's body and finally cleaved the head with the axe's crescent blade.
Only the leader remained. He snarled. "You cannot win, Ruvio. The High Priest's will is absolute."
Ruvio didn't waste words. He drove his staff into the earth again, and this time, the silver answered with a roar. A shockwave of energy exploded outward, hurling the leader back. The man hit the ground hard, his cloak smoldering, his silver veins flickering like dying embers.
Finally, the horn-masked leader stepped back, raising his staff in defense as the ground quaked beneath them. His voice carried through the gorge, "You cannot guard him forever, Veinwalker. The boy is chosen. He will be bound; whether by worship or by blood."
"Not while I draw breath," Ruvio replied. "Tell your High Priest..." stepping forward, his staff humming with power, "...that if he wants the boy, he would have to take him over my dead body."
Ruvio stood over the fallen, his chest heaving, his staff's radiance fading. The cave entrance remained dark, undisturbed. The glow of its veins dimmed, sinking back into silence. He lifted his gaze toward the cave mouth, where Eris and Kaylah were still in deep slumber, undisturbed by the clash between the elder and the Shadows.
He could not go to them. Not yet. If the boy leaned too hard on his protection, he would never grow strong enough to face what was coming.
He would tell Eris of the Shadows, of the Spiral, of the silver's true nature, but not now. Tonight, the boy needed sleep. Tomorrow, he would need fire.
Ruvio stood sentinel outside, a solitary figure amidst the storm's aftermath. His gaze remained fixed on the cave, though his voice was silent; his mind continued to scan the land for any sign of trouble.
He knew the Shadows wouldn't forget; their leader would hear, and repercussions would follow.
***
[The Shard's Embrace]
As Celestia's ethereal visit to Eris and Kaylah's dreams came to a close, the lingering sense of her presence still resonated within them.
With newfound determination, the two companions decided to embark on a quest to find the shard. The darkness enveloping the cave was palpable, a suffocating shroud that obscured their vision. Yet, the intricate spiral etched into the wall served as a guiding beacon, its gentle curves illuminating their path.
Kaylah's unique vision, a gift that allowed her to perceive the world in ways others couldn't, proved invaluable as they navigated the treacherous passage. With each step, the spiral's symbolism seemed to unfold, drawing them closer to their goal.
As they moved deeper into the cave, the air thickened with anticipation, and finally, they stumbled upon the shard, its presence radiating an otherworldly energy.
"Here." Kaylah pointed.
"This is where it hides," she whispered.
It was a small cavern, no larger than a hut. Its walls glittered with veins of silver threaded through the rock, faintly glowing like frost. In the center, half-buried in calcite and hardened stone, it pulsed faintly, a crystal no bigger than a finger, glowing with a light that wasn't steady but alive.
The shard.
Eris felt his knees weaken. The pull was overwhelming now, dragging at his chest, his breath, his very blood. His hand lifted without his will, reaching.
Kaylah seized his wrist. "Careful. It's not just lying there for you. Look."
Around the shard, the stone was cracked and sharp. Slabs of rock jutted like knives, and a thin mist pooled at the edges of the cavern floor. Beneath it, Eris saw a faint shimmer; tiny silver threads, writhing like living veins.
"They're alive," Eris whispered.
Kaylah nodded. "They're protecting the shard. They will attack when approached."
Eris grits his teeth. He could feel the shard calling, but the way to reach it was treacherous. If he stepped wrong, the silver veins could pierce him, flood his body with more than he could handle.
Kaylah drew in a sharp breath. "Try to communicate with the shard, just like the Beta taught you, use your mind. Shape your voice. The silver answers silver."
Eris closed his eyes. His heart pounded. He thought of the way he had touched the Alpha's mind, fumbling but real, sending the whisper that had stayed its hunger.
Could he send a whisper now, not to a beast, but to the shard itself?
Celestia's voice stirred faintly, "Not hand, but will. Not strength, but stillness."
He reached inward. The silver in his veins hummed, aching toward the shard. Slowly, painfully, he wove his thoughts into a gentle voice: Come to me. Let my body be your home. Come.
The mist recoiled, writhing as though in pain. The silver threads stilled, then loosened, like roots easing their grip. The rock around the shard cracked with a sound like breaking bone.
Kaylah gasped. "Eris, it's working."
Eris moved forward; each step heavy as though the cavern fought him. His veins burned, his vision blurring, but he pressed on until his hand closed around the shard.
Cold fire lanced up his arm. He nearly screamed, but Kaylah's hands were suddenly on his shoulders, her voice steady. "Hold on, Eris. Don't let it devour you. Make it feel that it is at home and safe with you."
Her presence steadied him; the strange gift she had had since they were young. The burning subsided into a steady thrum, the shard's pulse merging with his own.
When he pulled it free, the cavern exhaled a sigh of relief that seemed to ripple through the stone. Then, the mist vanished. The silver veins dulled, lifeless once more.
The moment Eris closed his fingers around the shard, it melted; not like ice, but like living metal, seeping into his skin, winding through his veins. A surge of power burned through him, sharp and electric.
His vision flared white, then snapped back into focus, the world sharper, brighter. The silver in his blood roared, alive in a way it never had before. He could feel it, every pulse, every thread, like a storm waiting to break, a searing heat that nearly made him shout in fear.
But Kaylah's hand was on his chest, her voice steady. "Let it merge with the silver in your vein," she said. "That's the only way it won't separate from you."
Eris swallowed hard, his heart pounding. The shard's warmth spread through his palm, melting like liquid metal, seeping into his veins. He could feel it, every thread, every pulse winding through him, binding to the silver already in his blood.
The pain faded, replaced by a surge of power, sharp and electric.
His vision flared white, then snapped back into focus. The world was brighter, the air humming with energy. The silver in his veins roared, alive in a way it never had before.
He flexed his fingers, watching as the last of the shard dissolved into his skin, leaving only a faint silver glow beneath his flesh.
Kaylah's eyes widened. "Eris…"
He met her gaze, his breath ragged. "I feel it," he said. "The power. Celestia's voice."
The maiden's words echoed in his mind: "Find my fragments. Bring them home."
Kaylah's eyes shone with awe and fear. "You've done it. The first shard."
Eris stared at it; the weight was heavy in his hand. He knew it wasn't just crystal; it was part of vast power, alive, and it had chosen to rest in him.
But deep in his bones, he also knew: this was only the beginning.
***