The sky above the mountain village was fractured — not by lightning, but by a scar that ran across the heavens like shattered glass. Every night it glowed faintly blue, humming with a sound only the wise could hear, a sound that whispered of forgotten gods.
The villagers had long stopped looking up. To them, the cracked sky was a curse. But to a boy who slept on the temple steps, it was a promise.
His name was Cled.
No one knew where he came from. He appeared one stormy night, wrapped in a tattered cloak, eyes glowing faintly like the moonlight trapped in water. The monks took him in, not out of kindness but curiosity — for he did not cry, nor beg, nor flinch at thunder. He merely stared at the sky and whispered, "Why does it weep?"
For ten years, he lived quietly among the monks of Eyrith Temple, sweeping floors, grinding herbs, copying scriptures. He spoke little. But those who saw him said his presence was strange — as if he understood things the world had forgotten.
He once told an elder, "The world breathes, but the heavens hold their breath. That is why storms rage."
The elder laughed at first, then stayed silent for hours afterward.
---
The morning the story truly began, the cracked sky trembled.
Wind roared through the valley. Bells clanged wildly. The monks rushed outside, robes fluttering like frightened birds. Cled stood on the temple's edge, staring upward as shards of blue light shimmered between clouds.
Elder Ruthar, the oldest monk, approached him with slow, uneven steps. "Child, come down. The sky's anger is not for you to face."
Cled did not move. "It is not anger," he said softly. "It is pain."
Ruthar frowned. "Pain?"
Cled turned, his silver eyes calm yet infinitely deep. "The heavens have been split for a thousand years. The wound reopens when the balance falters."
"How could you possibly—" Ruthar began, but a deafening crack silenced him.
A streak of light fell from the sky, piercing the forest beyond the temple. The ground shuddered. Birds screamed and fled into the distance.
Without hesitation, Cled walked toward the forest.
"Wait!" Ruthar shouted. "That is divine lightning — you'll die!"
Cled paused only to smile faintly. "If it wished to kill me, Elder, it would have done so long ago."
---
The forest was thick with mist and scent of burning wood. A crater smoldered where the light had struck. At its center lay something that should not exist — a relic, half-buried in ash.
It was a small circular disc, etched with lines that glowed like molten veins. It pulsed faintly, beating in rhythm with Cled's heart.
As he reached for it, whispers filled his mind.
> "So the child has come… the seeker beneath the cracked sky…"
"Your path will wound worlds…"
"Are you ready to bear silence, when even gods will speak against you?"
Cled's fingers brushed the relic. The world froze.
Wind ceased. Fire stilled. The sound of existence itself seemed to vanish.
Then — the relic shattered into mist and entered his chest.
---
When Cled opened his eyes, he was no longer in the forest. He stood in a space filled with floating lights — fragments of constellations drifting like fireflies.
Before him stood a man robed in white, face hidden by shadow. His voice was neither loud nor soft, but every word trembled through the stars.
> "Do you know what you have touched, mortal?"
Cled bowed slightly. "Something that calls itself forgotten."
> "Forgotten, yes," the being replied. "I am the last echo of Heaven's Heart, the relic that holds the laws of ascension. It chose you — though I cannot see why."
"Maybe because I didn't wish for it," Cled said calmly.
Silence. Then a quiet chuckle.
> "Interesting. Most crave power. You look upon it as burden."
"Power without wisdom burns," Cled said. "I have seen ashes."
The being's eyes glimmered faintly through shadow. "Then listen well, Cled of the Cracked Sky. You will walk the path between mortality and divinity. You will rise — not because you wish to, but because the heavens demand it."
> "But know this: To become immortal is to forget what it means to be human."
The stars around him began to spin faster. The man's form dissolved into light.
"Seek the Nine Realms of Sky, where fragments of Heaven's Heart lie scattered. Each will test not your strength — but your soul."
The light faded.
Cled gasped and awoke in the forest once more. The crater was gone, the air still. Only a faint mark glowed on his chest — a symbol like a broken circle.
Elder Ruthar found him hours later, lying calmly beneath the trees.
"Cled! Are you hurt?"
Cled opened his eyes slowly. "No… just awakened."
Ruthar blinked. "Awakened? From what?"
Cled looked toward the horizon, where dawn was breaking through the cracked sky. "From ignorance."
---
That night, as the temple slept, Cled stood alone at the mountain's peak. His robes fluttered in cold wind. He raised his hand, and faint blue light danced around his fingers — the relic's power, quiet but alive.
The cracked sky above shimmered faintly in response.
He whispered, "If even the heavens bleed, then I shall learn to heal them."
A single star fell, cutting across the fracture.
Cled watched it go and smiled faintly.