The forest swallowed me in silence, yet it hummed with voices only I could hear. Every step I took left faint trails of light in the air, sparks of the Shattered Sky burning through my veins. My hands still held the crystal, its pulse echoing my heartbeat, warning me, guiding me, and sometimes threatening to burn me alive.
Aelira had told me to follow the path the crystal revealed, but she had said nothing of what waited at its end. And now, as shadows stretched unnaturally long across the gnarled trees, I understood why: no mortal should know the true nature of the first fractured realm.
The air grew thick, heavy with a metallic tang, and the trees themselves bent inward, as if watching. I could feel the earth beneath me—alive, breathing, aware. And then I heard it: the first of the whispers.
"Eryndor..."
The voice was low, like wind through stone, yet it carried a weight that pressed against my chest. I froze, gripping the crystal tighter.
"Do not fear, bearer of the Shattered Sky," another voice spoke, this one softer, melodic, almost human. "But beware the first trial. Not all that waits will speak in words."
I looked around, but no one was there. Only shadows, twisted and unnerving, and the glimmer of light from the crystal, revealing glimpses of shapes—creatures that could not exist in any mortal world. They moved with intent, circling, watching, as if deciding whether I was prey or pawn.
The path opened into a clearing. And in the center, suspended above the ground, was a stone archway carved with symbols I had never seen. They shimmered as I approached, glowing with a faint blue light that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the crystal. I felt it draw me closer, a pull stronger than gravity.
Before I could reach it, a sound like cracking ice split the air. The ground beneath me trembled, and from the shadows emerged a figure: tall, draped in robes that flickered like flame and smoke. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, but I could see the faint glint of eyes—two pinpricks of molten gold.
"Who enters the Realm Between Worlds?" it demanded, its voice a chorus of countless echoes.
I swallowed hard. "I… I am Eryndor of Thalir. I bear the Shattered Sky."
A shiver passed through the air. The figure tilted its head, as if weighing my words. "Few mortals survive the touch of the Shattered Sky. Yet here you are. Why?"
I tightened my grip on the crystal. "I… I don't know. Aelira sent me. The Watchers chose me. I—" My voice caught. "I want to understand. I want to… I must survive."
The figure laughed—or it could have been a hundred voices laughing at once. The sound was both terrifying and exhilarating. "Survival is not the question, Eryndor. It is what you will become in the crucible of this realm. Only then will the first god see you."
The words barely left its lips when the ground erupted. From the shadows, a creature crawled forth: a massive, serpentine form, its scales black as obsidian but streaked with silver light that resembled veins. Its eyes—four of them—glowed with cunning intelligence. Its maw opened, revealing teeth like shards of crystal.
Instinct screamed at me to flee. But I knew I couldn't. The crystal pulsed violently in my hand, and the voice inside whispered: "You are the Bridge. Bend reality to survive."
I raised the crystal, and a beam of light shot forth. It wasn't just light—it was life and fire and storm all at once. The serpent hissed, recoiling, but it was fast, too fast for ordinary strikes. I realized then: I had to think beyond mortal rules. I had to bend the realm itself.
I focused on the crystal, imagining a cage of light surrounding the serpent. The energy responded, shimmering, bending the air, warping the very shadows. The creature hissed in frustration, lashing out, but the barrier held. My pulse quickened. I could feel the Shattered Sky inside me, screaming for release, demanding more.
And then, in a single moment, I saw it—not a vision, but a truth: the serpent was not a mindless beast. It was a guardian, a test of the first fractured realm. To defeat it without destroying it would mark me as worthy of the gods' attention.
I lowered the crystal slightly, letting the cage dissolve, but keeping a wall of light around me. The serpent's golden eyes studied me, and slowly, it coiled back, retreating into the shadows. The moment it vanished, the archway ahead shimmered brighter.
The hooded figure spoke again: "Courage alone does not forge divinity, Eryndor. Understanding does. Remember this when the first god stands before you."
Then, as silently as it had appeared, it was gone. The clearing was empty, except for the archway and the crystal in my hands, pulsing like a heartbeat. I stepped forward. As I crossed the threshold, the world twisted: the forest faded, replaced by a sky of shifting stars, and below me, lands that should not exist stretched into infinity.
I had entered the first fractured realm—a place between worlds, where gods might wander, and where mortal flesh could become legend or ash.
And somewhere in this realm, the first god waited.
I could feel it.