The Fracture
Chapter 2: A Fragment of Hope.
Seres Caelum.
Watching the fragments with a dumbstruck expression, I reached out and grabbed one with my left hand, letting instinct guide me. No special reason, just picking the closest one.
My hands were shaking, and it felt as if all sound left the room. The only thing I could focus on was the vault.
The kaleidoscope of colors made my heart pound in fear, giddiness, confusion, and many other feelings I couldn't name. This was absurd; something like this shouldn't exist in my house.
There were big stores around Farskog with fewer fragments than this.
The city wasn't like the ones in the inner circle of Nordhjelm, but Fragments were the most important part of our existence in this day and age, from our strength to nobility, even our economy used them.
Dull, almost dead brown. The most common type in this broken world. Around eighty percent of humanity started with one, according to Professor Thorne. They were everywhere, cheap, and forgettable.
I set it back and looked at the rest.
Most fragments in this hidden vault were the same, which almost let me breathe easier.
Almost.
Because several were brighter. Brighter meant Heroic Tier at the minimum.
And then there was the one that nearly burned my retinas.
I didn't look at it twice. Not out of fear or lack of curiosity, but because it dragged memories I'd spent years burying straight to the surface.
Just seeing that crimson shard made sweat gather at my spine. Inside it, entire galaxies seemed to collapse and ignite again.
I'd been twelve when my parents gave it to me. One of our last moments as an actual family.
Their excitement had been contagious back then. Mother and Father grinning like idiots, Lira bouncing with barely contained pride. All of them sharing looks, as if they were finally letting me into some great secret.
I would never forget the way Lira's eyes seemed to shine. That beautiful and daunting blue on her eyes looking as if they were about to pop out of her skull. The way her hair seemed to come to life with how excitedly she was bouncing, looking at me expectantly.
Then Mother unboxed the fragment, lifting the runed container with reverence. The same runic style carved into the vault around me now.
They sat me down at the table. Explained nothing. Just guided me through my "first step to becoming a Shardbound."
I remembered the headache. A blinding pain, as if the spike was cracking my skull from the inside out. Then nothing.
When I woke three days later, I was lying in a basin of conjured ice, shaking uncontrollably.
My mother's magic was the only reason I hadn't cooked myself alive. I didn't fail to see their disappointment, even when they tried to hide it. It wasn't as if they were embarrassed of me, my family loved me too much for that, but I could see the way their smiles didn't reach their eyes.
Even with their reassurance, something had always felt off. Wrong. No matter what they said, no matter how many fragments I tried afterward… each attempt failed.
Even after complimenting me for not giving up, that the next time it would work, every time something broke inside me.
Some failures were mild. Others weren't. But none compared to the crimson shard I refused to look at now.
Money troubles kept me from trying more fragments. But even if I had the coin… nothing worked. The only reason I hadn't given up was that I simply didn't have any other option.
Not if I wanted to fulfill my dream. To find what really happened to my family, to be someone in this broken world.
The vault around me held enough fragments to make me rich several times over, but selling high-tier ones without paperwork was suicide. Exile at best. Execution at worst.
And in my current state, the wastes would devour me in hours.
I tore my eyes away from the crimson fragment and steadied myself.
Maybe things had changed over the years. Maybe the aftermath wouldn't destroy me this time. It had been over a year since my last try. And even that one set me back significantly.
I lived off vegetables for three months straight. And considering that I was the only normal human in my year, I couldn't forget about training my body. I couldn't keep trying and everything that came after that.
And disappearing from class for days without explanation was a death sentence of its own.
Alva would kick my door down with a squad of soldiers. They'd find the vault. They'd find everything.
No. I couldn't risk it.
Alva was my only friend; she would absolutely use her significant power to get a squad to find what happened here. I loved the girl, but she could be such a worrywart most of the time. It irritated me, most of the time, but without a family, she was the only one here that truly worried about me.
I couldn't thank her enough for how much she's helped me during these years. Despite my pride forcing me to deny what she and her family truly offered.
I exhaled slowly.
Six months until graduation, assuming I survived that long. Six months to finally become a Shardbound.
At least the requirement was simple. No one expected everyone to be a genius like Alva, Maria, or Ragnar. Even now, after two thousand years of study, fragments remained half-understood mysteries.
Simple in concept. Brutal in practice.
A Fragment could change your life in a single day, but it also could ruin an entire country if someone misused it. It wasn't a coin toss; we knew enough about them to avoid the worst if you weren't an idiot. It's just that my situation didn't give me much of a choice.
The mortals who lived through the Fracture must have been beyond desperate. The gods they worshipped vanished, the world ruptured under their feet, and billions died in the opening hours.
Only a few million survived Null's final act. And what was left of the world wasn't merciful.
Mythic essences spilled freely, puppeteering legends into reality. Mountains shifted. Seas vanished. Monsters tore through everything. Famine ravaged the survivors. Divine curses roamed the world.
But humans adapted. They learned how to fight back, how to take fragments from slain manifestations, how to write and teach and rebuild.
Even so, calling the world "fine" was laughable.
The domes kept us alive, but even inside them danger crawled everywhere. Outside? That was another story entirely.
Fragments roamed wild. Myths walked in the open. Cultists waited in ruins and alleys. One group even toppled a dome in Zhongnan centuries ago. The aftermath nearly collapsed the continent.
No. I wasn't safe.
Humanity wasn't safe.
Strength was the only path.
Every great name in history started with a Heroic fragment or better. Some with even with a Divine fragment.
I wanted to be like them. Needed to be like them. It was the only way.
But wanting wasn't enough. Not as I was now.
I picked up the nearest dull fragment, closed my eyes, and focused.
A sharp image flickered in my mind, enough to make me huff a quiet laugh.
A samurai. Common in Vassilios, not Nordhjem.
Nordhjem fragments usually carried that stoic, ice-bitten presence. This one felt different.
Rigid, disciplined, shaped by steel and centuries of unwavering loyalty. The most loyal army under the heavens.
The faint outline faded, leaving behind the echo of duty.
The fragment pulsed once in my palm.
"Guess you'll do," I muttered.
I pocketed it and took one last look around the vault. The dull fragments were quiet. The bright ones… less so. I could almost feel their pull. The greed pulling my heartstrings, whispering sweet nothings about how great I could be.
For a moment, I considered grabbing another. Selling one Heroic fragment could solve every problem I had, at least for the foreseeable future.
But Maria's father would drag me into a cell before I crossed the street. There was no way I could explain where I got it from, and the whole world was paranoid about windfalls because of everything that had happened in the past.
With a final sweep of my hand, the runes sealed the vault. Mother used the same style all over the house. For heating, lights, cooking, but nothing she'd crafted compared to this.
I never expected they were hiding something so massive behind the walls I grew up touching.
Magic didn't come naturally to me. Most people weren't gifted either. But my failure to merge with even a basic fragment? That one stung.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the seamless wall. The silence felt heavier than ever.
I slapped my cheeks lightly and forced myself toward my room, knowing that I could live somewhere better if my pride wasn't stung.
It wasn't big, but it was mine. A bed, a desk buried under academy notes, and a window showing the curve of the dome's inner wall. The glow outside never faded, but at night it looked almost dreamlike.
A miracle of science and magic. A shield between me and everything trying to kill us.
I sat on my bed and pulled the samurai fragment into the light. Its glow flickered weakly.
Soldier-tier. Nothing special.
But it would do. It had to.
"Maybe this time," I whispered, excitement rushing through my veins. Perhaps the time without trying made my dream weight even more, but I had a good feeling about this one.
I hadn't seen an image this clearly of the being inside in a long time.
I placed the shard on my palm and focused.
For a moment, there was nothing.
The city hummed outside. My breathing slowed. I followed the steps Thorne and my family drilled into me. Reach tranquility, quiet your mind, probe into the fragment, open your soul.
Without forcing any step. I learned that the harsh way.
Everything to show the being inside that you're worth merging with.
Researchers still argued whether the consciousness inside fragments was truly alive. I didn't care anymore. If they weren't, then every failure was entirely my fault.
A soft vibration touched my mind.
Something new.
Nord fragments had a particular feel, bluntness, to be exact.
This one felt… calm. Neutral. Like standing alone in an endless plain beneath a quiet sky.
Not welcoming. Not rejecting. Just observing me.
My heart thumped harder, hard enough to overcome the hum of the dome outside.
The fragment brightened. The samurai's silhouette returned for a heartbeat.
He was motionless, a katana sheathed at his side.
That strange helmet hid everything but his overwhelming presence.
I reached toward it. I couldn't avoid my breath hitching.
The air in the room felt heavier this time. The shard pulsed again, sharper, this time. A strange rush went through me. It's mythic energy flowing from the fragment to my hand, and then to my whole body.
For the first time in years, something was actually happening. I could sense the energy flowing through everywhere in my body.
Maybe it was because this fragment came from another land. Maybe my soul wasn't compatible with the Norse fragments I kept trying.
Maybe this was finally…
The glow shifted. Glowing dimmer by the second before it twisted.
Then it flared white-hot.
Pain tore through my palm and raced up my arm. I tried to drop the fragment, but my fingers locked in place. The heat punched straight through my skin.
A hiss ripped from my throat. I clawed at my arm, trying to pry the thing off, vision tunneling as the room swayed.
Not again. Not again.
Something burst inside my chest.
I choked and spat blood across the floor. The world turned violently, the same sickening collapse that hit every time I'd tried this.
I staggered, crashed into the desk and sent books flying everywhere. My knees buckled and my breath came in broken gasps.
And somewhere deep inside…
Something cracked.
Then broke.
A scream tore out of me as the world went dark, and the last thought I had was a desperate wish that Nótt would welcome me when I fell.