The Gamble of Shadows
---
Kael pressed his palm against the fractured sphere.
The crystal was ice-cold. Veins of corrupt Veilforce spiraled beneath its surface, like serpents trapped in frozen water. Beneath it all, the Devourer's presence loomed — an endless hunger, a black hole tearing at the seams of reality.
He clenched his jaw.
He didn't have a choice.
The corrupted Shard embedded in his chest — the gift and curse he had carried since awakening on that nameless battlefield — pulsed violently, sensing the sphere's collapse.
Use me.
The Shard's voice was seductive, almost gentle.
A knife offered with a smile.
Kael knew the risk. He had seen Shardbearers before him lose themselves — their bodies twisted, their minds shattered, becoming little more than vessels for the Veil's will.
If he failed…
He wouldn't die.
He would become something worse.
Something the others would have to kill.
---
Behind him, the battle raged on.
Theron vaulted over a collapsing guardian, blades flashing. Nyssra knelt beside Dain, casting desperate healing spells, while barely shielding herself from the storm of bone and fire.
They needed him.
Kael closed his eyes.
Drew a long, slow breath.
And reached inward.
---
The corrupted Shard answered.
Pain ripped through him like molten glass.
His vision bled white.
His veins became rivers of burning light.
Myrrh, still gripped in his hand, pulsed in harmony — its black blade singing a deep, mournful note that rattled the chamber.
The sphere responded.
Cracks began to knit, ever so slightly.
The Devourer's voice roared in his mind, furious, desperate:
> "No! You are mine!"
Kael gritted his teeth so hard they cracked.
Not today.
He poured more power into the Shard, forcing it outward, weaving its cursed energy into the crumbling prison like black iron bands. Every second was a knife edge — his soul straining, fraying at the edges.
He heard Nyssra scream his name — distant, terrified.
Felt Theron cutting a path through the guardians to reach him.
Felt Dain, from somewhere behind, channeling raw force to help anchor him.
But it wasn't enough.
The Devourer's tendrils lashed out — striking Kael's mind, his memories.
Visions flared:
—His mother's face, smiling.
—His father's hands, calloused and strong.
—The day the world ended in fire and betrayal.
One by one, the Devourer tried to tear them away, strip him down to raw hunger.
Kael roared, a sound ripped from the core of him.
He was not a puppet.
He was not a vessel.
He was Kael Veyne — Shardbearer, survivor, and for the first time in his life…
A Warden of his own fate.
---
With a final, shuddering surge of will, Kael slammed the last threads of corrupted Veilforce into the sphere.
The prison snapped closed.
The Devourer's scream echoed once — a sound that shattered stones and made blood run cold — before vanishing into silence.
The guardians crumbled to dust.
The world stilled.
Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping, Myrrh falling from his grasp and skittering across the stone.
Nyssra was at his side a heartbeat later, hands glowing with healing light, her face pale and frantic.
"Kael! Stay with me!"
Theron knelt opposite her, gripping Kael's shoulder hard enough to bruise.
"You stubborn bastard," he muttered, half a laugh, half a sob.
Dain, bloodied but alive, sat heavily against a wall, shaking his head in disbelief.
---
Kael forced his eyes open.
Everything hurt.
But he was still himself.
He let out a ragged breath, managed a weak, crooked smile.
"Did we… win?" he rasped.
Nyssra's eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
"For now," she whispered.
Kael nodded faintly, already feeling the exhaustion pull him under.
As darkness closed in, he allowed himself a rare moment of peace.
For the first time since his awakening, he had fought not just for survival — but for something larger.
And he had won.
At least today.
Tomorrow would bring new battles.
New nightmares.
New revelations.
But for now…
For now, he could rest.