I didn't sleep.
Not really.
Every time I closed my eyes, the shard pulsed beneath my skin—like it wanted out. Like it wasn't mine, just using me for now. And every time I listened too long, I swore I heard it breathing. Faint. Just under the hum of wind and ash.
Tarin was asleep in the corner, one arm curled around his spear like he expected someone to rip it from him. Lira lay wrapped in blankets, a candle flickering near her head. She looked younger than her ten years tonight. Frail. I hated that.
I sat by the doorway. The front was still broken, but I'd propped up the table against it, just in case.
The system hadn't said much since we returned.
> [Passive Scan: Low-Level Hostile Presence Nearby]
[Guild Signature: Sable Crescent — Confirmed Unauthorized Activity]
Yeah. I figured.
Sable Crescent. That insignia burned in my head. A crescent blade wrapped in barbed vines. One of the older guilds. Not strong. Not supposed to be anywhere near this region.
So why were they here?
Why now?
I kept the sword on my lap. It wasn't relic-forged. Just steel. Dull in places. But familiar. The kind of weapon you trusted because it didn't lie to you.
The shard wasn't like that.
It whispered sometimes. Not words—more like ideas. Feelings. Hunger. Resentment. And something worse: recognition. Like it knew me.
And it wanted me to know it back.
---
Sometime near dawn, I felt the knock.
Not on the door. Not on the walls.
Beneath us.
A single, dull thud. Distant. Then again, louder. Like a drum buried under earth.
I looked down.
Dust was shifting around my boots.
I rose, slow, silent, and stepped outside. The village was dead-quiet. Even the birds hadn't returned. But the air felt wrong. Thicker. My skin itched.
That's when I saw them.
Three figures at the edge of the far field.
Too tall to be locals. Cloaked. Two carried spears. The one in the center had no weapon visible—just a silver mask gleaming in the dawn light.
They weren't trying to hide.
They were watching.
> [Threat Level: Moderate]
[Estimated Rank: A-Class]
Three against me, and I wasn't even ranked yet.
But I wasn't the same kid who walked into that dungeon.
Not anymore.
I stepped forward, but only a pace.
The one in the mask tilted his head. Like he was studying me.
Then, without a word, they turned and disappeared into the trees.
I didn't chase.
Not yet.
---
When I returned, Tarin was awake. He saw my face and knew better than to ask.
I checked on Lira, then walked to the burned barn behind the house. I needed space. Air. Time to think.
That's when the shard flared.
Not with power—but with memory.
Not mine.
Hers.
The woman from the vision—the Sentinel in chains. Her voice cracked through my head like a scream whispered through a keyhole.
"They'll test you. Not your strength. Your loyalty."
A brief flash—masked figures again. A ritual circle. A man bleeding from the eyes. Then nothing.
I staggered, breath catching.
Whatever this shard was... it wasn't just a relic.
It was a curse. A map. A warning.
And I had just been marked.