Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 44: THE SECOND ARTIFACT

Chapter 44: THE SECOND ARTIFACT

The creature wearing his father’s face took another step forward, leaving behind footprints of viscous black ichor that sizzled against the ancient stone. The wounds that had killed Darius Nightblade twenty years ago gaped fresh and wet—a sword thrust through the chest, a half-severed neck still dripping blood, and empty eye sockets where Azurehall soldiers had taken their trophies.

"My son," it spoke again, voice vibrating with unnatural harmonics. "You’ve grown powerful. Just as I always knew you would."

Reed’s grip tightened around his obsidian blade, the weapon humming in resonance with his blue fragment. Behind him, he sensed Shia’s tension, felt Vex and Kalia’s horrified fascination at the abomination before them.

"You’re not my father," Reed said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his chest. "My father died with dignity. You’re just wearing his corpse like a costume."

The thing’s ruined face twisted into an approximation of a smile, revealing teeth that elongated into needle-points as it spoke. "But I have his memories, Reed. I remember teaching you to hold a blade when you were barely tall enough to lift it. I remember the prayers your mother made you recite before bed—prayers to gods that abandoned us both."

Reed felt the truth in those words like a knife between his ribs. This creature had somehow accessed memories that only his father could possess. The fragment at his side pulsed in warning, sensing his momentary doubt.

"The final trial," Shia whispered behind him. "The temple has been inside your mind since we entered. It knows exactly what form would cause you the most pain."

The crimson fragment floated between Reed and the creature, its glow intensifying whenever the false Darius moved closer to it. Whatever this entity was, it served as the final barrier between Reed and his prize.

"You seek power," the thing said, gesturing toward the hovering fragment. "Just as I did. The Nightblade ambition—always reaching beyond our grasp."

It took another step forward, and Reed noticed how the stone floor blackened beneath its feet, as if its very existence corrupted the material world.

"What do you mean?" Reed asked, buying time as he assessed his options. Direct combat seemed inevitable, but he needed to understand what he faced.

The false Darius tilted its head at an impossible angle, neck bones cracking audibly. "Why do you think I led our village in rebellion against Azurehall? I too found a fragment, buried beneath our fields. It whispered promises of power, of vengeance against our oppressors." Its voice shifted, becoming more inhuman with each word. "But I was weak. I failed the trials. Failed to claim what should have been mine."

Reed’s mind raced. This revelation—if true—changed everything he understood about his past. His father had never mentioned finding a fragment. Had never shown signs of the power Reed now wielded.

"You’re lying," he snarled.

"Am I?" The creature’s form rippled, momentarily revealing something ancient and terrible beneath the human disguise—a writhing mass of shadows and eyes. "The fragments choose their bearers carefully, Reed Nightblade. They seek those with the will to reshape the world. Your father lacked that will. What about you?"

Without warning, the thing lunged forward, moving faster than human reflexes could track. But Reed’s fragment responded instantly, suffusing his muscles with unnatural speed. He sidestepped the attack, bringing his obsidian blade around in a vicious arc that caught the creature across its midsection.

Instead of blood, shadows poured from the wound, coalescing into tendrils that lashed out at Reed. One caught his arm, sending icy pain shooting through his body. The touch felt like death itself—a cold emptiness that devoured life.

"Its wounds feed it!" Kalia shouted, loosing arrows that passed harmlessly through the creature’s increasingly insubstantial form.

Vex charged forward, her twin blades glowing with runes that Reed had etched into the metal months ago—protections against shadow-touched entities. The weapons found purchase where conventional arms failed, eliciting an inhuman shriek from the guardian.

Reed realized the truth in a flash of insight. "It’s not physical," he called out. "It’s a manifestation of doubt and fear. Our weapons won’t kill it—they just give it form!"

Shia moved like liquid shadow, her daggers returning to their sheaths as she circled the creature. "Then we don’t fight it," she said, her eyes meeting Reed’s across the chamber. "We reject it."

The fake Darius turned toward her, its form becoming more monstrous with each passing second. The human disguise was slipping, revealing glimpses of something vast and ancient beneath—a being of pure malevolence.

"She will betray you," it hissed at Reed, voice layered with multiple tones now. "Just as everyone you’ve ever trusted has done. Just as your father betrayed your village with his weakness."

Reed felt something shift in his understanding. This wasn’t about combat prowess or cleverness. This final trial was testing something far more fundamental—his capacity for trust after a lifetime of betrayal.

He stepped forward, lowering his blade. "My father never betrayed anyone," he said, voice firm with newfound certainty. "He died protecting what he loved. And these people—" he gestured to his companions, "—have bled at my side. Their loyalty isn’t a weakness to exploit. It’s my strength."

The creature writhed, its form destabilizing as Reed rejected its premise. The fragment at Reed’s side pulsed with approval, its blue light intensifying.

"You think yourself worthy?" the thing snarled, desperation edging its voice as it began to lose cohesion. "The fragments will consume you, just as they’ve consumed all who came before!"

Reed took another step toward the hovering crimson fragment, ignoring the guardian’s threats. "I don’t think myself worthy," he replied. "I know I am. Not because I’m special or chosen, but because I understand the price of power."

The creature made one final, desperate lunge, claws of shadow extending toward Reed’s throat. But Shia was there, moving between them with impossible speed. Her hands, empty of weapons, caught the shadow-claws bare-handed. Where they touched her skin, blue light erupted—the same energy that emanated from Reed’s fragment.

"Now, Reed!" she cried, her voice strained with effort. "Claim what you came for!"

Without hesitation, Reed reached for the crimson fragment. The moment his fingers touched its surface, the false Darius let out a howl of defeat, its form collapsing into wisps of shadow that dissipated like smoke in wind.

The crimson fragment burned against Reed’s palm—not with heat, but with a sensation of raw power seeking entry to his flesh. Unlike the first fragment, which had been almost eager to bond with him, this one seemed to resist, testing his resolve one final time.

Reed embraced the pain, allowing the fragment to bore into his left hand even as his right still clutched the blue one. Blood trickled between his fingers as the crimson artifact slowly, reluctantly, merged with his flesh.

And then—connection.

Reed gasped as visions flooded his mind. Not memories, but knowledge encoded in the fragments themselves. He saw vast chambers carved beneath mountains, where hooded figures worked ancient magics. He witnessed the creation of the fragments—thirteen in total, each pulsing with a different hue, each designed with a specific purpose.

The blue fragment—Warden—guardian and protector, attuned to the barriers between worlds. The crimson fragment—Sovereign—master of flesh and form, bender of physical laws. And glimpses of the others—Monarch, Seer, Harvester, Judge, Weaver, and more—each a piece of something greater, something designed to be wielded in concert.

Through the storm of images, Reed understood that the fragments were keys to a system far older than the kingdoms of men. The lords who ruled territories weren’t merely political constructs—they were unwitting participants in a vast arcane network designed to channel and control energies that flowed through the world.

The visions shifted, showing Reed an ancient map where ley lines of power crossed and merged at specific points—points that precisely matched the capitals of today’s realms. The lords, through their connection to their territories, served as anchors for these energies, whether they knew it or not.

And the fragments—they were meant to allow conscious control of this system. To elevate chosen wielders from unwitting tools to masters of the underlying fabric of reality.

As suddenly as they had come, the visions receded, leaving Reed gasping on his knees in the chamber. His companions surrounded him, their faces etched with concern.

"Reed?" Shia knelt beside him, her hand on his shoulder. "What did you see?"

He struggled to articulate the vastness of what had been revealed. "The fragments... they’re parts of a whole. A system designed to—" He faltered, the concepts too alien for easy expression. "To control the flow of power through the world itself."

Vex’s scarred face twisted in skepticism. "What does that even mean?"

"It means," Reed said, rising to his feet with newfound strength, "that the lords aren’t rulers by accident or mere conquest. We’re nodes in a network." He extended his hands, where the two fragments now pulsed in tandem—blue in his right palm, crimson in his left. "And with these, I can begin to see the true nature of that network."

Kalia approached cautiously, her elven senses clearly detecting the change in Reed. "You’re different," she observed. "The fragments have altered you."

Reed nodded. There was no point denying what they could all see. The fragments’ energies now coursed visibly beneath his skin—blue veins spreading from his right hand, crimson from his left, meeting and intertwining across his chest.

"We need to return to Goblin’s Hollow," he said, feeling a new urgency. "What I’ve learned changes everything. Our strategies, our goals—even our understanding of what’s possible."

As they made their way back through the now-dormant trial chambers, Reed felt the fragments communicating with each other. Not with words or images, but with pulses of energy that resonated through his body. They were seeking alignment, synchronization.

By the time they reached the surface, emerging through a previously hidden exit at the base of the temple, night had fallen. The stars above seemed clearer to Reed’s enhanced senses, their patterns revealing subtleties he’d never noticed before.

"We’ll make camp here," Reed decided, noting the exhaustion in his companions’ faces. "And return to Goblin’s Hollow at first light."

As the others busied themselves establishing a perimeter and preparing meager rations, Shia approached Reed where he stood gazing at the fragments embedded in his palms.

"There’s something you’re not telling us," she said quietly. It wasn’t an accusation, merely an observation.

Reed met her gaze. "The fragments showed me... possibilities. Connections between powers I never understood before. But they also showed me dangers."

"Prince Tarrant," Shia guessed. "He survived the temple collapse, didn’t he?"

Reed nodded grimly. "The Monarch fragment protected him. And he’s not alone in wielding these powers." He hesitated, then added, "There was something else. Something about you."

Shia stiffened almost imperceptibly. "What do you mean?"

"When you intercepted the guardian, your hands glowed with the same energy as my fragment. As if..." He struggled to find the right words. "As if you share some connection to their power."

"Impossible," she whispered, though uncertainty flickered across her face. "My family were guardians of the temples, yes, but we were never wielders ourselves."

Reed took her hand, an unusual gesture from a man who rarely initiated physical contact. The moment their skin touched, both fragments pulsed in unison, sending waves of blue and crimson light cascading over their joined hands.

"Something is happening between us," Reed said, watching in fascination as the energies mingled. "Something the fragments recognize."

Shia’s eyes widened as tendrils of light moved from Reed’s hand to hers, tracing delicate patterns beneath her skin before fading. "What does it mean?" she asked, her usual composure slipping.

Before Reed could answer, both fragments suddenly flared with blinding intensity. He felt them pulling toward each other, drawing his hands together against his will. When his palms met, the fragments pulsed once more—and began to merge.

Pain lanced through Reed’s body as the two artifacts fused, their separate energies becoming something new. Blue and crimson light swirled together, forming a deep purple glow that enveloped both his hands.

"Reed!" Shia cried out in alarm, trying to pull away. But she couldn’t—the energy had created a bond between them that held fast.

The merging fragments pulse with increasing intensity, the purple light spreading up their arms and across their bodies. Reed felt his consciousness expanding, touching Shia’s mind, their thoughts overlapping in impossible ways.

Images flashed between them—Reed’s memories of battle and conquest, Shia’s forgotten childhood in the temple sanctums. Knowledge transferred wordlessly, skills and instincts sharing across the diminishing barrier between their selves.

And deeper connections formed—emotional resonances, unspoken desires, fears hidden even from themselves, all laid bare in this moment of impossible intimacy.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the merging stopped. The purple light receded, drawing back into Reed’s hands where the fragments now rested as a single artifact—no longer blue or crimson, but a deep violet crystal embedded in his right palm.

Shia stumbled backward, breaking their connection. Her eyes were wide with shock and something else—a profound recognition. "What... what just happened?" she gasped.

Reed stared at the new fragment, feeling its altered power coursing through him. "They’ve joined," he said simply. "Becoming something new." He looked up at Shia, seeing her with new clarity—understanding aspects of her being that no normal perception could have revealed. "And I think they’ve joined us as well."

Before she could respond, a thunder of hooves broke the night’s silence. Vex appeared at the edge of their makeshift camp, her expression grim. "Riders approaching," she reported. "At least twenty, bearing the Monarch’s banner."

Reed’s newly enhanced senses reached out, detecting what his companions could not—the distinctive energy signature of fragment power approaching rapidly.

"It’s not just any Monarch forces," he said, the violet fragment pulsing in warning. "Prince Tarrant leads them. And he’s not alone."

Reed felt other presences accompanying the prince—three distinct energies that resonated with familiar frequencies. Other fragment bearers had joined the hunt.

"We’re outnumbered and outmatched," Kalia warned, notching an arrow to her bow.

Reed looked down at the merged fragment, then to Shia, whose eyes now held flecks of violet light matching his own. Their newfound connection hummed between them, an untested power waiting to be unleashed.

"Perhaps," he said as the first torches of the approaching cavalry became visible through the trees. "But they don’t yet understand what they’re facing."

The merged fragment pulsed once more, and Reed felt something shift within the very fabric of reality around them—as if the laws that governed the world had suddenly become... negotiable.