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shardborn

Block_Craft28
7
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Synopsis
In a world shattered by ancient magic, power lies dormant within elemental stones—shards of a forgotten war between gods and mortals. These stones are rare, dangerous, and capable of granting incredible abilities to those who can wield them… or destroying them from within. The story begins in the heart of the burning desert, where survival is uncertain and the past refuses to stay buried. Alzath, a quiet and mysterious traveler, stumbles upon Snyx, a young boy barely alive, half-buried in sand. What begins as a reluctant rescue turns into a journey that will reshape their fates. As the pair cross the desert toward the mysterious city of Celestara, they uncover more than just answers—ancient forces stir beneath the sands, and twisted forests lie beyond, guarded by secrets that bend reality. Monsters of flesh and shadow, masked assassins, and cursed memories follow their every step. Snyx seeks his grandfather, who vanished while searching for a cure to a deadly disease ravaging their village. Alzath seeks something darker—answers about his forgotten past and the strange water-based power he carries, tied to a shard unlike any other. When their paths cross with a warped forest and a bandit ambush, they learn the truth: the stones are awakening, and not everyone who carries one is still human
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Chapter 1 - Shardborn

Alzath trudged forward, each step sinking into the scorched sand. The sun didn't just shine here—it punished. 

 

He wasn't sure why he bothered looking for shelter anymore. Maybe it was force of habit. Or maybe... because this time, he'd found something unexpected. 

 

A boy. Half-buried in the dunes. Still breathing. 

"Damn it," Alzath muttered. 

He almost walked past. Almost. 

Something about the kid's presence gnawed at him. Like a memory he couldn't place. 

"Ugh, why is it so hot here..." 

Snyx complained, wiping sweat from his forehead as the sun beat down relentlessly on the desert sands. 

"Because we're in the middle of a desert, kid," said Alzath, his tone calm but firm. 

They continued walking, their footprints the only sign of life in the endless dunes. The desert stretched far beyond the eye could see—barren and unforgiving. 

After a moment of silence, Snyx spoke again, curiosity getting the better of him. 

"By the way, sir... what are you doing out here? Are you heading to the Celestara too?" 

"I am," Alzath replied simply, eyes fixed on the horizon. "Got some business there." 

Snyx hesitated before asking, 

"Then... why did you save me? I mean, I was just lying there in the middle of nowhere..." 

Alzath glanced at him, then looked away. 

"Honestly, I thought you were dead. Nearly walked past. But something about you... didn't feel right to leave you behind." 

(Was it the right choice...? I still don't know. What if he's a bandit? But he's just a kid... maybe a merchant like me?) 

Alzath kept the thought to himself as they trudged on. 

After a few minutes of silence, Snyx finally opened up. 

"I'm looking for my grandfather," he said quietly. "He left our village a while ago... searching for a cure." 

"A cure?" Alzath slowed his pace. 

"Yes. People in my village are dying. There's a disease spreading—one we've never seen before. We try to isolate the infected, but it's not enough. We've already lost so many..." 

His voice trembled. 

"My grandpa went to the Celestara to find an antidote. But it's been weeks. We don't know if he's even alive." 

Alzath stopped walking and looked at the boy beside him. For a moment, he said nothing. 

(So the rumors were true... but a boy crossing the desert alone for this?) 

Snyx took a deep breath. 

"I don't know what happened to him. But I have to find out. Even if he's gone... even if..." 

His voice faltered. 

He looked away, then added, 

"Thanks for saving me, sir." 

Alzath looked toward the setting sun. 

"Couldn't let a kid die right in front of me," he muttered. "Anyway, the sun's going down. We should find shelter." 

"Where are we going to stay?" 

"We'll find something. Keep your eyes open." 

After walking another few hundred meters, they came across a large, flat rock that offered some shade from the wind. It would have to do for the night. 

"Ah, sorry... that was my stomach," Snyx said, embarrassed. 

"It's fine. We should eat something," Alzath said as he unpacked a small pot, some dried vegetables, and a flask of water. 

They made a simple soup, shared it in silence, then leaned back against the rock—exhausted but grateful. 

"You sleep first," Alzath said. "I'll keep watch." 

"Why? Can't we both sleep?" 

"Can't risk it. We don't know who—or what—might be out here. One of us has to guard our things." 

Snyx nodded and lay down. Alzath watched the horizon, silent and thoughtful. 

After a few hours, they switched. By sunrise, both had gotten some rest. 

The journey resumed with the first light of dawn. 

An hour later, Snyx suddenly shouted, pointing ahead. 

"Sir! Look! A tree!" 

Alzath raised his head. 

A massive tree towered in the distance, rising like a giant in the endless sand. 

"We're really at the edge of the desert?" Snyx asked, awe in his voice. "We made it!" 

"Looks like it," Alzath said. "Let's check it out. But stay alert. We don't know what's waiting." 

Snyx ran toward the tree, laughter echoing behind him. 

Alzath sighed and followed at a steadier pace. 

The scenery shifted dramatically as they entered the forest. Enormous trees, unlike anything they'd seen before, loomed overhead. The air was cooler. Birds the size of wolves perched in the branches, their feathers shimmering. A pristine lake sparkled nearby, so clear they could see the fish gliding beneath the surface. 

Animals gathered around the water's edge, unafraid. The scent of damp earth, old wood, and blooming windflowers filled the air. 

"This place is... amazing," Snyx whispered. 

"It's definitely not normal," Alzath muttered, eyes scanning the area, cautious. 

"Still, we shouldn't get distracted," he added. "We need to find help." 

"I think we should split up," Snyx said. "We'll cover more ground." 

Alzath hesitated. 

(Is that safe?) 

But the boy looked determined. 

"...Alright. We meet back here in an hour. Don't go too far." 

Snyx nodded and ran off into the forest. 

Alzath watched him go, then turned the other direction. 

Alzath walked with purpose, heading the opposite way from where they'd entered. Something about this place gnawed at him. Maybe a walk would clear his thoughts... or confirm his fears. 

But the farther he went, the worse it got. 

Why is the forest thinning out? he thought, eyes narrowing. 

Trees that had stood thick and towering now gave way to scattered patches of open space. Sunlight spilled through in unnatural ways—as if the forest itself were being peeled back. 

"This... isn't right," Alzath muttered under his breath. "This forest doesn't feel normal." 

The wind whispered through the leaves, carrying a silence that screamed danger. He felt it now—clearly. A pressure in his chest, low and heavy. 

"I should get back to Snyx. Something's not right. I've got a bad feeling about this." 

He turned to retrace his steps— 

—and froze. 

A tree stood directly behind him. Gnarled and towering, it looked stitched together from nightmares. Its branches curled unnaturally, spiraling and twisting like skeletal limbs, reaching skyward. 

It hadn't been there before. He was sure of it. 

"What the hell...?" 

Compelled by a mix of dread and curiosity, Alzath stepped closer. 

His boots crunched over dead leaves. His hand trembled as he reached out and touched the bark. 

The moment his fingers made contact, a chill surged through him—like ice in his veins. 

His breath caught. 

The forest shimmered for a moment, almost like a mirage. 

Something had shifted. 

"No way..." he whispered, stepping back in alarm. "We're trapped." 

The words tasted bitter on his tongue. 

"We must leave. Now." 

 

Meanwhile... 

Snyx darted through the trees, full of excitement. 

"Wow!!" 

He shouted, spinning with a grin. His eyes sparkled as he gazed up at the towering trees. 

"This forest is huge! I've never seen anything like it!" 

He skipped over moss-covered roots and weaved between thick trunks, laughing. 

"This place is amazing! I don't know why Sir Alzath was so worried!" 

After a few steps, he spotted a house in the distance. 

Wanting to check if it was abandoned, he hurried toward it. 

Through one of the windows he saw a light—someone was inside. 

Realizing someone lived there, a spark lit in his eyes, and he sprinted back. 

"Alzathhh~~!" 

A chill ran down Alzath's spine as he heard Snyx's voice. 

He sprinted toward him. 

But what he saw froze him in place. 

A masked bandit, skull emblazoned on his face, stabbed Snyx in the back. 

"No... this can't be—" 

Alzath fell to his knees, tears welling in his eyes, heart throbbing. 

(It's all my fault... I let my guard down. I should've protected him.) 

"I'm... fine..." Snyx whispered, his chest growing cold as his eyes began to close. 

 

~ A Memory ~ 

"Snyx, come with me. We're going to my hometown." 

"Why, Grandpa?" Snyx asked, curious. 

"There's something I want to show you." 

(It's time to see if he's worthy of that power—or not.) 

"What is it, Grandpa?" 

Sigh... 

He lifted Snyx onto his shoulder and started walking. 

"The place we're going is where I grew up. Our family has lived there for generations." 

"Then why do we live so differently from others?" 

"It's still too early for you to understand." 

After hours of walking, the village came into view. 

"Wake up, kid. We're here—in the Village of Smith." 

As they approached, an old man shouted, 

"Oren? Is that really you? So you came back." 

"Sorry, Elder Haland, I'm in a hurry. We'll talk later." 

"This village is smaller than I imagined. Grandpa, where's our house?" 

They walked to an old building covered in spiderwebs. 

Oren rushed to the attic and returned with a wooden box. 

"Open this. There's something interesting inside." 

Snyx tried, struggling, but failed. 

(What did I expect? He's only eight. Maybe next time.) 

"Grandpa, look at this—" 

 

Snyx slowly opened his eyes. 

He saw Alzath, blood-covered, battling the masked bandit. Alzath moved like water—literally. Streams of liquid floated and slashed at his enemies. 

"What the hell... how can Alzath use water to fight? And why is he covered in blood?" 

Alzath finished off the last bandit—but he hadn't been fast enough. 

Snyx lay dying, breath shallow. 

"S-Sir... who are you... really...?" 

"...Even I don't know who I am..."