Chapter 3 The First Fragment

Rusk kicked my boots. I opened my eyes. The servant quarters remained pitch black. The freezing air bit at my exposed skin.

"Get up, rat," the overseer whispered. His breath smelled like cheap ale and rotting meat. "Special assignment. The headmaster wants the iron statues in the forgotten wing polished before sunrise. Move."

I sat up. My muscles burned from the previous day of labor. My knuckles were split and scabbed over. I grabbed my wooden bucket and a rusted tin of polish. The forgotten wing. The name itself carried a heavy weight. Highborn students avoided that side of the fortress. Vaelkar stirred in my mind.

The restricted archives, the ancient dark wizard said. His voice echoed inside my skull, a sound like grinding ash and crushed bone. The entrance lies in that exact wing. Fate favors us tonight.

I nodded in the dark. I followed the damp stone corridors and left the main servant areas behind. The grand halls with their bright crystal chandeliers faded into the distance. The air grew colder the deeper I walked. Thick dust coated the uneven floorboards. The polished marble gave way to rough stone. The torches on the walls burned with a weak orange glow. Silence pressed against my ears.

I reached a massive iron door at the end of a long corridor. Runic locks glowed red across the dark metal. A web of elemental magic sealed the entrance. Standard mages needed a master key from the headmaster to enter. I possessed something far better.

I dropped my bucket. I stepped up to the door. I focused on the deep ache in my bones. I pulled the shadow from the corners of the hall. The darkness wrapped around my right hand. I formed a thin spike of pure void. It felt colder than ice. I jammed the shadow spike straight into the glowing runic lock.

The red light flickered and died. The elemental magic shattered under the weight of the abyss. The heavy iron door swung open. No alarms sounded. Void magic bypassed natural elemental wards with zero resistance.

I stepped inside. The air tasted stale. Towering wooden bookshelves lined the massive circular room. Ancient tomes rotted on the shelves. Glass display cases held cursed artifacts and broken wands. In the exact center of the room sat a white stone pedestal. A black wooden box rested on top.

Open it, Vaelkar demanded. His hunger felt like a physical ache in my own gut. My ring. The first piece of my soul resides in that box.

I took a step toward the pedestal. A low growl stopped my tracks.

Shadows detached from the arched ceiling above. A gargoyle dropped to the floor with a deafening crash. The beast was massive. It was made of jagged dark granite and burned with green fire. A guardian beast left behind by the founders. Its stone claws carved deep gouges into the wooden floorboards.

"An intruder," the beast spoke. Its voice sounded like boulders grinding together. "A magicless rat in the archives. I will feast on your marrow."

It lunged. The beast moved fast. I rolled to the side. The gargoyle smashed into a towering bookshelf. Wood splintered everywhere. Ancient books fell to the floor in a massive cloud of dust. The beast whipped its stone tail. The heavy tail slammed into my ribs. I flew across the room and crashed into a glass display case.

Pain exploded in my chest. Glass rained down on my shoulders. I gasped for air. I tasted blood in my mouth.

Tear it apart, Vaelkar commanded. The dark entity fed on my pain. Use the rage. Cut it down.

I pushed myself up from the broken glass. The gargoyle charged again. It opened its stone jaws to bite my head off. I did not run this time. I focused on the anger burning in my chest. I remembered my father and his cold stare. I remembered Xylian and his arrogant smirk. I remembered the heavy oak doors slamming shut in my face.

I pulled a massive wave of darkness from the ambient shadows of the room. A long sword of pure void energy materialized in my grip. The weapon absorbed all the light around it. The gargoyle leaped into the air. I braced my feet against the floor and swung the shadow blade with all my strength.

The void cut through solid enchanted stone with zero resistance. The blade severed the beast in half. Its green fire sputtered and died in an instant. The two stone halves crashed to the floor at my feet. Absolute silence returned to the restricted archives.

I breathed hard and let the shadow's blade dissolve back into thin air. I wiped the blood from my chin and turned toward the pedestal. I grabbed the black wooden box and ripped the lid off.

Inside sat a rusted iron ring. It possessed a strange heartbeat. The metal pulsed against the velvet cushion.

Put it on, Vaelkar hissed in my mind.

I slipped the cold iron onto my index finger. A surge of raw power slammed into my chest. The room spun around me. The void inside my core expanded. The air in the room grew freezing cold as a fraction of Vaelkar regained his true strength. We had the first piece.

Footsteps echoed in the hall outside. Slow deliberate steps. Someone clapped their hands.

"A magicless servant killing a high ward beast in a single strike," a voice said from the open doorway. "How fascinating."

I turned around. A tall man stood in the shadows. He wore the gold trimmed robes of an Arcanum Professor. He held a crimson wand pointed straight at my heart.

"You have ten seconds to explain what kind of dark sorcery you used, boy," the professor said. "Before I burn you to ash."