Obsidian Shards Novelas e Histórias

Tony Kaymaer roared, a sound that made me cover my ears in pain as it reverberated through the empty battle planet. His form contorted as he grew larger. He was now bony, his skin stretched across his lanky frame. His skin was obsidian black, absorbing all light that came into contact with it. The three shards fused, into one bigger one and went through his chest. The amount of energy he was releasing was so large, that it felt oppressive. I felt dizzy already and looked beside me to see Míriel unconscious. Zeus sat back, regrowing his arm and watching the battle that was about to unfold.

“You’re finally here. You made it.” She twisted a knob on the wall and smeared a droplet of blood across its surface, and a small carved space appeared in the wall. There, hovering above a pedestal, carved with celestial runes, was a shard of obsidian, small, jagged, and glowing faintly crimson at its core. The relic, forged in the cave of the gods, stolen by traitors, and lost to time. But now… Found. Ophelia reached for it. The instant her fingers grazed the surface, pain pierced through her chest, bright and hot, like a blade piercing bone. Her back arched as memories slammed into her skull.

The Spire of Obsidian With its angular shape piercing the amber haze of the desert, the Obsidian Spire rose above the horizon like a sinister sentry. Standing at the edge of a rocky outcrop, Zara, Elara, and their newest friend, Lyra, looked towards their objective. The polished black stone glinted menacingly in the waning light, and it towered unnaturally tall. "That's it," Zara whispered. Her heart thumped uneasily, but she spoke steadily.

She let the shadows curl around her instead. The walls still bore the marks of her life before. Books. Maps. Half-drained vials on the desk. The shawl Elara had left on the back of her chair. But none of it felt like it belonged to her anymore. She sat at the edge of the bed and opened the pouch at her hip. The obsidian shard slid into her palm like it had been waiting for her touch. Cold. Heavy. Familiar. It caught the sliver of moonlight sneaking in through the high windows, and for a moment she thought she saw movement inside it - like smoke or memory, coiling deep within its glass-black heart.

The obsidian shard rested on the wooden table, its dark surface shimmering with an unnatural light. Seraphina leaned over it, her face a mixture of fascination and concern. The air in the room felt heavier since the shard had been brought in, as though it carried its own oppressive presence. “This isn’t just any relic,” Seraphina murmured, tracing the runes etched into the shard with a gloved finger. “It’s a fragment of something far more dangerous.” “What do you mean?” Lucas asked, standing at her side. His arms were crossed, his eyes narrowed.

The ribs part like curtains. Inside: a cathedral of frozen blood and candlelight. In the center, suspended in a sphere of black ice, float three perfect crown shards—pulsing like dying hearts. I step forward and speak the softest, cruelest word I own now: Thaw. The ice explodes into harmless steam. The shards scream (literally) as they tear free and slam into my bloodstone in a triple flash of crimson lightning. Crown HUD: 38 / 47 → 41 / 47

had softened into a gentle, rhythmic pulse that illuminated the night. Killian pulled a small, silver object from his pocket. It was the shard of the "Obsidian Blade" that had snapped during the fight with the Bone King. He held it out to me. "I don't want to carry a weapon anymore," he said. I took the shard. With a thought, I summoned the "Holy Fire," let it flow through my fingers and into the dark stone. The obsidian didn't melt; it transformed. The black glass turned translucent, then white, until it was a piece of pure, polished quartz that glowed with a soft interior light.

Many clients swiftly gravitated to Kamman's system, developing a profound sense of trust in a world that was as treacherous as theirs. With the Bronze Orchid strictly restricting its supply to only its authorized channels, product quality soared, attracting high-profile clients, including nations. Those who had eagerly waited for him to fail were ultimately silenced. They shamefully bowed their heads and retreated into their shells. Arman Khaleed, the sole individual who had shared Kamman's vision from the beginning, was beyond satisfied, his admiration and loyalty deepening immeasurably.

The pack watches as she pulls the shard free, its obsidian surface pulsing with faint light. “One down,” Ryland says, his voice tight. “How many more?” “Two,” Selene replies. “But they’re not close.” --- **The Second Shard** The second shard lies in the Shadow pack’s territory, hidden in the ruins of Zane’s fortress. The air reeks of decay, the walls crumbling under the weight of time. Jarek steps forward, his gaze sharp. “This place is cursed.” “We don’t have a choice,” I say, my voice firm.

The air shimmered, distorted by heat and magic. She dismounted, her boots sinking into scorched soil still warm beneath her feet. Ahead, the crater steamed , wide, deep, and glowing from within. Sienna stepped forward, drawn by something she couldn’t resist. At the crater’s center lay the shard , a massive fragment of translucent crystal, humming with the same pulse as her wrist. It was beautiful, terrible, alive. Her fingers twitched. She should have feared it. Every instinct screamed to stay back. Yet the closer she drew, the more the world seemed to fade , sound dulling, color draining, until only the shard remained, a beacon in the void.