Obsidian Shards Novels & Stories

I sat in the bath until the water cooled, letting steam open my pores, trying to breathe through the pressure in my chest. The obsidian shard lay beside me on a towel. I kept staring at it. It would break the bond. But it might break me too. I pressed my thumb to the edge and nicked the skin. Just a drop. Blood hit the shard and vanished instantly, absorbed like water into sand. The stone hummed. Then it whispered. Not with words. With feeling. Pain, rage, love, regret, hunger. It was all in there. And it was mine. The door creaked.

The chain was adjustable, allowing Aqua to wear the pendant at just the right length so that it rested over her heart. As she wore it, Aqua noticed the stone's clarity, reflecting her calm and balanced state of mind. Whenever she felt at peace, the pendant remained clear and pristine. However, when her emotions stirred, the pendant would change. A slight hue of blue appeared when she felt sadness, while a warm golden tone emerged during moments of happiness. If anger or fear took hold of her, the gemstone would darken, turning a deep, unsettling black.

As we pressed on, the shard in my hand began to dim, its light fading with every step. “Dominic, it’s going out,” I said, panic rising in my chest. He glanced at the shard, his jaw tightening. “We need to keep moving. There has to be a way out of this maze.” But deep down, I knew the truth. The Abyss wasn’t just a place—it was alive, and it wanted us to stay. Ahead of us, the corridor opened into a massive chamber, its floor covered in a swirling pool of black liquid. In the center stood a pedestal, and on it rested an object that radiated with faint light—a second shard, glowing with an intensity that called to me.

When that amount of raw magic goes astray, things tend to blow up or disintegrate. Maybe I need a smaller object to focus on. The poor trees have suffered enough abuse at my hands for one day. Reaching into my pocket I pull out the shard of obsidian I picked up on the day we saved the imprisoned women. It’s become almost like a lucky charm and I’ve taken to carrying it with me every day. Hitting something that’s about the size of my thumb seems like a long shot, but I’m here to test myself. Hopefully I won’t blow it to pieces, I’ve grown very attached to it. Maybe that’s exactly the incentive I need though.

The sight that greeted them was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. In the center of the chamber stood a colossal crystal, its facets pulsing with an inner light unlike anything they had ever seen. It thrummed with an energy that seemed to vibrate through their very bones. Professor Thorne, her voice barely a whisper, identified it as a celestial shard, a remnant of a shattered star, imbued with unimaginable power.

Duncan and Oscar managed to stay on their feet, but they were forced to shield their faces from the blinding light. The black energy began to swirl around little Zach like a miniature tornado, but the boy didn't look hurt. He stood perfectly calm in the center of the storm, his silver eyes glowing with a cosmic, infinite power. Suddenly, a loud, horrific CRACK echoed through the courtyard. The ancient Shard of Destiny—a relic that had survived five hundred years of pack history and handled the blood of dozens of supreme kings—began to split down the center. Deep, glowing silver fractures raced across its surface.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 The square did not explode; it dissolved. What Maya had mistaken for the inert remains of a defeated army; the drift of salt-white ash suddenly betrayed its true nature. It was no longer debris. It was a billion microscopic shards of obsidian glass, animated by a singular, hungry intelligence. It didn't strike with the clumsy weight of the earlier models; it moved with the capillary action of a spilled ink, wicking into the fibers of their wool cloaks and seeking the porous vulnerability of human skin.

ZANE’S POV The rink was my sanctuary, the only place where the world’s noise dulled to a low hum. My skates carved the ice, each stride a desperate bid to outrun the chaos in my head. The Blizzard’s practice facility echoed with the sharp crack of pucks and the shouts of teammates, but I barely heard them. My mind was a storm—Lila Harper’s hazel eyes, her defiant mouth, the way she’d shuddered under me last night.

The moonlight feels warmer. For once, nothing threatened us. Or so I think. A soft flutter of wings broke the laughter. A raven glided down silently and landed beside Lyra’s cradle. Damon stiffens instantly. “Don’t move,” he warned everyone, voice sharp. The bird tilted its head. A single crystal shard dropped from its beak, landing with a faint chime. My breath skipped. It’s black. Pure obsidian. Cracked through the center. Damon knelt slowly, Lyra held tight in his arms. He picked up the shard with two fingers.

She wonders if this is how her life looks from the outside flawless surface, fractured underneath. Her mind drifts back to earlier that day. The meeting. The way Dane had refused to look at her. That same man who once traced her jaw with hands gentler than air now looked at her like she was something made of poison. She hates that it still hurts. Rae returns to the marble, strikes again, harder this time. The sound shatters the quiet. A shard chips off and falls to the floor with a dull thud. She closes her eyes, breath heavy, shoulders trembling.