Obsidian Shards Novels & Stories

“They were meant to keep intruders out.” “Or perhaps to keep something in,” she replied, her tone laced with foreboding. Mason grunted as he examined the entrance. “Let’s hope it’s the former.” With a deep breath, we stepped inside, our footsteps echoing in the silence. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something else… something ancient. And as we ventured deeper, the shadows seemed to press in on us, an almost tangible weight. Finally, we reached the heart of the crypt. There, on a pedestal, lay a shard of obsidian, dark as midnight, pulsing with a faint, otherworldly glow. The Obsidian Tear.

And then, they found it. A small shard of obsidian, pulsing with cold fire, buried deep in the rubble of the ritual chamber. It hummed with power, ancient and terrible, a piece of the Primordial itself. The moment Kaelen's fingers closed around it, he felt the darkness seep into his skin, burning like ice, whispering promises of oblivion. "Where is she?" Kaelen demanded, his voice raw, his grip tightening around the shard. "Where are they? Show me."

"What are you talking about?" Varin's gaze fell across the assembled warriors. "The shards. The way to power that can destroy the Void—is in the rubble beyond. But without destroying it, you will. You will have to break. Break. The way of the past, or darkness shall devour your world." Diva's breath caught. She shared a protracted, questioning glance with Derek, who moved his head slowly. They shared a glance of understanding in a wordless dialogue of hope and fear. The road ahead was a hair's breadth—every step would require sacrifice and push them to their limits.

The Lunar Shard At the center of the ruins, atop a stone pedestal, the Lunar Shard pulsed with an ethereal glow. Kaelan stepped closer, feeling its power thrumming through the air. It was beautiful—translucent, with swirling silver light dancing inside it. "This is it," Leona whispered in awe. Kaelan reached out, his fingers brushing the surface. The moment he made contact, the world around him shattered. Visions of Destruction Darkness consumed his sight. Then— Flashes of fire. A battlefield littered with bodies. Wolves howling in agony. The sky, painted red with blood. He saw himself—not as he was now, but as the tyrant he had once been.

As he stands I quickly pull off my bralet and chuck it in the pile so he doesn't need to touch me again. His eyes are no longer trained on the floor. His pupils are so wide no colour remains, his nostrils are flared as he darts his gaze this way and that taking in every inch of my naked skin now on display for him. I have years of ingrained dirt and grime, too chubby with stretch marks that mar almost every surface, stomach pouch hanging too low, I haven't had the luxury of a razor in a long time. The shame of how I must look to him rots me from the inside.

The Shardlands were unlike any place Aria had ever seen. Shards of crystal jutted from the cracked earth like the spines of a great beast, each one refracting not just light, but memory. Beneath a sky of fractured moons and bleeding clouds, the landscape shimmered with a thousand versions of itself—past, present, and future folding into one. It was a place where time bled, and the truth shattered. Aria stepped forward cautiously, Kael by her side, Lena and Tarek trailing close behind. Their Rootbound allies had refused to come this far. Even the flame-warded scouts had turned back at the edge of the crystal border.

The room was simple but elegant, decorated in soft, calming colors—pale blues and whites that reminded her of the ocean. She turned her head slightly, her body aching with the effort, and saw that the room was spacious, with a high ceiling and large windows that overlooked a pristine beach. The sight of the rolling waves and the endless horizon filled her with a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity. It was as if the world itself had been reborn, cleansed of the darkness and pain that had plagued her life.

Lana's POV My hands started to shake. The box was light, but its contents felt like they carried the weight of burdens. I blinked, hard, sure my eyes were deceiving me. Inside the box, nestled on the silk, wasn’t just anything. Wrapped in delicate silver wire to hold them together, were three jagged, obsidian-like fragments. They were dull in the morning light, but I knew them. I felt them. A low, resonant hum seemed to vibrate up through the block into my bones. Shards of the Holy Grail.

The cost was too visible, etched into the very soil of the North. Kaelen approached us, her boots crunching through the fine white powder that had settled on the stone. She held out a piece of the shattered null-glass we had seen forming during the clash. "The miners are calling it 'Saint-Shard,'" she said, her expression grim. "It’s draining the magic from anything it touches. We can’t let the pack stay out in the valley for long. Their internal fire will be snuffed out by the sheer proximity to this waste."

“ You said these things killed everyone in the palace. What if they’re here for that same reason?” His eyes met mine, sharp and serious. “ They won’t touch you, Liora. I won’t let them.” The way he said it made something twist in my chest, but fear kept me moving. We ran between tents, my feet slipping in the dirt as shadows swirled around us. I could feel the chill of them on my skin, like ice sliding through my veins. We stopped when we reached a line of tall glowing crystals embedded deep in the ground. Their light flickered weakly, but still managed to form a barrier that the shadows hesitated to cross.