A Fading Ember
The last traces of the Soul Siphon’s sting fade, leaving behind a dull, throbbing ache. But at least I can move again. Sprocket’s healing magic hums in my veins, warm like dying embers, while Rocky’s cleansing magic sweeps through me, sharp and crisp—a mountain wind stripping away the last dregs of poison.
I push myself up, hands bracing against the dirt. My muscles scream in protest, stiff and sluggish, but I don’t have time to care. Across the clearing, Ember is still locked in that brutal dance with the Broker. But now—now she’s faltering. Her movements, once relentless, are slowing. Her breath comes in ragged bursts, her daggers dip between swings.
And that bastard? Fresh as a daisy. A daisy sticking out of the snow like a sore thumb.
Every time she carves into him—slashing him down to nearly thirty percent—his wounds just knit themselves back together. No delay, no hesitation. Poof. Full health.
What kind of bullshit mechanic is that? It’s like trying to empty the ocean with a bucket—or mop up the damn desert. And now he’s got her cornered, her back hitting the twisted bark of a gnarled tree. His massive, bladed hand rises high, poised for the killing blow.
I launch forward, throwing my entire weight into a shoulder-check that slams into the Broker’s ribs. The impact rattles through my bones, a collision of flesh and steel that leaves my teeth vibrating. He stumbles, balance momentarily broken.
And then he laughs.
A rough, scraping sound that slithers under my skin like something vile. “Bloody ‘ell, mate,” he drawls, voice thick with amusement. Dark syllables curl from his lips, some foul curse twisting through the air like black smoke. “Ever heard of waitin’ yer bleedin’ turn, you cheeky sod?”
“Switch,” I snap, my voice flat, sharp.
Ember exhales, a mix of relief and—what?
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was enjoying this fight. And not in a way that’s good for me.
Ember and I swap weapons in one fluid motion. She takes my crude spear—nothing fancy, just wood and iron bound by magic—but its self-regenerative enchantment makes it far deadlier than it looks. The second it touches her hands, she moves like she’s always had it, spinning it once, testing its balance. Ember doesn’t just use weapons.
I take her daggers—Twin-Shadowsteel—and immediately feel the difference. They’re light, wickedly sharp, their edges humming with faint magical energy. The hilts settle into my palms like they belong there, like they me. I adjust my grip—left hand parry, right hand duelist stance.
The Broker cocks his head, a smirk twisting his scarred face.
“Oi… come now. That how you lot fight? No honor? No code?” His voice oozes amusement, like this is all a joke to him. Like he’s already won.
“Says the bastard who ” Ember snaps, voice like a whip crack.
For a second—just a second—I hear something familiar. A slip of an accent. A southern twang. It’s not just her either. It’s of them—my companions, little shifts in their speech, quirks that weren’t there before. Like echoes of home bleeding into this world.
The Broker chuckles, a dry rasp. “Ah, yeah. Fair point.”
“Well…” I press my thumb along one of the daggers’ edges, feeling the cold bite of metal. “In my timeline… chivalry’s
dead.”
Then I .
[Soul-Scent]
Active
The world tightens, every living thing pulsing with unseen energy. The Broker’s aura flares into view—sickly green and black, thick as rotting tar.
[Aetheric Speed]
Active
My limbs ignite, the sluggish air turning to a rushing blur. My heartbeat slows; everything else moves faster.
[Soul Infusion]
Active
The daggers vibrate with raw power, a deep hum in my bones.
[Enhanced Senses]
Active
The world sharpens. I hear Ember’s steady breath, the scrape of the Broker’s boot against the dirt, the whisper of steel slicing air as he raises his blade to counter.
He thinks we’ll fight fair.
Big mistake.
[Congratulations!]
You have created a new skill/ability:
Soul-Stride (Active)
A high-level movement technique that fuses Soul-Scent, Aetheric Speed, Soul Infusion, and Enhanced Senses into near-instantaneous translocation. By phasing through the Aetheric currents of soul signatures and energy pathways, you can teleport short distances.
[Activation]
I draw on my soul essence, tugging at the raw Aether swirling around me. The world sharpens—edges crisp, details hyper-focused. Soul signatures pulse in my senses, flickering embers in the void. I reach for one. An enemy’s heartbeat. Its ebb and flow. I lock on.
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[Targeting]
Soul-Scent hones in. The Aether whispers, revealing a fracture in the Broker’s defenses. A weak point. The flow thickens there, a barely perceptible ripple. My muscles coil, the air brimming with tension. I don’t need to see it—I it.
[Execution]
Power ignites. My body dissolves in a burst of shadow and violet light. Aetheric Speed slams through my legs, driving me forward before my mind fully registers the motion. I slip between realms—lost for a heartbeat—flickering like a shattered reflection on water. Reality reasserts itself. I snap back into existence, inches from the Broker. His eyes widen, confusion frozen in the half-second before impact.
[Visual Effect]
Dark smoke spirals from where I stood, curling like grasping fingers before vanishing. A brief afterimage lingers—a wisp of violet-blue mist, a whisper of movement that fades as quickly as it came. A ghost of a presence.
[Congratulations!]
You have unlocked an achievement:
A Soul’s Embrace
[Reward]
Significant experience points
A rare Aetheric crystal
Title: Soul-Strider
The Broker’s eyes snap to where I just was. Too late. His blade swings in a wide arc—a silver streak through the air. I throw up my left dagger to block. The steel bites into my palm, the impact rattling up my arm. My shoulder protests, but I grit through it, twisting to absorb the shock. The Broker stumbles, his side wide open.
I strike.
My right dagger drives into his armpit with a sickening thunk. The hilt shudders in my grip, the force jolting up my arm. Blood sprays—hot, thick—across my cheek. A clean hit. A vital spot. But he barely flinches. His grin only widens, sharp and knowing. His bladed hand jerks back, ready to carve me open.
I shove him off, dodging just as his fingers whistle past my throat.
“EMBER!” My voice cracks through the chaos, raw with urgency. "Use what you learned!"
“YES!” Her reply cuts through the noise, sharp, certain.
Then—
“Father.”
The word slams into me, stopping time for half a breath. My heart stutters. Her voice—strong, steady. Nothing like the scared girl I met before.
Father.
Awe… they grow up so fas—
No…, focus Calloway.
I can’t afford this. Not now. I shove it aside, swallow the lump in my throat. The Broker is still standing. I’m not done until his blood stains the dirt.
The Broker’s grin stretches wide—too wide. It twists his face into something unnatural, something that makes Freddy Krueger look cuddly. Madness flickers in his eyes. His laugh scrapes against my nerves, sharp and jagged, like nails on a chalkboard. It digs under my skin, makes my teeth itch.
I move. Heart hammering. Muscles screaming. There’s no time to breathe.
Then—
A fireball slams into him, exploding in a blinding flash. Heat roars through the air. My skin prickles, the crackle of magic dancing over it. But this isn’t just fire. There’s something more. Something bright. Something alive.
"That’s my girl!" I shout, grinning even as my pulse spikes.
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she . Carefree. Light. The sound catches me off guard—not the battle cry of a warrior, but the kind of laugh you hear around a campfire. A moment of pure joy. Something I haven’t felt in years.
The fight blurs.
I move on instinct, blades flashing, steel ringing, air rushing past me as I weave through the Broker’s attacks. No thought. Just muscle memory. Reflex. Ember is right there, her fire scorching the air, each burst of light magic a deadly masterpiece. She’s fierce—fluid—like she was born for this.
The Broker stumbles. That smug smirk? Gone. He’s strong. Fast. But we’re faster.
Then—
A cold, clinical notification pops up, cutting through the chaos like a dagger to the gut.
[Quest Update]
[The Estranged Father]
Failed
“What…?” My heart skips a beat. My feet freeze. Shaq'rai… her presence. Gone. Just like that. Like a candle snuffed out by the wind. I don’t feel her anymore. Not even a whisper of her energy. Not a trace of her soul. It leaves a hole in my chest, empty and cold, sucking the air from my lungs. A sick dread wraps around my ribs and squeezes tight.
“What happened?” I gasp, my voice thick with disbelief.
Then the Broker’s voice cuts through the shock, sharp and triumphant. "You're wide open!"
Before I can react, it happens. His weapon—jagged, bloodied, and fast—slashes at me. I brace myself, but then, that sound. The one I never wanted to hear.
Bone cracking. Flesh tearing.
It’s not me. It’s her.
I hear it, I feel it, but I can’t make myself believe it.
I turn, but it’s too late. Her eyes lock with mine—wide, glassy, filled with pain. But it’s not her pain. It’s mine. Her body crumples. Knees buckling under the weight of the blow. Blood pours from her side, soaking her clothes, dark and thick. My heart stops. Silence fills my mind, deafening.
The Broker’s laughter rings in my ears.
“Ember!” I scream, but she doesn’t answer.
I drop to my knees beside her, hands shaking as I cradle her. She’s still warm, but the life is draining out of her, slipping through my fingers like sand. I reach into my soul for any magic, anything to save her—but it’s… empty. She’s slipping away, like everything else in this damn world that I can’t hold onto.
Her lips tremble. Her breath is shallow. “Fa—” Her voice is barely a whisper, lost in the wind. My heart shatters. Her body dissolves, fading before my eyes.
I scream, but it’s not me. Something inside me screeches, twisting in agony.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
[The Bonds that Bind Us]
Failed!
[Notice]
[The following are off cooldown]
Mr. Spuds [Now available for summoning]
Soul Rifle: [Now available for summoning]
Aether Edge Sword: [Now available for summoning]
[Notice]
Before her departure, Shaq'rai was able to lift the Soul Shackle that was holding you back. You are now free from Arthur's influence and taint.
[Congratulations]
Due to your ‘Scion’s inheritance,’ you are now eligible for ascension.
Would you like to ascend?
[Yes] / [No]
“Ascend?” My voice shakes.
What else do I have to lose.
“Yes…”