Chapter 34: Whispers in the Obsidian Wind
The cliffside winds howled with a dissonant hum, as if the land itself remembered battles long past. Ashen Aras sat with his legs folded beneath him, the obsidian boulder under him pulsing with heat remnants—like echoes from a dead volcano. His breathing was calm, yet the aura around him shimmered, resonating with the magnetic lattice of the planet. Each pulse was a declaration: he was no longer bound to the Earthlike limits of a Martial Realm cultivator.
He had stepped beyond.
Early Planet Realm.
Not just strength. Not just speed. But awareness. Every breath he took let him feel the tug of the planet's magnetic field—the silent heartbeat of the world. He didn't fly with spiritual force or core pressure. He simply synced with the world's will and glided like a thread caught on the wind.
Nearby, Revyn stood by the edge of the cliff, arms crossed, his gaze scanning the moonlit distance. His own aura had begun to pulse erratically. Peak Martial Realm, but cracking. He'd reach Planet realn soon—maybe within the week or next week.
Keyven crouched beside a series of small bone runes etched into the ground, whispering calculations and flipping through a folded scroll etched with sigils. Mid Martial Realm, steady but unhurried. He didn't push; his strength came with experience, not ambition.
Kaelis... was gone.
Ashen opened one eye, his spiritual sense searching for him. A whisper of shadow flickered against a nearby pine.
"I know you're watching," Ashen said without turning.
Kaelis stepped out from the treeline, his movements silent, untraceable. "I needed to be sure you weren't followed."
"You weren't," Revyn said curtly. "They wouldn't risk another patrol. Not after what he did to the last one."
Ashen slowly stood, brushing off his hands. "Any word from the Veiled Conclave?"
Kaelis's eyes darkened. "Yes. That's why I returned." He reached into her cloak and withdrew a narrow stone tablet wrapped in velvet. With a touch of Chaos resonance, the sigils along the edges shimmered and shifted.
Ashen stepped closer, recognizing the fractal glyphs. The message was embedded into the stone itself—only those with chaos affinity could read it.
"Ashen Aras, bearer of the Stellar Chaos bloodline," the message began, "the Conclave has taken notice of your awakening. The Veil thins, and the Scales tremble. Seek the shrine beneath the Gloamspire before the next moon darkens. Only there may the Pact be remembered. Only there may you decide."
Kaelis let the words settle before speaking. "This isn't an invitation. It's a summons."
Keyven muttered a curse. "Gloamspire is five territories east. That's blood lands. Slaver fortresses. Warlord patrols. And more cult presence than I care to count."
Revyn stepped forward. "We'll go. It's not about comfort anymore. It's about control. If Ashen's power keeps growing... someone has to teach him to harness it before it consumes more than enemies and go out of control."
Ashen didn't disagree, he knew how dangerous Chaos is and the consequences of weilding it without guidance and knowledge will consume him and his friends and allies.
---
The next morning, they moved.
Kaelis led, his presence dissolving through the trees like smoke. Keyven followed closely, using a compass forged from sky-iron to detect warping ley lines. Ashen stayed close to the rear, scanning for pursuers while internally unraveling the first layering of the Thread of Ruin.
He'd barely scratched the surface.
Each invocation came easier. The chaos wasn't fighting him—it was merging with him. He began seeing pathways others couldn't. He could sense how energy fractured, how time bent slightly at the edge of memory.
The deeper they traveled, the more twisted the terrain became. Buildings half-consumed by crystallized fungi. Rivers that flowed backward under shattered sky reflections. It was as if the world here had been grazed by a fallen star.
By the third night, they arrived at the ruins of Orren's Wake—a forgotten bastion once built by starbound monks. The towers were crumbling, but the inner sanctum remained sealed.
Kaelis halted. "We will rest here tonight. This place was built to repel spiritual detection. It's as safe as it gets."
They entered a shattered archway that led into a cavern beneath the ruins. Moss glowed faintly, illuminating ancient carvings of dragons coiled around a black sun in the void.
Ashen sat by the wall, tracing the grooves with his fingers trying to decipher it.
"Not Chaos dragons," he whispered. "Stellar dragons. They fought against Chaos. Yet one of them... chose to become it."
Revyn tossed him a flask. "You're not the first to carry their legacy. But you might be the first to bear it willingly."
"Do you regret merging with the egg?" Kaelis asked suddenly. Not judging—just curious.
Ashen thought long.
"No," he said. "But sometimes I forget which thoughts are mine. And which are... inherited."
Kaelis nodded slowly. "The Conclave may help you distinguish."
"Or bind me for what I carry," Ashen muttered.
---
That night, Ashen meditated again. The Thread of Ruin wove through his mind like a low hum. His aura pulsed, slightly darker, but focused. The boundary between his spirit and the dragon's remnants had thinned. Not erased—but blurred.
Visions danced behind his eyes.
A sky torn asunder. A blade that split suns. A voice whispering from the void: "We were broken to become whole. You must choose the fracture."
Ashen snapped awake, sweat beading his brow.
Outside, Kaelis was standing again, watching the wind ripple across the cliffside like ghostlight.
"They're getting closer," Kaelis murmured. "I can feel the Eye. One of the Seven Heralds may already be in the region."
Ashen stepped beside him. "Do we still head for Gloamspire?"
Kaelis turned. "We don't have a choice."
---
By dawn, they were gone.
Orren's Wake stood silent behind them, the echoes of dragons long buried, and the pulse of a fractured future gaining speed.
Ashen didn't look back. He couldn't afford to anymore.
The world ahead was chaos—but so was he.
And for the first time, he wasn't afraid.