The Harbinger glided like a darkened specter—too quick, too agile, as if gravity yielded to him. He was at one end of the cathedral, then suddenly he stood before Aeron, his black blade flashing in a broad swing of purple flame.
CLANG!
Aeron scarcely managed to get the hammer up. The blow jarred his bones. Riftlight sparks and darkness exploded across the broken marble floor. The air around them wavered, distorting like heat haze.
Kaela had already retreated into the shadow of a fallen pillar, her bow at full draw, gaze fixed on the Harbinger. She watched for an opportunity, but the Harbinger never remained in one place long enough to present her with one.
"You're quicker than the last one," Aeron snarled, attempting to find balance.
The Harbinger's mask dipped. "I was born of the heart of the Rift. I do not travel through time—I command it."
He lifted his hand.
Time slowed.
Aeron sensed it like a wall of syrup—his body heavy, every breath a battle. The Harbinger advanced slowly, blade aglow, voice echoing in Aeron's skull.
"You are not worthy, Riftbearer. The hammer has selected poorly."
Behind, Kaela fired an arrow—unblessed by fire and speed.
It hit the Harbinger's shoulder.
The world lurched back into motion. Aeron charged forward, fury and strength ablaze. He swung the hammer down with both hands—
BOOM!
The cathedral floor creaked with the impact of the blow. The Harbinger reeled backward, the purple light surrounding him wavering.
Kaela cried, "NOW, AERON!"
He charged, sword swinging again—but this time the Harbinger bent his blade and caught the hammer halfway through the swing, halting it with inhuman accuracy.
They locked gazes.
"You are closer to the truth than you realize," the Harbinger spat. "But you bear the Rift as a weight… not a tie."
He fired a shockwave of shadowy power, propelling Aeron across the cathedral. He slammed into a pillar, stunned, blood oozing down his temple.
Kaela sprinted across the debris-strewn floor, sliding beside him. "You good?"
"I've been better."
"Your hammer's glowing again."
He looked down.
The hammer was pulsing in sync with the Riftcore floating above the altar.
Then he heard it.
Not with ears—but with his mind.
"Claim me, Riftbearer. Bind the pieces. Complete the flame."
Aeron stood, swaying. The Harbinger strode toward him, blade dragging across the floor.
Kaela pulled two throwing knives and stepped forward.
Aeron stopped her.
"No," he replied. "This is my fight."
She paused—but nodded.
Aeron approached the altar. The Harbinger did not hinder him.
"Do you believe that holding it will make you stronger?" the Harbinger asked. "It will annihilate you."
"Perhaps," Aeron replied, his hand extending toward the core. "But I'd rather be destroyed than do nothing."
His fingers made contact with the Riftcore.
The Awakening
Light burst out of the altar, blinding and immense. The cathedral dissolved. Aeron floated in a sea of starlight, unsupported.
He stood amidst memories—Riftbearers past. Warriors, mages, kings, and nomads. They encircled him, watching.
A voice boomed out.
"You have tread the road. You have encountered the dark and the truth. Will you hold the flame to its conclusion?"
Aeron swallowed. "Yes."
The Riftcore bloomed, shattering into a dozen shards, then crashed into the hammer. The runes on its head and handle glowed like a tempest, the metal itself becoming a shining silver, inscribed with glowing lines of sapphire.
And then he was back.
The Second Round
The Harbinger stopped. "What… have you done?"
Aeron took a step forward, the hammer shining brighter than before. Air moved around him with a sheen. The cathedral, however broken, seemed to vibrate with his presence.
"Time to put your theory to the test," Aeron announced, and brought down the hammer.
The shockwave of pure Riftlight pushed forward like a tide. The Harbinger brought up his blade to deflect it—
But light engulfed darkness.
The Harbinger howled as cracks appeared in his armor. "You do not know what you are tampering with! The Rift—"
"Isn't yours to control," Aeron completed.
With one last step, he brought the hammer down on the ground. A surge of power radiated outward, shattering the last of the darkness, ripping through the cathedral like a gust of truth.
The Harbinger was sent flying into the air, his body disintegrating, mask cracking open to show—
A face just like Aeron's.
Eyes full of sorrow. Regret. Power gone wrong.
"You were me," Aeron whispered.
The Harbinger smiled. "Not yet."
And then he was gone.
Silence After the Storm
Kaela approached slowly, eyes wide. "Is it… over?"
"For now," Aeron said, collapsing to his knees. "But we're not done."
He looked toward the altar. The final Riftcore had fused into the hammer. He could feel it now—a complete connection.
And with it came… knowledge.
Visions. Places. A map in his head.
Kaela crouched beside him. "What did you see?"
"Not what is coming," he replied. "But where it originated."
He gazed out east, toward the burning horizon and shattered mountains.
"There is one final place we must visit."
"Where?"
Aeron's gaze narrowed.
"The Origin Rift."