The Shattered Sky: Only I Do What the Gods Can't

The village of Riverstone had begun to breathe again, though its breath was shallow and strained. Rebuilding efforts had restored pieces of what once was, but the scars of the attack ran deep—visible in the broken homes and in the wary eyes of its people.

For Kael and Lira, the time to leave was drawing near, but they were determined to ensure the village could stand on its own before they departed.

Kael walked through the village square, now a patchwork of repaired structures and makeshift shelters.

The air was filled with quiet determination as survivors worked together, carrying planks of wood, patching roofs, and organizing supplies.

"Water barrels need to be moved closer to the center," Kael said, pointing to the remaining well. "And make sure the food storage is secure. If another corrupted tide comes through, we can't afford to lose what little we have."

Yara, the herbalist who had become a de facto leader among the villagers, nodded. "You've done enough for us, Kael. We'll manage from here."

Still, Kael lingered, watching as the villagers carried out their tasks. He felt a pang of guilt at the thought of leaving, but he knew their path lay beyond Riverstone now.

Lira stood near the meeting hall, comforting a group of children who clung to her like a lifeline. "You'll be safe here," she said softly, her smile warm but tinged with sadness. "Just stick together, and listen to Yara and the others."

The children nodded, their eyes wide with trust. One of them, a boy named Aron, tugged at her sleeve. "Will you come back?"

Lira knelt, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Someday," she promised, though her voice wavered. "And when I do, I want to see how strong you've become."

Kael watched from a distance, the exchange tightening the knot in his chest. The village had always been their home, but now it felt like a part of their past—a chapter they had to leave behind.

That evening, Kael and Lira returned to their home one last time. The building, though damaged, still stood, its walls holding the echoes of their childhood. As they gathered their belongings, Kael noticed something unusual—a loose floorboard near the hearth.

"What's this?" he muttered, prying it open.

Beneath the board was a small chest, its surface worn but sturdy. Inside, they found a collection of items their father had hidden away: a map, weapons, dried provisions, a first aid kit, a bag of 20 silver coins and a sealed envelope.

The map caught Kael's attention immediately. It was detailed, showing not only the surrounding region but also the distant cities of the kingdom. Several locations were marked with faint symbols, their meanings unclear.

"This... he must have prepared this for us," Kael said, his voice thick with emotion.

Lira picked up the envelope, running her fingers over their father's handwriting. "There's a note," she said softly, breaking the seal.

The letter was brief but filled with their father's characteristic pragmatism:

"If you're reading this, it means you've survived. I always knew you would. This map will guide you to the capital, where you'll find someone I trust—a friend who owes me a favor. Give him this note, and he'll help you. Stay together. Stay strong. Master that fragment of yours. And never forget who you are."

'He knew,' Kael thought in surprise. He folded the letter carefully, his resolve hardening. "He wanted us to see the world, Lira. To find a future beyond this village."

Lira nodded, her eyes shining with determination. "Then we will."

The next morning, the villagers gathered in the square to bid Kael and Lira farewell. There were no grand speeches, just quiet words of gratitude and somber goodbyes.

"You've given us hope, Kael," Yara said, clasping his hand firmly. "That's more than we could have asked for."

Kael nodded, his throat tight. "Take care of each other. And if the corrupted return... don't hesitate to run."

Lira hugged several of the children who had gathered to see them off. Aron pressed a small, handmade trinket into her palm—a crude carving of a bird.

"It's for luck," he said shyly.

Lira smiled, tucking the trinket into her pouch. "Thank you, Aron. I'll keep it with me."

As they walked away, the villagers watched in silence, their figures growing smaller with each step Kael and Lira took.

The items their father had hidden proved invaluable. The map showed a clear route to the capital, avoiding areas suspected to be infested with corrupted. The weapons—a short sword for Kael and a pair of lightweight daggers for Lira—felt like extensions of themselves as they strapped them on.

"I've packed everything we'll need," Lira said, tightening the straps of her pack. "Food, water, bandages... and this."

She held up the map, its markings glinting faintly in the sunlight.

Kael nodded, adjusting the strap of his own pack. "Then let's go. The capital won't wait for us."

The path to the capital was long and treacherous, winding through forests, hills, and small settlements. Kael studied the map carefully, tracing their route with his finger.

"We'll head through the Southwood first," he said, pointing to a dense forest. "It's the fastest way, but it's risky. There have been reports of corrupted in that area."

Lira crossed her arms, her expression determined. "Then we'll be ready. We've faced worse."

Kael couldn't help but smile at her confidence. "All right, Southwood it is. Let's move."

Before leaving, They visited their fathers grave one last time then Kael sought out the village elders to pass on his father's final advice. The meeting was tense, the elders' expressions wary.

"You're leaving us now, when we need you the most?" one of them asked, his voice sharp.

Kael met his gaze evenly. "I've done what I can here. But the village won't survive if we don't understand the fragments—and the dangers they bring. If we stay, we're just waiting for the next attack."

Yara stepped forward, her tone calm but firm. "He's right. Let them go. They'll do more good out there than they will here."

Reluctantly, the elders nodded, their resignation clear. "Go, then," one of them said. "But don't forget where you came from."

Kael nodded, his voice steady. "I won't."

As they left the meeting, Lira glanced at Kael. "Do you think they'll be okay without us?"

Kael hesitated, then shook his head. "They'll have to be. And so will we. Besides it's not like we're anyone special."

The weight of their departure pressed on them both, but neither looked back.

Kael and Lira reached the edge of the village, the forest stretching out before them like an open door. The air was thick with the scent of pine, the morning sunlight casting long shadows across the path.

"This is it," Kael said, his voice quiet.

Lira looked over her shoulder one last time, the village barely visible in the distance. "It feels... strange, leaving it all behind."

Kael placed a hand on her shoulder. "We're not leaving it behind. We're carrying it with us. Everything we do, every step we take... it's for them."

Lira nodded, her resolve firm. "Then let's make it count."

Together, they stepped onto the path, the weight of their father's dreams and their own hopes propelling them forward. The world was vast and uncertain, but for the first time, it felt like theirs to shape.

And so, the journey began.