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

Dawn broke over Riverstone, but the sun's light brought no warmth or comfort.

Instead, it illuminated a landscape of utter devastation. Smoke rose in spirals from the charred remains of buildings, drifting into a pale gray sky. The cobblestone streets, once alive with the sound of daily life, were littered with debris—splintered wood, shattered tools, and remnants of what had once been a thriving village.

Kael and Lira stood at the edge of the square, their faces pale and drawn. Where the heart of Riverstone had once stood, there was now only ruin.

The granary was reduced to ashes, its blackened frame leaning precariously. The meeting hall, their last sanctuary, had collapsed inward, its roof caved and its walls cracked.

The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning wood and the metallic tang of blood. Bodies lay scattered across the square, a grim testament to the battle that had raged through the night. Some were villagers, their makeshift weapons still clutched in lifeless hands. Others were corrupted, their fragmented forms still glowing faintly as if refusing to accept their own destruction.

Kael clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. His gaze swept over the wreckage, each detail etching itself into his mind. A child's toy lay abandoned near the remnants of a barricade, its bright colors dulled by soot. A single boot sat overturned by the well, its owner nowhere in sight.

For Lira, the scene was overwhelming. She swayed on her feet, her breaths shallow and rapid. The enormity of the destruction was too much to process. This was her home, the place where she had grown up, now unrecognizable.

"It's... all gone," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The weight of the loss bore down on both of them like a physical force.

For Kael, it felt like an unraveling, a slow, agonizing dismantling of everything he had fought to protect.

He had known they were outnumbered, had understood the odds, but standing here now, in the aftermath, he felt the sharp sting of failure.

Lira fell to her knees, her hands clutching at the dirt. Tears streamed down her face, her sobs raw and unrestrained. The sound cut through the stillness, a painful reminder that grief was the only thing left.

Kael knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He wanted to say something—anything—to ease her pain, but the words wouldn't come. What comfort could he offer when he felt just as broken?

For a long moment, they stayed there, lost in their shared sorrow.

Kael's tears came slowly, reluctantly, as though his grief was something he had tried to suppress. His shoulders shook as the weight of the night pressed down on him.

He had always tried to be the strong one, the protector, but now, in the ruins of their village, he couldn't hold back.

Lira's sobs grew quieter, her body trembling as she clung to her brother. "Why... why did this happen?" she choked out.

Kael didn't have an answer. All he could do was hold her, his own tears falling silently.

Eventually, the need to act began to override their grief. Kael took a deep breath, forcing himself to stand. "We need to find the others," he said, his voice rough. "There might still be survivors."

Lira nodded, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She didn't speak, but the determination in her eyes mirrored Kael's.

Kael and Lira began their search, moving methodically through the wreckage. They called out as they went, their voices echoing eerily in the stillness.

"Is anyone there?" Kael shouted, his heart pounding with a mix of hope and fear.

At first, there was no response. The silence was deafening, each unanswered call chipping away at their resolve. But then, faintly, they heard a voice.

"Over here..."

Kael and Lira ran toward the sound, weaving through the debris. They found a group of villagers huddled near the remnants of a wall. Many were injured, their faces pale and their clothes stained with blood.

Kael knelt beside an older woman whose arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. "We'll get you out of here," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

Lira tore strips of fabric from her tunic to bind wounds, her hands shaking but steady. She whispered words of comfort to the wounded, even as her own grief threatened to overwhelm her.

The survivors clung to Kael and Lira's presence like a lifeline. Their gratitude was muted, their faces etched with the same grief and exhaustion that Kael and Lira felt.

Kael and Lira's search for survivors soon became a desperate quest to find their father. Each body they passed filled them with dread, their hearts racing as they scanned faces and clothing.

"Please, no," Lira whispered each time they approached another lifeless form.

Finally, near the center of the square, they found him. Marcus's body lay crumpled, his axe near him, along with a corrupted's dead body. His face was peaceful, almost serene, but the sight of him was like a knife to their hearts.

Lira collapsed beside him, her cries piercing the silence. She clutched his hand, her tears falling onto the dirt. "Dad, no... please..."

Kael stood frozen, his chest tight. He wanted to stay strong for Lira, to be the anchor she needed, but his composure crumbled. He dropped to his knees, his tears flowing freely as he reached out to touch his father's shoulder.

"I should've been here," Kael said, his voice breaking. "I should've done more."

Lira shook her head, her sobs making it hard to speak. "He... he saved us. He... kept us safe."

Kael wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "We'll make it through this," he whispered, though he wasn't sure he believed it. "We'll make him proud. His sacrifice won't be in vain"

As Kael and Lira continued their search, they encountered corrupted stragglers. The attackers moved slowly, their fragmented forms malfunctioning in the aftermath of the battle, but they were still dangerous.

Kael gripped his spear tightly, his movements deliberate. Each strike was precise, driven by a mixture of rage and determination. He couldn't afford to falter—not now.

Lira stayed close, her own fragment beginning to hum faintly with energy. She didn't understand it yet, but it gave her a strange sense of strength, as though her father's spirit was with her.

Near the edge of the village, they found a man sitting against a wall, his weapon resting on his lap. For a moment, Kael thought he was one of the injured survivors.

"Sir?" Kael called out, approaching cautiously.

The man didn't respond. As they drew closer, Kael realized why. The man was dead, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

Lira gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Kael closed his eyes briefly, the sight was another reminder of the night's horrors.

"We can't stay here," Kael said softly, guiding Lira away. "There's nothing we can do for him."

As the sun rose higher, its light revealed the full extent of Riverstone's destruction. Kael and Lira stood together, their hearts heavy but their resolve unbroken.

The village was gone, but its people—the survivors—were still here. And for them, Kael and Lira would keep going. They would find strength in each other, in the memory of their father, the fallen, and in the hope that, somehow, they could rebuild.

Because even in the face of overwhelming loss, life endured. And so would they.