Chapter 5 — The Shattered Bridge
1500 Words
The storm had no sound.
It moved like breath across the land, silent but heavy, each gust thick with ash and starlight. The Vale stretched endless behind them, but before Eirena and Kael loomed a vast horizon of ruin jagged silhouettes against a sky the color of bruised silver.
That was where the Shattered Bridge waited.
The path wound through ravines carved by centuries of fallen magic. The ground glimmered faintly underfoot, as if the stars themselves had once bled here. Kael adjusted the straps of his pack, glancing toward Eirena.
“How much farther?”
“Half a day, if the winds hold.” Her voice was distant, distracted. The thorn hovered beside her shoulder, pulsing like a heartbeat. “But we’ll need shelter before crossing.”
“Because of the storm?”
“Because of what rides in it.”
Kael didn’t ask what she meant. The last time she’d said something like that, celestial fire had fallen from the sky.
They pressed on through the dusk, the silence between them filled only by the faint hum of the thorn’s light. Once, Kael had thought the stars beautiful untouchable, serene. Now he understood why people once prayed to them. They were gods, and gods were terrifying.
By the time night returned, they reached a plateau overlooking the ocean.
Or what had once been an ocean.
The water glowed faintly from beneath, rippling with veins of trapped light. Broken towers jutted from the surface like the bones of giants, and across the expanse stretched what remained of the Bridge a colossal arch of stone and crystal, fractured in a dozen places, each segment suspended in midair by invisible force.
Eirena’s breath caught. “It’s still here.”
Kael stepped to the edge. “You said it was sealed.”
“It was.” She reached out, feeling the hum in the air. “Something reopened it.”
“Any chance that something is friendly?”
“Not likely.”
Lightning flickered through the storm clouds above, illuminating the fragments of the bridge like shards of a broken halo. At its farthest point, faint and unreachable, a light pulsed rhythmically calling.
“That’s where the next thorn lies,” she murmured.
Kael frowned. “And how exactly are we supposed to cross that?”
She smiled faintly. “Carefully.”
They made camp beneath the shadow of a broken spire. Kael coaxed a small fire from the dry moss scattered around the rocks. Eirena sat nearby, studying the crystal bow she’d taken from the Sanctum. The weapon no longer shone as before—its light flickered, almost afraid.
Kael noticed her silence. “You’re thinking about the Hunters.”
“I’m thinking about what I did to them.”
“You didn’t have a choice.”
“That doesn’t change what it was. I unmade them, Kael. No trace, no soul left to return to the stars. Even the Queen doesn’t destroy like that.”
He watched the firelight play across her face haunted, beautiful, too young to carry so much weight. “You’re not the Queen. You’re the reason the stars still have a chance.”
She met his eyes. “You make it sound simple.”
“It’s not. But I’m here anyway.”
Something in her expression softened. “Why are you here, Kael? You could’ve left when you had the chance.”
He thought about it. The memory of his ruined village, the sky burning as the Queen’s light devoured it, the moment he’d found Eirena instead of death.
“Because when the world ended, you didn’t look away,” he said quietly. “You fought to make it mean something. That’s more than anyone else has done in a long time.”
Eirena looked away, pretending to adjust the bowstring. “You give me too much credit.”
“Maybe. But I think you’re afraid you might deserve it.”
She laughed softly, though there was no humor in it. “You’re learning to talk like a fae, Kael.”
He smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Sometime past midnight, Eirena woke with the sense of being watched.
The fire had burned low, but the storm outside had gone still eerily still. The thorn hovered above her chest, trembling. She reached for her bow, but before her fingers brushed it, a voice drifted from the darkness.
“Child of the fading line,” it said softly. “You should not have come.”
Kael stirred awake, hand already on his dagger. From the edge of the camp, a figure emerged cloaked in tattered robes, eyes like molten glass. Its skin shimmered faintly, as if made from starlight that refused to fade.
Eirena rose slowly. “Who are you?”
The figure inclined its head. “One of the Forgotten. We were the architects of the Bridge. When the Queen sealed it, we were bound to the cracks between realms. Now we wait—for those foolish enough to reopen the path.”
Eirena took a step forward. “We seek the thorn that lies beyond the bridge. Will you let us pass?”
The Forgotten’s expression twisted into something like sorrow. “The path devours what crosses it. Only those claimed by both realms may walk it.”
Kael glanced between them. “Claimed by both realms? Like… her?”
The Forgotten’s gaze fell on Kael, and for a moment its eyes softened. “Like you both. The bond that ties you is the first of its kind since the dawn of the stars. But it will not save you. The Bridge remembers every soul that tried to cross. It hungers for them still.”
Eirena hesitated. “Then tell us how to pass safely.”
“There is no safe passage,” it whispered. “Only sacrifice.”
Before she could ask more, the figure began to fade, dissolving into motes of light. “When the storm calls, follow the silence. It will lead you to the truth of your bond.”
And then it was gone.
Kael let out a shaky breath. “That was… cryptic.”
Eirena frowned, staring at the place where the Forgotten had stood. “They’re remnants of the first rebellion. Bound between worlds for defying the Queen. If they appeared to us, it means the Bridge is waking.”
“Waking?”
She nodded. “And bridges that wake tend to want blood.”
By dawn, the storm had returned rolling in from the horizon like a sea of silver mist. The ocean beneath the bridge glowed brighter, as if stirred from sleep.
Eirena and Kael stood at the foot of the first fragment. The air buzzed with magic so dense it tasted of iron.
Kael studied the gap between the floating slabs of stone. “That’s at least twenty feet of open air. Do we jump, or…?”
Eirena raised the thorn. Its light extended in a thin arc, forming a translucent bridge of crystal between the fragments.
He blinked. “Ah. Magic. Of course.”
“Don’t fall,” she said lightly. “It doesn’t like that.”
He stepped onto the bridge carefully. The surface rippled like water but held his weight. Below, the ocean churned with faint whispers voices that weren’t wind.
Halfway across, Eirena froze. “Kael do you hear that?”
He paused. The whispers grew louder, forming words overlapping, desperate.
“Give it back…”
“The light was ours…”
“The stars remember…”
The air thickened. Faces formed in the mist below—hollow-eyed, shimmering, reaching upward. The bridge shuddered beneath them.
Kael’s hand shot out, gripping Eirena’s arm. “They’re trying to pull us down!”
Eirena clenched her jaw, channeling the thorn’s light through the bridge. The whispers turned to screams, then silence. The glow steadied once more.
“They were the first ones to fall,” she said softly. “Souls caught between realms when the Crown shattered the Bridge. They’ve been here ever since.”
Kael looked down at the calm water, now reflecting the faint outline of stars. “Let’s keep moving before they change their minds.”
They crossed fragment after fragment, the storm closing around them like a curtain. Lightning danced above, illuminating the endless void between the pieces. Each step felt heavier, as if the air itself resisted their passage.
When they reached the largest platform, the thorn suddenly flared, brighter than before. Eirena staggered, clutching her chest.
“Eirena!” Kael caught her as she fell to one knee. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the thorn it’s resonating with something.”
From the storm ahead, a glow began to form. At first faint, then growing massive, circular, spinning slowly like a wheel of light. Within it, shapes moved figures of wing and flame.
Kael’s stomach sank. “Please tell me those aren’t what I think they are.”
“They’re the guardians,” Eirena whispered.
- Writer
