The Shattered Realms series

Kael stood on the deck of the Stormchaser, the wind whipping through his hair as the airship soared through the sky. The floating realms stretched out in the distance like scattered pieces of a shattered puzzle, their edges glowing faintly in the twilight. Despite the breathtaking view, Kael's mind was elsewhere—focused on the small flame flickering in his palm.

"Concentrate," Lira's voice cut through the hum of the ship's engine. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed, her piercing green eyes watching him closely.

"I'm trying," Kael muttered, sweat beading on his brow.

The flame wavered, growing larger for a moment before sputtering out completely. Kael let out a frustrated groan and clenched his fists.

"Trying isn't enough," Lira said, stepping closer. "The Godshard gave you this power, but if you don't learn to control it, it'll control you—and then it won't matter how hard you try."

Kael glared at her. "It's not like I asked for any of this!"

Lira raised an eyebrow. "No, you didn't. But that doesn't change the fact that it's yours now. And if you want to stay alive, you need to learn fast."

She tossed him a small dagger, and Kael barely caught it. "Lesson one: Always be prepared to fight. Powers or not, there will be times when you can't rely on them."

Kael looked down at the blade, its edge glinting in the fading light. "I've never fought with a weapon before," he admitted.

"Then it's time to start," Lira said, drawing her own blade. She moved with a fluid grace, demonstrating a series of basic stances and strikes. "Follow my lead."

Kael hesitated before mimicking her movements. His strikes were clumsy, his footing unsteady, but Lira was patient, correcting his form and offering sharp critiques.

"You're overthinking it," she said after his third failed attempt to parry. "Fighting isn't about perfection. It's about survival. Move like your life depends on it—because it does."

Kael tried again, this time letting instinct guide him. His movements were still awkward, but there was a determination in his strikes that hadn't been there before.

Lira nodded approvingly. "Better. Keep practicing. The Empire won't give you a second chance."

Later that night, Kael sat in the dimly lit cabin, the Godshard resting in his palm. Its faint glow illuminated his face as he stared at it, lost in thought.

The shard pulsed, and a vision washed over him—a swirling vortex of light and shadow. He saw towering figures, their forms blurred but radiating immense power. Voices echoed in his mind, too distant to understand but filled with urgency.

Kael gasped, the vision fading as quickly as it had come. He clutched the shard tightly, his heart pounding.

A knock on the door startled him, and Lira stepped inside. "You okay?"

Kael nodded, though his hands were still trembling. "I saw... something. The gods, maybe. Or what's left of them."

Lira leaned against the wall, her expression unreadable. "The Godshard is connected to them somehow. That much is clear. But you need to focus on the here and now. Whatever answers you're looking for, they won't matter if you don't survive long enough to find them."

Kael looked up at her, determination flickering in his eyes. "Then teach me. Whatever it takes, I'll learn."

Lira smirked. "Good. Because this is only the beginning."

As the Stormchaser sailed through the night, Kael felt a spark of hope. He didn't know what lay ahead, but he was beginning to understand that survival wasn't just about staying alive—it was about becoming strong enough to face whatever came next.