THE ILLUSION OF CALM
Dawn was just beginning to break through the broken walls and fallen columns of the compound. Cool air seeped in through the cracks, carrying the scent of damp earth and crushed leaves. Outside, the forest was slowly regaining its rhythm, with the songs of distant birds and the soft rustling of branches stirred by the wind.
Inside, the group had gathered around a makeshift table made of stone planks and scrap wood, where they had placed dried fruit, stale bread, smoked meat, and some clear water that Taliena had purified with her magic. The atmosphere held a certain familiarity: after so much suffering and fighting, having breakfast together felt like a luxury.
Caelithra had been the first to sit down, still with the memory of Zyrion in her mind. She glanced at him from time to time, sleeping apart in a corner, enveloped by the faint white aura that never quite dissipated.
Kyrahna bit into a piece of bread, smiling slightly as she watched Caelithra. "If you keep looking at him like that, you'll wake up before him, but exhausted."
Caelithra looked down at her food, sighing. "I can't help it. Every time I close my eyes, I think about what will happen when I wake up... whether I'll be ready for what's coming."
Karion, in a somewhat brusque tone, intervened as he served himself meat. "What's coming doesn't depend on whether we're ready or not. Taliena has something to show you."
The dark-haired young woman looked up and nodded. Beside her was a book with worn covers, covered in dust and smelling of ancient parchment. She had cared for it ever since she joined the group, as if it were her most precious treasure.
"This book," Taliena began, caressing the almost faded letters on the cover, "tells of legends and myths that have circulated through the kingdoms since before the Great War. Almost everyone thinks they are stories invented to frighten or inspire... but I know that some of them conceal truths."
The others leaned slightly towards her, attentive.
"Among those legends is something called the Supreme Fragment," he continued. "A crystal that wasn't born from the original shattering like the other fragments. This one... is described as the crystal's own will before it broke. The power closest to its origin."
Kyrahna raised an eyebrow. "And you say it actually exists? If it did, Umbraek would have claimed it by now."
Taliena shook her head. "No. According to the book, the Supreme Fragment cannot be found by those who seek it with greed. It is only revealed to those guided by a bond stronger than power… a bond that transcends desire. Perhaps that is why it remains hidden."
Caelithra pressed her lips together and looked at Zyrion again, feeling those words pierce her chest.
Ryvak, who was already stretching, let out a deep laugh. "Perfect. So now we'll chase a myth. I don't mind. After all, our life has already become a walking myth."
Cilera appeared laughing, carrying a piece of fruit. "A myth, a destiny, a half-eaten breakfast… this group needs something more to keep them awake. How about a tournament?"
Everyone turned to look at her with confused expressions.
"A tournament," Cilera repeated, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just between us. To train, to unload what we've been carrying... and because it's been ages since we've truly laughed. Or do you think heroes should only cry and suffer?"
Maerisse, sitting nearby, looked up with a shy smile. "It doesn't sound so bad."
Ysmera, stretching out her arms, added: "It could serve to measure ourselves against each other. To better understand our strengths and weaknesses. Although I suppose Cilera proposes it more for fun than for tactical reasons."
"For both reasons," Cilera replied with a wink.
At that moment, Zyrion moved his head slightly, still unconscious. A heavy silence fell over everyone for a few seconds, until they confirmed he hadn't woken up. It was then that Cilera slammed his palm on the table.
"Perfect. I'll organize it. I'll make the groups and I won't accept any complaints."
Caelithra raised an eyebrow. "Always taking the lead in the fun stuff, huh?"
"Exactly," Cilera said calmly as he began to organize names. "Groups of two, because that's how we measure cooperation. Each pair will have to face another in duels where each match is worth one point. The group that accumulates the most points wins."
Everyone gathered around, intrigued.
Cilera raised his hand and began to say:
"Caelithra with Ryvak. Kyrahna with Tzarelle. Karion with Ysmera. Taliena with Nivhira. And I with Maerisse."
Kyrahna let out a soft laugh. "That was very convenient. You paired up with someone you know can cover for you."
"Obviously," Cilera replied, laughing. "Did you think I was going to play the martyr?"
Taliena stroked her book, letting the pages close on their own. "Then it will be a game of strength, but also of trust. Curious. A reflection of what awaits us with that Supreme Fragment."
Ryvak slammed his fist into the ground, grinning. "I like it. I want to see how quickly I can take down Tzarelle or Kyrahna."
Tzarelle stood up, her long hair falling like dark fire down her back. "You'll have to try that, Ryvak. It won't be easy."
Caelithra looked at everyone, but inside she couldn't shake a strange weight. Participating, laughing, fighting amongst themselves… it all seemed like a respite, an illusion of normalcy. But every time her gaze drifted to the sleeping Zyrion, she knew that all that light air was merely a veil covering a stormy future.
While the others were clearing a space for the tournament, she thought silently:
"When you wake up, Zyrion... I want you to see us smile, even if just for a moment, before the world burns again."
The sun was already climbing higher, casting its warm light upon the village that served as their refuge. Through the weathered wooden roofs and cracked stone walls, the rays illuminated motes of dust dancing in the air. The atmosphere was strange: on the one hand, there was a sense of calm, as if for the first time in a long time there were spaces to rest; on the other, everyone knew that this tranquility was an illusion, that the storm was still waiting for them.
The group's voices mingled in a chaotic harmony: laughter, comments, the clatter of plates, and the aroma of toasted bread on embers. The newcomers—Cilera, Valric, Ryvak, Maerisse, Ysmera, Nivhira, and Tzarelle—had seamlessly integrated into the dynamic. It was a collective respite, though the figure of Zyrion, asleep, remained the focus of their silent gazes.
Cilera was the first to speak, her voice sparkling: "Alright, it's decided. The teams are Caelithra with Ryvak, Kyrahna with Tzarelle, Karion with Ysmera, Taliena with Nivhira, and finally, me with Maerisse. No complaints, no claims, and if anyone complains, they lose a point before we even start."
Ryvak grinned, baring his teeth fiercely. "Perfect. I was getting bored of all this walking and talking about myths. Now I want to test how sharp your claws are."
Kyrahna rolled her eyes as she adjusted her hair. "Always so noisy, Ryvak. But don't get too confident. You don't know what Tzarelle is capable of when she really focuses."
Tzarelle, with his calm expression and deep voice, added: "I don't need concentration. I just need to take you down."
That sparked several laughs. Maerisse, shy as ever, tried to hide her smile as she broke a piece of bread in two. Cilera gave her a gentle nudge. "Don't hide, Maerisse. Today it's my turn to show that together we can shine brighter than any of them."
The young woman lowered her gaze, blushing, but replied with a murmur: "I'll try."
Karion crossed his arms, observing everything in silence. Ysmera noticed and said to him in a light voice, "It seems you're not enthusiastic about the idea."
He replied curtly, "I'm not keen on wasting time. But if this tournament serves to test them, I'll do it. Don't underestimate me, Ysmera, I'm not going to take anyone on."
She smiled slightly, as if she'd been expecting that exact answer. "I don't need you to carry me. Just don't fall behind."
Meanwhile, Caelithra watched Ryvak, her partner. There was something wild about him, an energy that seemed uncontrollable, but also a sense of pride that made him both fascinating and dangerous. "I hope you can keep up with me," she told him, her tone half mocking, half warning.
Ryvak burst out laughing. "I expect you to follow mine. I don't intend to hold back just because it's you."
Taliena had remained silent until that moment, leafing through her book while Nivhira glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. Nivhira broke the ice with a broad smile. "I'm glad you're my partner, Taliena. Perhaps strategy can triumph over brute force."
She looked up, her eyes meeting his. "Perhaps. Or perhaps brute force will learn that strategy is the foundation of victory."
The atmosphere grew lighter with each exchange, as if the air itself had been filled with something new: camaraderie, competition, a desire to demonstrate what each person was capable of. However, beneath that vibrant exterior, some kept deeper silences.
Caelithra, though she smiled at Ryvak's comments, felt that every word he spoke was tinged with an invisible tension. Her mind remained fixed on Zyrion, on his calm breathing, on his unsettling stillness. She wanted to believe in this respite, in the impromptu game, but she knew it was nothing more than a pause before everything would go dark again.
Kyrahna also hid her worry, though she did it in her own way: more laughter, more irony, more words thrown like playful daggers. Perhaps it was her way of resisting, of not breaking down in front of others.
Karion remained distant, rigid as a wall. His concern wasn't obvious, but it was there, buried deep within him. His eyes scanned the ground where they would soon fight, as if he were calculating more than just a simple game.
And Taliena, with her book, concealed more than she revealed. Her words always seemed to have a double edge, and when she spoke of the Supreme Fragment, her voice carried a weight that none of the others could decipher.
As everyone prepared, Cilera clapped her hands to get their attention. "Very well. Simple rules: no killing, no using whole fragments. This is a tournament of skill, not a battlefield. Understood?"
Ryvak laughed loudly. "What if I accidentally break an arm?"
"Then we'll heal him and you'll keep fighting," Cilera replied, still smiling. "No one gets away with excuses."
The village, with its uneven stone floor and central clearing, was transformed into the impromptu tournament arena. The remaining villagers began to peek out, curious, as the group formed a wide circle to leave the center open. The air grew thick with anticipation.
Caelithra took a deep breath, observing everything around her: the laughter, the golden sunlight on the weapons, the murmurs of the spectators, the sound of footsteps on the stone. It was a strange, almost intimate moment. A family made of broken fragments, trying to feel united even though they all kept secrets that no one dared to confess.
Inside, she thought, "This... this is what I want Zyrion to see when he wakes up. That we can still laugh. That we can still fight without hatred. That not everything is darkness."
And so, Cilera announced in a clear voice: "First fight shortly! Let our tournament begin."
The fragments were not born; they were divided.