Chapter 8: Echoes of the Crimson Obelisk

The crimson sands whispered with a haunting chill as Ryxar and the woman pressed onward. Each step took them deeper into the unknown, the desert's oppressive heat giving way to an eerie stillness that seemed to sap even the sounds of their movements. The shard embedded in Ryxar's palm glowed faintly, a crimson beacon in the growing twilight.

Behind him, the woman faltered, her breathing ragged as the unease gnawed at her resolve.

"This place feels… wrong," she murmured, her gaze darting to the dunes, which seemed to shift and writhe as though alive.

Ryxar didn't slow, his tone sharp and unyielding. "The shard we seek lies ahead. Stay focused, or stay behind."

Her jaw tightened at his dismissiveness, but she said nothing. The memory of his brutal efficiency in the ruins still lingered in her mind, and she knew he wouldn't hesitate to leave her if she faltered too long. Even if his arrogance infuriated her, his confidence was a strange anchor against the growing tide of fear.

The dunes opened into a barren expanse where the sand had turned black as if scorched by some ancient, unrelenting fire. At the heart of the desolation stood an obelisk, its towering form etched with glowing runes. Each symbol pulsed faintly, as though alive, their rhythm mirroring the shard in Ryxar's hand.

He approached with purpose, his eyes narrowing as the shard in his palm began to resonate more intensely. The woman hung back, unease prickling at the edge of her senses. The air here felt heavy, thick with something unseen yet tangible.

"These symbols…" she began, her voice trembling with a mix of curiosity and dread.

"Are nothing but relics of those too weak to claim their destiny," Ryxar interrupted, his words cutting through her thoughts. His outstretched hand hovered over the obelisk, the shard in his palm blazing brighter as it synchronized with the ancient runes.

The ground trembled, the vibrations building into a low, guttural sound that reverberated through the barren expanse. The woman's heart leapt into her throat as the sands began to shift violently. Shadows emerged from the ground, taking form as wraith-like figures, their bodies shrouded in flickering flames and swirling darkness. Their hollow eyes burned with malice as they encircled the obelisk, moving with a predatory grace.

"Wraiths," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the shifting sands. Her hands clenched into fists as fear gripped her. "They're guardians, aren't they?"

Ryxar's smirk was maddeningly calm, his crimson shard pulsing in response to the growing threat. "Guardians? No. They're tests."

One of the wraiths lunged, its skeletal claws slicing through the air with terrifying speed. Ryxar moved like water, his body a blur as he sidestepped the attack and countered with a surge of crimson energy. The blast struck the wraith, shattering its form into dissipating embers.

"They're not invincible," he remarked, his tone laced with disdain.

The woman barely had time to react as another wraith lunged at her, its flaming claws narrowly missing her arm. She scrambled behind a jagged rock, her breathing erratic. "Not invincible?!" she shouted, her voice tinged with anger and panic. "I don't have a shard to make me unstoppable!"

Ryxar didn't respond, his focus entirely on the battlefield. His movements were precise and deliberate, each step and strike calculated to exploit the wraiths' weaknesses. The crimson energy around him flared with every attack, his shard feeding off the destruction.

The woman pressed herself against the rock, her mind racing. She was no match for the wraiths in direct combat, but her eyes darted to the obelisk. The runes had grown brighter, their pulsing rhythm accelerating with the shard's resonance.

A reckless idea formed in her mind, born of desperation and a flicker of memory. She reached for a broken piece of stone nearby, its surface faintly etched with symbols similar to those on the obelisk. Her fingers trembled, but she focused, trying to recall the patterns they had seen in the ruins.

She etched a symbol into the sand, her movements clumsy but determined. As the mark took shape, a strange vibration hummed through the air. The wraiths hesitated, their forms flickering like disrupted flames.

Ryxar noticed the shift, his smirk deepening. "Interesting," he said, his tone almost approving. "Keep that up."

She didn't respond, her focus entirely on replicating another symbol. The wraiths convulsed, their movements growing erratic as if something disrupted their connection to the obelisk.

One of the wraiths broke free from the disruption, lunging at her with renewed ferocity. She barely dodged, her arm grazing the flames that licked at its claws. The pain was sharp, but it only fueled her determination.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she shouted at Ryxar, her voice a mix of anger and frustration.

"Always," he replied, his tone maddeningly calm. With a flick of his wrist, he sent another wraith crumbling into embers.

She etched another symbol into the sand, her movements more confident now. The wraiths froze, their forms trembling as the symbols disrupted their connection entirely.

Ryxar seized the moment, his shard blazing as he unleashed a torrent of energy that tore through the remaining wraiths. The battlefield fell silent, the oppressive energy dissipating as the wraiths dissolved into the air.

The woman slumped against the rock, her body trembling with exhaustion. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she glared at Ryxar. "You could've helped sooner."

"You were doing fine," he said, his tone dismissive as he turned his attention back to the obelisk. "And now, you've proven you're not entirely useless."

She bit back a retort, her frustration tempered by the realization that he wasn't entirely wrong.

The obelisk cracked, its surface splintering to reveal a shard identical to the one embedded in Ryxar's palm. He plucked it from its resting place, the energy surging through him with a ferocity that made the air around them vibrate.

The woman shielded her eyes as the light faded, leaving Ryxar standing taller, his presence even more imposing.

"This is just the beginning," he murmured, his voice filled with quiet determination. He turned to her, his gaze piercing. "The next trial will be worse. Prepare yourself."

As they moved away from the battlefield, neither noticed the shadowy figure watching from a distance. Its presence was a void, the kind that devoured light and hope alike.

"It begins," the figure whispered, its voice carrying a sinister edge. With a final glance at the obelisk, the figure vanished into the darkness, leaving the barren expanse silent once more.