The Battle Against the Harbinger

A Fractured Reality

Kalen lunged forward. Or at least, he thought he did.

One moment, he was rushing at the Harbinger.

The next—

He was standing exactly where he had started.

What?

The battlefield warped. Shadows twisted unnaturally, bleeding into the stone. The air itself seemed to pulse, and Kalen's own movements were betraying him.

He turned his head—only to see himself standing several feet away.

"What...?"

Renna was gone. Varik was gone. Darian was locked in a fierce clash with the Harbinger, but their forms flickered, like reflections in shattered glass.

Time wasn't moving correctly.

Reality was breaking.

"Do you understand now?"

Kalen turned—only to find the Harbinger standing beside him.

Impossible.

He was still fighting Darian.

And yet—he was here, too.

"Your kind fights wars with steel and fire." The Harbinger's voice was a whisper, yet it echoed everywhere. "But you don't even realize... the battlefield is already lost."

The fortress melted. The walls crumbled into an abyss of endless black, yet Kalen's feet remained on solid ground.

Or at least, he thought they did.

His hands looked wrong.

They flickered.

Shadows crawled up his skin, shifting like ink dissolving in water.

What is this? What's happening to me?

He reached out—and his fingers sank through his own arm.

I'm not real.

The thought slammed into his chest.

No. That's not right. I'm here. I'm still here.

Aren't I?

The Harbinger's Game

"This is how we fight, Shadowborn."

The Harbinger's voice was everywhere.

"Not with swords. Not with magic."

The ground beneath Kalen rippled. The darkness was alive, shifting, watching.

"We fight within you."

Kalen staggered. His thoughts weren't his own anymore. They were tangled, twisted—his memories bleeding into the moment, folding over themselves.

He saw himself as a child, standing in the burnt remnants of his home.

He saw himself fighting in the war, blade flashing, blood soaking his hands.

He saw himself standing over Renna's dead body—

Wait. That never happened.

Did it?

Kalen gasped.

The battlefield blinked out of existence.

Now he was standing in a quiet village.

His village.

Before it burned.

People moved around him, their faces blurred, unrecognizable. Yet he knew them.

A woman passed by, humming softly.

His mother.

But she was dead.

"Kalen."

He turned—and saw Renna.

Standing right in front of him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Her voice was calm, familiar. As if none of this was strange. As if she wasn't supposed to be on the battlefield.

Kalen opened his mouth—but the words stuck in his throat.

Was this real?

It felt real.

More real than the fortress.

More real than the battle.

Maybe… maybe he was wrong about everything. Maybe he had imagined the fight. Maybe he had imagined the Harbinger.

Maybe he had imagined the war itself.

Renna smiled.

"Come home, Kalen."

The Choice That Wasn't

No. This isn't real.

The thought cut through the illusion like a blade.

And just like that—

The village collapsed.

It burned in an instant, consumed by the very same shadows that had taken it years ago.

Renna's face melted away into darkness.

Kalen was back.

Back in the fortress.

Back in the battle.

His body was shaking.

The Harbinger stood in front of him, watching.

Amused.

"Fascinating."

Kalen's breath was ragged.

"You're playing with my mind."

"I'm showing you the truth."

"That was a lie."

The Harbinger tilted his head.

"And yet… you wanted to believe it, didn't you?"

Kalen said nothing.

Because he was right.

For a moment—he had almost let go.

He had almost believed.

And that terrified him.

Because if the Harbinger could make him doubt his own past—

What else could he do?

Breaking the Cycle

The battle around them raged on.

Darian was still fighting—his attacks vicious, precise—but the Harbinger wasn't even trying.

He was simply dodging.

Letting Darian exhaust himself.

Letting Kalen break.

"This isn't a fight you can win."

Kalen's hands clenched into fists.

His body still trembled, his mind still spun, but there was one thing he knew for certain.

The Harbinger wanted him to break.

To give in.

To accept his fate as Shadowborn.

No. Not like this.

If the battle was being fought inside him—then he had to fight back.

Not with his sword.

Not with magic.

With his mind.

You are Kalen.

You are real.

You are not Forsaken.

The shadows around him shuddered.

The Harbinger's expression shifted, just slightly.

"Ah."

"You finally understand."

The battlefield cracked.

Not physically—but within him.

The illusions, the shifting reality—the Harbinger's power—it was breaking.

Kalen was breaking free.

And he wasn't afraid anymore.

"You don't control me."

The shadows exploded.

End of Chapter 17