The First Scar

ECHO BREAKER

Chapter 2: The First Scar

The air was heavy with dust and cold, and silence. Asher lay on the ground, his body battered, his breathing labored. Blood was dried on his wounds, crusted over them, and on his tattered clothes. His fingers twitched against the dry ground, but his body would not move. His limbs were stone, heavy with exhaustion, pain, and something else—nothingness.

Three days.

Three days have now passed since Liora was taken.

Her screams still rang in his mind, haunting him over and over like a malignant curse he was unable to shake.

> "Asher!"

"Help me!"

He had been too weak to save her. Too pathetic to fight back.

Varis had beaten him into the ground like he was nothing. His soldiers had laughed as Asher sprawled on the ground, pleading, gagging, choking on his own blood.

And now, he was here. Alone. Forgotten.

His fingers curled into the earth. Every inch of him was screaming at him to stop. To let the pain engulf him. To let the cold take him.

But something within him rebelled.

A tiny ember. A whisper.

> Stand up.

He gritted his teeth and struggled to push himself up, but he lost the energy in doing so. He rolled back on the ground and coughed spasmodically.

Was this it?

Would his tale stop here?

Would Liora perish in some dingy alley of the world while he decayed in this faceless ruin?

No.

His breathing was deep and slow, controlled.

He would not die here. He couldn't die here.

Asher drove his hands into the ground again. His arms trembled, but he didn't topple over this time. He strained himself onto his knees. His entire body rebelled, his eyes went hazy, but he didn't care.

Then—he pushed himself further.

One foot planted.

Then the other.

He swayed, almost fell again, but he clenched his teeth and stabilized his knees.

And finally—he stood.

The wind howled about him, as though the world itself had taken notice.

Something shifted.

It was subtle, barely perceptible, but Asher sensed it. A power deep within him, hidden under decades of pain and defeat. Something enormous. Something primal.

His breathing slowed.

His fingers clenched.

And he picked it up for the first time in his life.

> crack—

The earth under his feet broke apart.

A low growl rose up in his chest, raw and primitive.

His shadow did not merely extend—it ascended, expanding, changing, aflame.

The sky twisted, the wind roared, the very air around him seemed to bend.

Lightning did not flash—it exploded, lighting the ruins about him in time with his pounding heart.

And then, in a voice deeper than his own, with something otherworldly in it—he spoke.

> "Weakness took everything from me.".

"I'll tear it out of my soul."

I don't mind how expensive it is.

"I will NEVER be weak again."

The world became silent.

And somewhere, far beyond the stars, far beyond human understanding, something moved.

---

Far away, in Varis' fortress.

Varis walked the grand halls of his hold, his booming boots echoing off marble. His guards trailed behind him, chuckling, discussing nothing.

Then—

He halted.

His men noticed.

> "Sir?"

Varis let it out, waving it away. But for an instant. he had sensed it.

A shift. A ripple in the air, subtle but certain.

It was absurd.

It was impossible.

And yet, his instincts, the ones that had never failed him, whispered something he couldn't help but hear.

He shook his head and muttered under his breath.

> "Tch. Worthless."

He kept walking.

But deep within his subconcious, behind his arrogance, there was a thought.

> …What was that?

---

Somewhere in the unknown.

Someone sat in the darkness, their eyes closed. There was tension in the air around them, a heaviness of quiet.

And then, suddenly, their eyes opened.

Golden. Cold. Unfathomable.

There was a whisper in the emptiness.

> He has awakened.

The figure exhaled, the edges of their mouth tilting upward into a slow, knowing smile.

> "How interesting."

---.

Back to Asher…

His body continued to ache, but no longer did it hurt like prison. The tiredness was present, but no longer did it weigh him down.

He felt like he was floating, like something inside him had shattered and reassembled.

He curled his fingers. The strength was gone, but a portion of him deep inside recognized that it hadn't disappeared.

It was there waiting.

And he would master it.

But there was no time to reflect on it now.

He gazed out towards the distant mountains, where the outlines of a city floated suspended in the mist.

Varis was waiting for him.

Liora was ill.

And Asher was headed their way.

He took his first step. The trip of hell had begun. ---