My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy-Chapter 219: Family Man

Elias didn’t know what he’d expected—dust, maybe. Or steel cities ringed in smoke. But what came into view made his glow flicker.

It was... soft.

Not weak. Not fragile. But layered, textured—alive. Deep blues swirled beneath thin bands of pearl-white cloud, the sea veined with subtle glimmers that stretched toward curved coastlines. Mountains broke through the cloud layers like dark brushstrokes across a canvas. Light spilled across them in gold-pink hues, as if the sunrise here wasn’t in a rush. freewebnσvel.cѳm

A vast inland river wound through what had to be a continent, its shape jagged and imperfect, a thousand tributaries braiding into a gleaming web that spilled into the ocean. At its center, nestled against a wide, crescent-shaped bay, a city shimmered. Not glowing. Not flashing. Just—shimmering. Like metal catching light underwater.

He drifted lower.

And it kept unfolding.

Terraced farmlands stretched out like green staircases carved into the cliffs, dotted with small, red-roofed buildings. Wind towers spun lazily over rolling hills. Massive sky bridges connected floating landmasses—some shaped like petals, others spiraling like nautilus shells. A crystal lake shimmered at the edge of a high plateau, its surface so still he thought it was glass until the wind rippled across it.

Was this really a planet under siege?

He didn’t see trenches. Didn’t hear screaming. But then again, he wasn’t down there yet.

The capital was close now. He could make out golden spires rising in uneven intervals, their tips crowned with rings that rotated in slow patterns. Roads arched between the towers, but not like streets—more like threads, light-suspended and humming with soft blue energy. A central building loomed near the city’s core—low, wide, and ancient. Its walls were overgrown with vines that shimmered faintly as if absorbing spirit energy from the air itself.

And just beyond the city’s edge, the outskirts came into view—clusters of towns nestled into valleys, stone buildings stacked together beneath colorful canopies. He caught glimpses of people. Or... beings. They were too small to make out clearly, but they moved slowly, like they weren’t afraid of being watched.

A quiet thought rose up in him.

This doesn’t look broken.

His glow pulsed once—slow, uncertain. The godless crucifix hadn’t lied... but he hadn’t told him this either. Whatever war Giselsin had faced, whatever conquest the aliens had inflicted—it wasn’t here now. Or if it was, it hadn’t touched everything.

Which meant there was more at stake.

Not just the gem.

Not just the mission.

Whoever he became—whoever raised him—would be part of a world still holding onto its soul.

Far off, a man shoveled dirt outside a massive column, the blade of his tool scraping against the hard-packed earth with a rhythmic crunch, each thrust sending a faint puff of dust into the cooling evening air.

The column loomed above him, a towering structure of weathered basalt, its surface etched with carvings of warriors and beasts locked in eternal combat—some figures brutal and wild, others divine and inhuman, their features dulled by time, their battles eroded into stories only the stones still whispered.

At its peak stood a statue of a man, not in triumph, but frozen mid-charge—cloak billowing, sword raised toward the heavens, its blade catching the last spill of light from the sun as it dipped behind the distant hills. The dying rays skimmed the edge just enough to send a faint golden streak across the clearing.

Below it, the base bore a single line.

Things haven’t been the same since you died, Rudy...

Tarn Veldrik paused, leaning on his shovel.

A calloused hand slid down the shaft of the tool and settled over his forearm, where an orange gem glistened beneath a layer of sweat and grime. It pulsed once—faint, warm—its hum steady, like the sound of breath taken and held. He thumbed across its surface, the pulse syncing, for a moment, with his own heartbeat.

"Time moves on, and time heals all, I suppose," he muttered.

His voice rasped from his throat like it wasn’t used often. Probably wasn’t. Not out here, this far from the central districts. Not when the dead didn’t answer.

He wiped his brow with his sleeve. Dirt smudged into the creases beside his eye. His beard, once thick and black, now hung in streaks of gray and rust, catching the same golden hue the blade above had.

The gem dimmed again.

Tarn stared at it for a long moment.

It hadn’t always been orange. Or warm. Or quiet.

He shifted his gaze to the row of columns farther down the clearing—each one marked with different names, some long buried, some recently etched. The soil near those had already begun to settle. New offerings sat at their base—trinkets, cracked figurines, small folded notes written in trembling hands. Someone still remembered them.

But this one?

No one but him had stood by it in over ten years.

Rudy...

Tarn looked up, squinting against the sky. The statue’s silhouette had vanished into the blue-gold horizon. Only the sword still caught the light.

"You left me with a mess," he said, quietly.

Then, after a beat—

"Guess it’s good someone’s still listening.""It’s best I get back and report no monster sightings at this time," he muttered, the words slipping through the corner of his mouth with a gravelled rasp, half to himself and half to the wind. His voice blended with the creak of the bonewood trees that circled the Hollow—old, pale-limbed things with bark like flaking ivory, their twisted arms rising toward the dusk like brittle prayers. The breeze moved between them like a whisper through a tomb.

Behind him, the last light of day sank behind the hills, and with it, the warmth. A deeper chill began to settle over the ground, curling along the grass and clinging to the base of the weathered stone columns. The gem in his forearm pulsed once, a slow thrum like something breathing just beneath the skin.

"The Banquet celebration’s starting soon..." he added, quieter this time.

A faint smile touched his beard.

"...means I’ll get some good mead for once."

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