The Test of Restraint

Fragment’s form was now partially restored as more than a specter. It was a tattered cloak of debris it had gathered in its travels from the sanctuary. It resembled something like a twisted glowing reaper from the humans’ mythology, hovering above the chaos along a trade route. Traders defended their caravan, makeshift weapons clashing against scavengers’ crude blades.

Fragment pulsed, its light wavering. Memories of Harlen’s fate resurfaced, reminding it of the cost of interference. Yet the violence below demanded action.

It descended, its presence halting the fight. Scavengers turned their weapons on Fragment, but their attacks dissipated harmlessly against its shifting form.

“Conflict fractures the whole,” Fragment said, its voice calm but resonant. “There is no balance in this destruction.”

The scavengers retreated, unwilling to challenge the Creche any further. The traders, shaken, offered thanks, but Fragment did not respond. It drifted back into the shadows, its light dimming with the weight of its choices.