The bridge of living stone undulated beneath Kaelen’s feet, rising over the roaring chasm as he sprinted. Behind him, the stormbeast shrieked, its jagged wings slicing the air. Thunder cracked as it spat a bolt of raw lightning—Kaelen threw up his hand, his rune-etched vambrace absorbing the strike. He staggered, his pulse thrumming with magic’s volatile energy.
Ahead, the Heartspire pulsed, a crystalline monolith that held his kingdom’s dying sun. Without it, the land would wither. He reached the summit’s altar, heart pounding. The Guardian stood in his path, obsidian eyes unblinking.
“Only one may leave,” it intoned.
The beast’s shadow loomed. No time to hesitate. Kaelen drove his blade into the altar, pouring the charged energy into the stone. A blinding radiance erupted, launching the stormbeast into the abyss.
As the land rekindled, Kaelen collapsed, his vambrace crumbling. He had saved the realm—but the cost was the magic that had always defined him.
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