The silver spire of Ilvaris cracked as Elira raised her staff, channeling raw arcana through its crystalline head. Lightning coiled around her arms, striking the great wyvern as it dived. Its obsidian scales deflected the first blast, but she thrust her hand forward, weaving air and fire. The resulting inferno engulfed its wings, sending it crashing into the sacred garden below.
Elira ran, her heart pounding. The Oracle’s Tear shimmered atop the altar, the key to breaking the sorcerer-king’s curse. As she reached for it, a shadow loomed. The wyvern, broken but not defeated, lunged.
Instead of retreating, she lifted the Tear. Magic surged through her veins, heightening her senses. She caught the beast’s charge, redirecting its force with pure energy. The impact shattered the garden’s stone walls.
Breathing hard, Elira stood, the Tear glowing in her grasp. The wyvern lay still, and the skies above Ilvaris began to clear. The land would heal—but the cost of wielding the Tear lingered in her trembling hands.
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