The twin moons bathed the crystal river in cold light as Elara pressed her palm against the stone monolith. The runes flared to life, golden arcs of magic crackling through the air. Behind her, the roars of the shadowbeasts grew louder.
She gritted her teeth. The gate had to open—she was the last of the Starborn, and only she could waken the Guardian. Another beast lunged from the trees, its fangs inches from her throat before she thrust her staff outward. Starlight erupted, searing the darkness away.
The monolith shuddered. A deep tremor ran through the valley as the ancient Guardian rose from beneath the ground, its colossal, stone-hewn form glowing with celestial fire. With a wordless bellow, it sent a shockwave through the battlefield, scattering the shadows like dust.
Elara staggered. She had won. But as the Guardian turned its burning gaze upon her, she realized—this was no protector. It was a god, and it was waking.
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