The moonlight shimmered on the crystal trees of Eldros Vale as Lirien sprinted through the silver grass. The Orb of Aelthar pulsed in her hands, its warmth thrumming with the rhythm of her racing heart. Behind her, the Shadowborn closed in, their presence twisting the air cold.
Reaching the altar of Everlight, Lirien placed the Orb atop its pedestal. The runes blazed gold, magic surging as the valley trembled. The Shadowborn lunged, tendrils of darkness grasping—but too late. Light erupted from the altar, cutting through the abyssal night. The creatures withered, screeching, their forms dissolving like ash on the wind.
As dawn broke over Eldros Vale, Lirien stood breathless but victorious. The darkness was gone, but the Orb—a relic of her ancestors—had shattered. She clenched the fragments, knowing the battle was won, yet part of history was lost forever. With a final glance at the ruined altar, she turned toward the waiting world, her next journey already calling.
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