The silver roots pulsed beneath Seris’s fingertips as she knelt before the Heart of Eldanwyn. Moonlight shimmered through the crystalline canopy, casting violet shadows across the sacred grove.
She pressed her palm to the ancient bark. The ground trembled. A deep, resonant hum filled the air as golden glyphs spiraled up the trunk. The ward was breaking.
Behind her, the sky roiled black with the Shadow Tyrant’s encroaching storm. If she failed, his corruption would seep into the world’s core.
Seris reached into her satchel, pulling forth the last emberstone. Without hesitation, she crushed it in her hands. Fiery veins of magic seared up her arms, binding her essence to the tree. Power surged from her very soul, reinforcing the Heart’s barrier.
The storm howled, then splintered apart. The darkness receded. Seris collapsed, breath ragged, her mortal shell dimming—but the world was safe. A single silver leaf unfurled beside her, glowing softly in gratitude.
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