The storm above Elarion had not ceased for seven days.
The once–gentle skies now screamed with lightning, painting the horizon in shades of violet and red. Rivers boiled, forests turned to ash, and the whispers of the dying wind carried only one name —
Aiden.
He stood upon the cliffs of Vareth's Edge, staring down into the abyss where once the Temple of Whispers had stood. It was gone now — swallowed by the earth itself — along with every secret it once held.
Behind him, Lyra slept restlessly, her skin pale and veined with black. The corruption was spreading. The curse that Kaelith's shadow left behind in the temple was not just poison — it was sentient, whispering to her mind, calling her to the dark.
Aiden clenched his fists, the faint red glow of the Crimson Shard flickering beneath his skin. He had tried everything — healing runes, spirit water, even his own blood infused with magic — but nothing slowed the spread.
He was running out of time.
The Hidden Message
That night, as Lyra shivered in her sleep, Aiden searched through the remnants of the Lost Chronicle of Elarion. There were fragments he hadn't yet understood — words written in starblood ink, invisible to ordinary eyes.
He channeled his energy, letting the shard's pulse guide him. The hidden runes lit up one by one, forming a single chilling line:
"When the Light bearer falls, the Starborn must walk the path of shadow — or the world shall drown in silence."
Aiden's breath caught. "Light bearer… Lyra."
He looked toward her, realization sinking in. The curse wasn't meant to kill her — it was meant to change her.
If he didn't act soon, Lyra would become the vessel for Kaelith's will.
The Dream of the Ancients
When Aiden finally closed his eyes, exhaustion dragged him into a dream unlike any before.
He stood in a barren wasteland under a broken moon. The air was heavy with the smell of burning stars.
A voice — ancient and sorrowful — echoed all around him.
"You seek to save her, but the cost will be your soul."
From the fog emerged a figure robed in gold and shadow — Elyndra, the first Starborn and creator of the shard itself. Her eyes burned like twin suns.
Aiden bowed his head instinctively. "Tell me how to save her."
"You cannot save what has already been chosen," she replied.
"The curse that binds her is a seal — it feeds on the bond between your hearts."
Aiden's chest tightened. "Then I'll break the bond if I must."
Elyndra's gaze softened.
"Break it… and she dies. Keep it… and she becomes your enemy."
A cruel silence filled the dreamscape.
"You, Starborn, were never meant to love. You were meant to burn — to unmake and rebuild."
Her hand lifted, touching his forehead, and suddenly visions flooded his mind — cities burning, skies bleeding, Lyra standing on a throne of ash with Kaelith's sigil carved into her palm.
Aiden gasped and fell to his knees. "No… I won't let that happen."
"Then prepare," Elyndra whispered. "Because destiny never asks — it takes."
The dream shattered.
The Night of Betrayal
Aiden woke to silence — too much silence.
Lyra was gone.
Only a faint trail of black dust marked her steps through the snow. Panic gripped his chest as he followed the trail into the Caverns of Myrren, a place where the living rarely entered and never returned unchanged.
Whispers echoed along the stone walls. The deeper he went, the colder it grew — not the chill of ice, but of death.
And then he saw her.
Lyra stood before a pool of dark energy, her reflection twisted, her eyes glowing crimson. Her veins pulsed with Kaelith's corruption, spreading faster than ever.
"Lyra!" Aiden shouted, his voice breaking. "Stop — you're not yourself!"
She turned slowly, her expression blank. "I can hear him, Aiden. Kaelith… he's calling me. He says he can take the pain away."
Aiden stepped closer. "He's lying. You're stronger than him."
She smiled weakly. "Am I? Because every time I breathe, it feels like he's already inside me."
The air shimmered, and a dark projection formed behind her — Kaelith's spirit, tall and cold, his voice dripping with mockery.
"You see, boy? Love makes even the purest soul weak."
Aiden drew his blade, its edge humming with celestial energy. "Get out of her, Kaelith!"
Kaelith chuckled. "Oh, I will. But first, I'll take what's mine — the shard… and her."
The Battle of the Cavern
Magic exploded. The cavern shook violently as Aiden unleashed the Starborn's light — beams of golden energy clashing with Kaelith's black mist.
Lyra screamed, torn between the two forces. Her body convulsed as red lightning streaked across her skin.
"Aiden… run!" she cried. "Before I—"
Her voice broke, replaced by Kaelith's cruel laughter.
"She is the Light bearer no more. She is my vessel."
Aiden fell to his knees, anguish consuming him. "No…"
Then, something deep within him snapped.
The shard blazed like a sun. The cavern walls split apart as ancient symbols ignited. His voice roared with the power of the ancients:
"By the blood of the Starborn, I reclaim the light!"
A surge of golden fire erupted, striking Lyra — burning away Kaelith's shadow for a fleeting instant. She screamed, clutching her heart, tears of blood streaming down her cheeks.
Her eyes met his — for one last, fleeting moment of clarity.
"Aiden… promise me…" she whispered. "Don't let me become… him."
Before he could reach her, the ground gave way — and Lyra vanished into the abyss, swallowed by the dark.
The Silence After the Storm
When Aiden emerged from the caverns, dawn was breaking, but the light felt hollow. The storm had cleared, yet the world felt heavier — like the earth itself was mourning.
He dropped to his knees, clutching a fragment of Lyra's pendant — the only thing that remained.
His heart felt like stone. The Crimson Shard was silent now, dim and cold.
But somewhere in the distance, the sky flickered — a red aurora forming Kaelith's sigil across the heavens.
Aiden looked up, his expression hardening.
"She's not gone," he whispered. "You think you've won, Kaelith — but this isn't over."
He rose, his eyes now glowing faintly with both gold and red — a merging of light and corruption.
The power inside him was changing — no longer pure, no longer restrained.
He had become something new. Something both divine and damned.
And as the wind howled through the ruins, the whispers of the ancients returned —
"The Starborn walks the path of shadow now…"