A chill wind stirred the remnants of twilight as the companions emerged from the sanctum of the Luminous Archive. With the Shard of Aetherion secured and its soft, pulsing glow a constant reminder of both hope and danger, Elara, Corvin, and Lysander stepped beyond the enchanted grove of Aetherion. The forest, which had sheltered them in recent days, now receded behind a curtain of shimmering mist, yielding to an expansive valley scarred by the ravages of time and warfare.
The valley stretched out before them like a battlefield of memory—a land once proud and fertile, now marred by deep fissures and towering crags that bore silent witness to forgotten conflicts. Overhead, a sky heavy with foreboding clouds promised an oncoming storm. The air vibrated with an ancient cadence, a rhythmic pulse that seemed to echo the beating of distant, slumbering hearts.
