The sun had already set by the time Lyara and Elyndra reached the heart of the Sylvan Elf territory. Towering trees, their leaves shimmering in the moonlight, stretched up toward the sky, creating a canopy that felt both protective and ancient. The elven settlement was nestled deep within the forest, with graceful wooden structures blending seamlessly into the natural landscape. Bridges of woven vines connected the treetop dwellings, and the faint glow of magical runes lit the paths between them.
The elves were quiet as Lyara and Elyndra passed, but there was an unspoken tension in the air. The fall of Eldoria had reached even these secluded lands, and while the Sylvan Elves were renowned for their neutrality in the affairs of men, it was clear they understood the significance of what had happened.
Lyara led the way toward the council chamber, where the elders had gathered to discuss the situation. Elyndra followed closely behind, her eyes scanning their surroundings, always alert for any potential threat. Though they were among their own people, years of war had taught her never to let her guard down.
As they approached the grand hall, the sound of soft voices drifted toward them. The doors, carved with intricate patterns of leaves and vines, swung open at their arrival, revealing a large chamber illuminated by pale moonlight. At the center of the room, seated around a circular stone table, were the elven elders—five of them in total, each dressed in flowing robes that shimmered with faint magical energy.
The eldest among them, **Elder Faeron**, rose to greet them. His silver hair fell in soft waves around his shoulders, and his piercing blue eyes carried the weight of centuries of wisdom. "Lyara, Elyndra," he said, his voice calm yet filled with concern. "We have been waiting for your return."
Lyara bowed respectfully, Elyndra following her lead. "Elder Faeron," Lyara began, her tone formal. "The situation in Eldoria is dire. Valerius Kane has taken the capital, and the Valion heir, Akin, is missing."
A murmur ran through the gathered elves, their expressions darkening at the news.
Faeron's gaze flickered with understanding. "We had heard rumors of the Valion fall, but to know that Akin is gone… it is a grave loss, indeed."
Lyara's jaw tightened. "I do not believe Akin is dead. Not yet. There's still hope."
The elder regarded her closely, his eyes narrowing slightly as if searching for something in her face. "Hope is a precious thing, but it can also be dangerous. If Akin Valion is gone, the kingdom of Elaris will fall entirely into Valerius's hands. He is not a man who will stop at conquering the capital. His ambitions are far greater."
Lyara nodded, her fists clenching at her sides. "I know. That's why we must act."
Faeron exchanged glances with the other elders, their silent communication passing between them as if they were speaking without words. After a long pause, Faeron sighed softly. "You are right, Lyara. We cannot stand idly by. The Sylvan Elves have remained neutral for too long. If Valerius seeks to dominate all of Elaris, we will be his next target."
Elyndra, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "We need to prepare. Valerius's forces are growing stronger by the day. If we do not act now, we may not have another chance."
Faeron nodded slowly, his expression grave. "Very well. We will begin gathering our forces. But this will not be easy. Valerius's reach is vast, and his command of dark magic is unlike anything we have seen before."
Lyara's heart sank slightly at the mention of Valerius's power. She had seen firsthand what he was capable of—the way he had defeated Akin, the way he had torn through the defenses of Eldoria with frightening ease. But she couldn't allow herself to dwell on that now. There was too much at stake.
"We'll find a way," Lyara said quietly, her voice filled with determination. "We have to."
Faeron placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle. "Take heart, Lyara. The Sylvan Elves will stand with you. But we must be careful. Valerius's eyes are everywhere."
---
Meanwhile, deep within the cave where Akin trained under the watchful eye of Alarion, the young Valion heir was nearing the end of his first round of lessons. The days had blurred together in a whirlwind of swordplay and magic, and each night he collapsed from exhaustion, only to wake the next morning and begin again.
But despite the relentless pace, Akin felt stronger—both in body and mind. Alarion's cheeky, playful demeanor often made him question the seriousness of the training, but the results were undeniable. The connection Akin had to the elements was growing, his ability to manipulate fire, water, and air becoming more refined with each passing day. And still, he had barely scratched the surface of what he was capable of.
Today, however, Alarion seemed uncharacteristically quiet. He stood at the far end of the chamber, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, watching Akin with an intensity that made the young heir uneasy.
"What's on your mind?" Akin asked, wiping sweat from his brow after another round of sword drills.
Alarion grinned, though the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, nothing much. Just marveling at the fact that you're still alive after everything I've put you through."
Akin chuckled, though it was strained. "Yeah, well, I'm starting to think you enjoy torturing me."
"Torture?" Alarion feigned shock. "This isn't torture! This is the best education you'll ever get. You're welcome."
Akin shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. But then, his expression sobered as he studied Alarion more closely. There was something different about him today. The usual spark of mischief in his eyes seemed dimmed, replaced by something more… resigned.
"What's really going on?" Akin pressed, his voice soft.
Alarion sighed, pushing himself off the wall and walking toward Akin. "You're sharper than I give you credit for, kid. I guess there's no point in hiding it any longer."
Akin frowned, confusion swirling in his mind. "What are you talking about?"
The Sage stopped in front of him, his smile fading. "I'm running out of time."
"Time?" Akin repeated, his heart skipping a beat. "What do you mean?"
Alarion shrugged, but there was a sadness in his eyes that made Akin's chest tighten. "I told you before, I'm just a spirit—a remnant of what I once was. I've been here for centuries, waiting for someone like you to come along. But even spirits have their limits, and mine is about to reach its end."
Akin stared at him, his throat tightening with a mix of disbelief and dread. "But… you're the only one who's been helping me. If you're gone, then—"
Alarion cut him off with a raised hand. "Relax. I'm not leaving you empty-handed."
With a wave of his hand, the stone altar at the center of the cave began to glow, and from within it, a sword emerged—glorious and ancient. The blade was long and sleek, its surface etched with glowing runes, and the hilt was adorned with intricate patterns of silver and gold. The pommel gleamed with a bright, emerald jewel that pulsed faintly with energy.
Akin's breath caught in his throat as he gazed at the sword. "What… what is that?"
"This," Alarion said, his voice filled with reverence, "is the Eternal Blade. It's been passed down through the ages, and now, it's yours."
Akin reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing the hilt. The moment his hand made contact, a surge of energy shot through him, filling him with a power he had never felt before.
"There's a catch, though," Alarion continued, his tone growing serious. "The blade is sealed with five locks, and only you can unlock them. As you grow stronger—master the elements, learn to control your magic—you'll break the seals, one by one. But until then, the sword will remain… dormant."
Akin stared at the blade, feeling its weight both physically and metaphorically. "Why me?"
Alarion smiled softly. "Because you're the first of your kind—a genius who can control all the elements. You're something that shouldn't even be possible, but here you are. And that means you have the potential to do things no one else can."
Akin swallowed hard, the responsibility of what lay before him sinking in. "What happens now?"
Alarion's smile faltered, and he took a step back. "Now, I leave you with this—my last gift. The formation I'm about to activate will keep you here for five years, training you in magic and swordsmanship. You'll come out of it stronger, ready to face the world. But it won't be easy."
Akin's heart pounded. "Wait, you're leaving? Just like that?"
Alarion's eyes softened. "I've taught you what I can, kid. The rest is up to you. You're going to be fine. And besides…" He winked. "You've got a fancy sword to keep you
company."
Before Akin could protest, the air around them began to shimmer, and the formation activated, surrounding him in a glowing barrier of light. Alarion's form started to fade, his playful grin the last thing Akin saw before he disappeared completely.
"Good luck, Akin Valion," the Sage's voice echoed softly. "Make me proud."