Liora drifted in silent darkness, her body and spirit drained of all vitality by the tremendous power unleashed. Slowly, sensations began returning as though from great distance...the chill of crystalline flooring seeping into fevered skin...muted voices calling urgently, imploring her return...and delicate hands enveloped in healing aura tilting her head as precious elixir trickled down parched throat.
"She stirs thanks the stars!" exclaimed Elowen in overwhelming relief, hands trembling from prolonged exertion tending Liora's drained form. The few others still drawing weary breath in the Sanctuary ruins formed a solemn circle about their savior turned broken idol. None harbored fury over her abandonment of their defense in those final dire moments...for the roiling bastion left in wake testified to desperation of those actions.
Liora's cracked eyelids shuddered open slowly, room swaying dangerously about her. It required additional heartbeats simply separating reality from restless dreamscape. When finally her vision focused beyond opaque film, anxious companions loomed carrying fear and tentative joy in equal uneasy measure.
Something vital still eluded feeble grasp...why should such sadness yet haunt tensed features above? Memory crashed resurgence then in merciless flood - wails of the fallen piercing the heavy pall once again. So few warriors from the assembled legion yet clung to rapidly fading mortality.
Liora jolted upright with hoarse cry. "Faelan lies sorely wounded...tend him first I beg!" Frantic energy gripped her wavering limbs, phantom agony of all who had given life essence in her name hounding relentlessly. She struggled braced against Elowen's restraining wings even as room whirled treacherously.
It was Elara who intervened, ethereal form signaling the young seer stave her urgent ministrations. The ancient guardian enfolded Liora in gossamer embrace, spirit warmth calming the delirious knight as once in far more innocent days.
Liora grasped weakly to confirm her mentor's enduring presence first, before scanning the cramped surroundings for further familiar faces. A handful of Sanctuary priests hovered over twisted forms barely recognizable as her stalwart comrades...Faelan's once fiery aura dimmed so perilously that only longest sight perceived continued tether to his noble heart.
Despair threatened resurgent grip witnessing him linger at fate's fickle brink and dearest friends so mortally near unto crossing death's abyss. Then her eyes registered the slender form resting folded wings nearby...and anguished relief surged exultant.
Not all who mattered most had yet passed beyond veil's shroud! Elowen offered exhausted yet gleaming smile in response to unspoken longing. However harrowing their continued road, with her light they need not walk in utter darkness.
Solemn strains echoed from oddly warped camp perimeter as diminishGuardians tended their fallen outside timeless halls. Liora turned questioning gaze back to Elara even as she dreaded response.
"I am so sorry child...but only six Guardians yet cling to stolen life, while four times that number have crossed into eternal glory." Liora's strained mind reeled anew facing such decimation, these elite forces standing as last line against repeating menace. She could not even cry out in grief, so weary down to marrow.
Elowen rested gentle hand on her shoulder, eyes skimming surface emotions with care not to reopen shaky barriers. "We must rest now and gather what strength remains. Dawn soon comes and with it decisions no soul should ever require weighing."
Try as she might bolstered by Elaran potions, Liora gained little meaningful restoration huddled on unforgiving floor. Each fitful bout of nightmares jerked her roughly back from abyssal visions, the Nether's touch not easily cleansed. But she would make due with such fractured strength...too many yet depended flesh healing to indulge personal frailty.
When pallid light at last filtered down crystalline shafts to limn motes aloft, Liora joined the ragged war council, such as it remained. Seven figures slumped wearily amidst flotsam rubble, worlds away from mighty alliance seated here mere days prior. Though perhaps never had so very a fate rested with so few...
Elara motioned the Knight Vigil to stand first, her melodic voice carrying somber threads as never before. "You have all witnessed depravity unleashed by folly of our order's fringe sect. Corruption exceeds any capacity for redemption whether of individuals or artifacts. Thus I charge you remaining disciples with urgent reform."
She gestured next towards squat chest pulsing malevolence nearby, its contents causing skins to crawl. "Here rest extracted pages from dread Ashen Grimoire before contained by honored guardian now lost." None harbored accusation over her role there, though Liora's soul screamed endless self-flagellation.
"You shall bear these fragments unto hidden Anthem Anchor sustaining our sheltering enchantments. There must they be unbound from physical form and disseminated unto the cleansing eternities..."
A pregnant pause ensued before Elara concluded gravely. "By necessity never shall this location or knowledge enter recorded history. No enduring structure may ever be rebuilt atop this twice desecrated site, its very stones subject to vitrification once we depart into exile eternal."
The shattered men and women at her feet betrayed no hint undue emotion hearing such terminal sentencings. They were Guardians true unto death, now to be last of a once proud lineage. With heavy hearts unvoiced the assembly dispersed to enact their tragic mandate.
Soon naught endured amidst the ruin save three frail souls not party to binding oaths...and two anchors deliberately standing vigil until their terminal hour arrived. None could offer even meaningless comfort better than hollow platitudes in that oppressive hour...so little of substance left separating them from abyss.
So they waited in silence near the central apparatus which had shielded all existence as salvation been woven tragically from apocalypse's very jaws. Each dwelled on those recent events which would define utterly their shattered futures. If laughter or bonds of fellowship might ever grace this weary group again lay shrouded beyond capacity to anticipate.
They lingered thus without meaningful activity as the sun arced languorous overhead. Until finally Elara roused to enact the last ugly deed ere they took leave of this twice defiled sanctuary. Approaching the locking sphere reverently, she retrieved a single bound codex from its glowing depths.
Turning to gather her protégés desperate eyes with infinite compassion, Elara summoned the Journal of Ages into her hands to rest atop the apparatus. "Our extensive mission nears completion this day. This hallowed record alone shall endure bearing warning knowledge so narrowly won for civilizations unknowable ahead."
Gloved fingers caressed the encrypted surface as Elara summoned special quill and inscribed ten spidery sigils glowing azure bright. "Now at journey's end I bestow one final wisdom earned through eons thus my sacred charge. Thy true names hold power shaping fates and unlocking potential exceeding mortal bounds."
Ethereal gaze met each of her charges in turn as Elara spoke three resonant words. "Hanael the Redeemed. Teshuriel Light's Majesty. Israfel Heart of Storms." The named trio shuddered as fundamental forces realigned in response, elder runes burning bright about them. Their guide, mentor, and savior smiled wearily regarding each for the last time ere fading softly from existence given long overdue reprieve.
In her extended absence no further words passed between the three newly Ascended beings. In silent reverence they clasped hands, channeled starfire vast enough to engulf the cosmos...and methodically began reducing the Sanctuary to utter oblivion. None but they would ever stand vigil again atop this nameless frozen tor, nor sing lamentations for innocence lost when myriad lights burst finally into all-consuming flame...