Inside the temple, the atmosphere shifted, filled with a palpable energy. The walls were adorned with frescoes telling stories of Elara's lineage—powerful women who had wielded magic to protect their kingdom.
Elara felt a deep connection to the images. "These are my ancestors," she whispered, tracing the carvings with her fingers. "They were guardians."
At the center of the temple stood an altar, and upon it lay a glowing amulet, pulsating with light. "This must be a part of the legacy," Isolde said, her voice awed.
Elara stepped forward, her heart racing. "It's calling to me."
As she reached for the amulet, the whispers grew louder, forming a chorus of voices. "Embrace your legacy, Elara. The power within you is strong. You must harness it."
With trembling hands, Elara grasped the amulet, and a surge of energy coursed through her. Visions flooded her mind—battles fought, sacrifices made, and the unwavering strength of her lineage.
Garrick stood beside her, his presence grounding. "You are not alone in this, Elara. We're with you."
Elara turned to him, her eyes shining with newfound determination. "Together, we will honor my ancestors and protect our kingdom."
As she stepped back, the temple began to shimmer, revealing hidden passages filled with ancient scrolls and artifacts that spoke of forgotten powers. The legacy was not just hers; it belonged to all of them.