The wounds went deep into body and spirit for Aiden, Lyra, and Caelum who had fought the Eclipsed Ones. The ritual that had sucked up all their energy bound the darkness in ways they couldn't understand. It was far from over. The Eclipsed Ones were sealed away, but influence lingered like a phantom in the background of Eldoria's healing process. As if their evil had been written into the soul of the earth.
Alone, Aiden climbed to the mountain summit, his aches reminding him of things. The world's gently closing wounds pressed against him; he knew how fragile the peace was that they fought for. The first of his kind, he felt himself to be the illumination; he was meant to lead them through this age, but something troubled him heart and soul. More was taken from him than what he had lost in battle—it unnerved the balance of things, light and darkness.
"Something's wrong," Aiden whispered to the wind. "Perhaps it will carry the thought across the farthest reaches of the land." He could still feel that pull of darkness, an echo from afar, calling him. The Guardian's Blade, once so bright, had dimmed ever so slightly. Not in power, but in purpose.
He was convinced that by locking the Eclipsed Ones away, the land would be protected from all the evil curses of their evil magic. Or so he thought until now, for, now, he didn't know if defeat was only the beginning of something far more calamitous.