The air shimmered in hues of violet and gold as twilight wrapped itself around the sleepy village of Lykora. Elaris crouched low, her nimble fingers brushing dew from a cluster of moonwort blooms. Their silvery petals seemed to glow under her touch, whispering secrets only the plants could hear.
"Come now, little ones," she murmured, tucking them into her satchel. "The stars will wake soon, and we don't want to disturb their dance."
The faint hum of the village's evening song carried on the wind. Chimneys puffed trails of smoke, and the scent of roasted berries mingled with the crisp mountain air. This was home—safe, serene, untouched by the chaos of the outside world.
Until tonight.
A low tremor rippled beneath her feet, so faint she might have thought it her imagination. But the moonwort shivered in her grasp, their glow dimming.
Elaris froze. She turned toward the horizon, where the sun bled its last light. In its place, a shadow crept—a darkness too heavy, too unnatural.
It began as a whisper, curling through her mind like a sliver of ice.
Elaris.
She dropped the satchel, her heart pounding. The voice was ancient, hollow, and unmistakably real.
"Who's there?" she called, spinning around. The forest loomed, its trees bending in unnatural shapes. She clutched the pendant around her neck—a simple charm her mother had left her, carved with a starburst.
The voice came again, louder this time, echoing through her bones.
You are the last. The light fades, child. You must rise.
The shadow on the horizon thickened, swallowing the stars. The pendant grew hot against her skin, and a blinding light erupted from its core.
Elaris screamed as the world tilted and a surge of power exploded within her. When she opened her eyes, the shadows had stopped their advance, but she was no longer alone.
Standing in the clearing was a man cloaked in obsidian armor, his eyes burning with an eerie silver flame.
"Elaris Lira," he said, his voice smooth yet laced with danger. "The time has come for you to claim your birthright… or forfeit your life."
Elaris stumbled back, her legs trembling as the pendant around her neck pulsed with warmth. She clutched it tightly, her voice unsteady.
"Who are you? What do you want from me?"
The man tilted his head, his silver-flamed eyes narrowing as though sizing her up. His armor glinted faintly in the twilight, and a faint aura of shadow rippled around him.
"I am Kael, Warden of the Shadow King," he said, his tone calm but commanding. "And you, Elaris, are the last Starlight Empress."
Elaris shook her head, her braid swaying as she backed further toward the safety of the trees. "You must have the wrong person," she said, her voice cracking. "I'm just a herbalist. I don't even know what a Starlight Empress is."
Kael's expression didn't soften. He raised a gloved hand, and the shadows around him coiled like living things. "The pendant you wear, girl—it's no mere trinket. It marks you as the heir to Aetheria's light. You carry the power to restore balance to the realms… or to destroy it."
Elaris glanced down at the starburst pendant, her breath hitching. The stories her mother used to tell her as a child—of ancient empresses who harnessed the power of the stars—flashed through her mind. But those were just bedtime tales. Weren't they?
"I don't know what you're talking about!" she snapped, panic bubbling in her chest. "I don't have any powers, and I don't want them!"
Kael's eyes burned brighter, and the shadows around him surged, creeping toward her like tendrils of ink. "You don't have a choice," he said. "The Shadow King has risen. The balance between light and dark has been shattered, and without you, Aetheria will fall."
The ground trembled again, harder this time. A crack split through the earth between them, and a faint, glowing mist began to seep from the fissure. Elaris gasped as images flashed in her mind—entire cities crumbling under waves of shadow, people fleeing as darkness devoured their homes, a distant voice crying out her name.
Kael stepped closer, his voice softening just slightly. "I am not your enemy, Elaris. But if you refuse your destiny, the Shadow King will find you. And he will not show mercy."
Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. She wanted to run, to disappear back into her quiet, simple life. But something deep inside her—a tiny, defiant spark—refused to cower.
"If I'm supposed to stop him," she said, her voice shaking but determined, "then how do I do it? I don't even know where to start."
Kael lowered his hand, the shadows retreating slightly. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—respect?—in his eyes.
"You begin by coming with me," he said. "I'll take you to the Celestial Spire. If there's any hope of awakening your full power, it lies there."
Elaris hesitated, every instinct screaming at her to refuse. But the images of destruction lingered in her mind, and the weight of the pendant against her chest felt heavier than ever.
Finally, she nodded, though fear still gripped her. "Fine. I'll come with you. But if this is some kind of trick…"
Kael smirked faintly, though his eyes remained guarded. "You'll have to trust me, Empress. The fate of the realms depends on it."
As the shadows swirled around them, Kael extended his hand. Elaris took one last glance at her quiet village, knowing she might never return. Then, with a deep breath, she stepped forward and grasped his hand.
The world dissolved into darkness, and her journey began.