Part 1: The Aftermath of Shadows
The world lay in silence.
The echoes of Sylvaen's battle against the Hollow Chorus still lingered in the air, like the remnants of a storm refusing to fade. The Skyshard floated before her, pulsating with a steady but faint light, its once brilliant glow now dimmed. The battle had weakened it. Weakened her.
She collapsed onto her knees, struggling to catch her breath. The immense power she had unleashed had drained her strength, leaving her limbs feeling like stone. The wind around her had settled, the ground no longer shuddering beneath her feet, but a heavy unease pressed against her chest.
Something didn't feel right.
The Hollow Chorus had been pushed back, but they were not defeated. They never truly disappeared. They were an endless tide, an entity beyond flesh and bone. And their leader—the dark figure that had stood before her—was still out there. Watching. Waiting.
Sylvaen's fingers curled into the dirt beneath her. She had won this battle, but for how long? How many more times would she have to fight before the Chorus finally stopped hunting her? Or worse—before they won?
A rustling sound caught her attention.
She tensed, her senses snapping back into focus. The battlefield was empty except for the fragments of the land still floating in the void. Yet, the feeling of being watched had not faded. Someone—or something—was still here.
Slowly, Sylvaen turned her head.
A figure stood at the edge of the fractured ground, partially concealed in the swirling mist. Unlike the Hollow Chorus, it did not move like a shadow or whisper through the wind. This presence was different—solid, real.
Sylvaen's grip tightened around the Skyshard's energy, her breath steadying.
"Who's there?" she called, her voice carrying across the silent landscape.
For a long moment, there was no answer. Then, the figure stepped forward.
A man emerged from the mist.
His armor was unlike anything Sylvaen had seen before—dark steel lined with veins of shimmering blue energy, as if the very essence of the sky had been forged into its design. His eyes, sharp and knowing, reflected the faint glow of the Skyshard. A sword rested at his hip, but he did not reach for it. Instead, he simply watched her, his expression unreadable.
Sylvaen's body tensed. Was he another enemy? Or something else entirely?
"You fight well," the man finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with curiosity. "But you are reckless. You nearly shattered the Skyshard entirely."
Sylvaen frowned. "Who are you?"
The man exhaled slowly, tilting his head as if weighing his words carefully. "My name is Kaelen. And I have been looking for you."
Sylvaen's heartbeat quickened. Looking for her? But why?
Kaelen took another step forward, his gaze never leaving hers. "The Hollow Chorus is not your only enemy, Sylvaen. There are others who seek the Skyshard's power. And if you do not learn to control it, they will take it from you."
A shiver ran through her. "And who are you to warn me?"
Kaelen's expression darkened. "Someone who has seen what happens when people misuse that power."
The wind shifted between them, heavy with unspoken truths. Sylvaen had spent so long running, fighting, surviving—but something about Kaelen's words made her realize the truth. She wasn't ready. The Skyshard had chosen her, but she had no idea how to wield it properly. She had been stumbling through a war far greater than she understood, and for the first time, she felt the weight of that reality pressing down on her.
Kaelen seemed to sense her hesitation. He extended a hand toward her. "Come with me. There are things you need to know."
Sylvaen hesitated. Could she trust him? Could she trust anyone?
The Skyshard pulsed in her hands, sending a faint warmth through her body. A whisper. A feeling.
It did not resist him.
Sylvaen exhaled. Slowly, cautiously, she reached for his hand.
And the moment their fingers touched, the world around her shifted.
A blinding light engulfed them both, and the battlefield vanished.
Part 2: The City of the Lost
Sylvaen gasped as her feet landed on solid ground—a strange sensation after standing on a battlefield of broken land and void. The air was warmer here, carrying the scent of ancient stone and something electric, something alive.
She blinked against the brightness and found herself standing in a place she had never seen before.
A city stretched before her.
Not a ruined battlefield. Not a crumbling relic of the past. This place was thriving—towers of stone and glass rose high into the sky, bridges of glowing energy connecting them like veins of light. The streets below bustled with figures—some human, some… not.
Sylvaen turned to Kaelen in shock. "Where—where are we?"
Kaelen's gaze was distant, unreadable. "Welcome to Elarion—the last sanctuary of the Skyborne."
The name struck something deep within her. Skyborne. She had heard that word before, whispered in forgotten texts and buried in half-remembered dreams.
"Skyborne?" she echoed.
Kaelen nodded. "Those who were born from the fragments of the Skyshards. Those who came before us. Before the Hollow Chorus. Before the wars."
Sylvaen's breath caught in her throat. "You mean… there are others like me?"
Kaelen's gaze met hers. "Yes. And they've been waiting for you."
Sylvaen's mind reeled. For so long, she had believed she was alone in this fight, the only one chosen by the Shard's power. But now, standing here in this city of light and mystery, she realized how much she did not know.
The answers she had been searching for… they were here.
And yet, as she looked up at the towering city, a sense of foreboding settled in her chest.
Because something told her that not all of the Skyborne would welcome her presence.
And the deeper she ventured into Elarion, the more secrets she would uncover—secrets that could change everything.
To be continued.....