The night deepened as Kai and Elara left the western ridge behind, the pulsing rift still glowing faintly in the distance like a wound in the earth. Eldoria slept uneasily, unaware of how close darkness was to breaking free beneath their feet.
Elara held the amulet tightly as they walked through the ancient forest path. Its light flickered in quick, uneven intervals—almost as though it were trying to guide them.
"Kai," she whispered, "the amulet isn't reacting to danger. It's showing us a direction."
Kai glanced at her. "Towards the mountains?"
"Yes. The guardian's line was said to retreat into the high passes after the war of the First Shadow."
She paused. "If any heir survived… they would be there."
The forest grew denser, the trees older, their roots twisted like silent reminders of forgotten histories. A cold wind swept through the branches, carrying with it faint whispers—echoes of ancient magic.
Suddenly, the amulet pulsed brighter, its light forming a thin trail of sparks that drifted ahead and disappeared into the darkness.
Kai's hand went to his sword. "Elara… is the guardian calling us?"
"No," she replied softly, her eyes narrowing. "Someone else is."
Before Kai could question further, a shadow moved between the trees. Not monstrous—human. A hooded figure stood at a distance, illuminated only by the amulet's glow.
"Elara of Eldoria," the figure said, voice calm, almost tired. "You're seeking the last heir."
Kai stepped protectively in front of her. "Who are you?"
The figure lowered their hood.
Silver hair. Marked eyes. A faint glow beneath the skin—light, but fractured.
Elara gasped.
"Kai… he's not just an heir."
The man looked at them with a haunted expression.
"I am the guardian you seek," he said.
"And you're too late. The seal has already begun to break… because of me."