Eira Nightborn moves swiftly, her breath visible in the chill air. She glances over her shoulder as footsteps approach—her heart pounding in her chest. The city feels alive, every window a watchful eye, every shadow a secret waiting to swallow her whole.
"The prophecy must reach the council before the moon wanes," she whispers, voice trembling with urgency.
High Seer Talien, his eyes clouded with visions, listens as Eira unrolls the scroll.
"The prophecy speaks of the Nightborn—a child marked by starlight, destined to end the darkness,"
"And if the child is found by the Shadow Court first, chaos will reign," Talien intones gravely, the council erupting in murmurs.
Varek, Shadow Court Assassin, emerges from darkness with twin daggers gleaming.
"The scroll, Nightborn. Hand it over and I might let you live,"
"You’ll have to catch me first," Eira spits, darting into a narrow passage as lightning splits the sky.
Her breath catches as she realizes the truth: she is the Nightborn. The weight of destiny settles on her shoulders, heavier than any cloak.
"This is why they hunt me," she murmurs, tracing the glowing mark, eyes brimming with fear and hope.
High Seer Talien appears, staff alight with celestial fire, flanked by council guardians.
"Stand down, Varek. The prophecy belongs to the light,"
"Prophecies are for those too weak to seize their fate," Varek snarls, lunging forward as Eira’s mark blazes with power.
"I am the Nightborn, and I claim my destiny," her voice rings clear, echoing through streets cleansed by rain.
High Seer Talien bows, and the people of Elaris gather, hope rekindled in their eyes as the prophecy is fulfilled.
