The portal shimmered before them, its swirling light flickering like a living heartbeat. Arinthal stood closest, her hand hovering just above the surface, the tip of her staff glowing faintly in resonance. Aria tightened the strap of her satchel across her chest, the newly forged sword resting at her hip—its crystal-blue blade pulsing with quiet energy, a creation bound by Arinthal's magic and Lyrien's soul-forged flower dust.
Behind them, the Void faded into silence, left behind like a memory. Ahead was Velmir—the first country in the magical realm and the beginning of their search for the fragments of the Echoes of Eternity.
"You ready?" Lyrien asked softly, his voice closer than she expected. Aria turned to find him watching her with a flicker of concern under his usual calm. His silver hair caught the glow of the portal, almost otherworldly. "It's not too late to rest one more night."
Aria smiled faintly. "I've had a lifetime of rest. It's time I do something that matters."
He held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. "Then let's do it together."
Without another word, the three stepped into the portal.
---
They emerged on the cliffs of Velmir—a land ruled by storms and glass. Endless skies of shattered clouds churned overhead, each one cracked like broken mirrors reflecting impossible skies. Shards of light fell like snow, dancing through the air but never cutting, as if time itself hesitated to harm them.
The wind screamed across the ridge as the trio surveyed the land. A ruined city sprawled below them, half-consumed by crystal storms and long-abandoned structures floating mid-air. Strange symbols glowed faintly on the broken buildings.
"This place feels… angry," Aria murmured.
"Velmir was once the realm of sky mages," Arinthal explained. "They tried to cage the sky itself. It didn't end well."
Their path wound down into the fractured city of **Ceylaar**, a place haunted by echoes. The buildings whispered when no one spoke, voices trapped in winds that circled but never left. As they ventured deeper, the pressure in the air thickened.
They didn't wait long before the first challenge arrived.
---
A creature of lightning and chain burst through the clouds—a titan wrapped in storm armor, its face a jagged helm of thunder. It landed hard before them, cracking the ground and unleashing a scream that shattered nearby stones.
"**The Tempest Knight**," Arinthal muttered. "Xandros's first sentinel."
The battle erupted in a flash of power.
Arinthal held him at bay with swirling vortexes, casting protection spells that bent the air. Lyrien darted through the battle with twin knives that shimmered like mirages. But the Knight was no ordinary foe—it fed on raw energy, growing stronger with each strike of magic.
"Aria! Channel your inner flow!" Arinthal shouted. "Stage Two won't hold if you resist it—trust it!"
Aria gritted her teeth, fear and power swirling inside her. The curse flickered at the edge of her mind like a blade waiting to be drawn. But this time, she didn't push it away.
She breathed in—**Breath of the Elements.** Earth. Air. Water. Fire.
Her heartbeat slowed. The storm around her dulled, drawn into her center. She moved, not with force but with flow—guiding her energy through the blade. The sword shimmered with her control as she struck.
**BOOM.**
The Knight reeled, cracked lightning spilling from its chest. Lyrien followed, blades slicing through its weakened core. Arinthal sealed it with a binding spell, locking its essence into a crystal.
Silence followed.
Aria stood still, trembling from the exertion. Lyrien placed a hand on her shoulder. "You did it."
She looked at him, flushed and breathless. "We did."
---
That night, they camped under the open shards of Velmir's sky. A fire crackled beside them, casting flickering light on tired faces.
Aria sat close to Lyrien, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "Thank you," she said. "For trusting me."
"You've got something inside you, Aria," he said. "Something that wants to burn everything… but instead you're learning to light the way."
She looked down, surprised by the gentleness in his words.
Arinthal, on the other side of the fire, chuckled softly without looking up from her notes. "Get used to it, Aria. He only gets poetic after near-death experiences."
Lyrien rolled his eyes, and Aria laughed—a sound more genuine than she'd made in days.
They had survived Velmir. One fragment down. Nine more to go.
And far above, in a throne carved of ruin and shadow, **Lord Xandros** watched through a mirror of broken stars.
"They've started," he said, his voice echoing through the void. "Let the next test begin."
---