The twin moons of Eryndor hung low in the sky, their silver light casting an ethereal glow over the war-torn plains. The air shimmered with remnants of magic, fractured and unstable, clashing with the cold hum of advanced machinery that patrolled the skies.
Eryndor was a world of contradictions—where ancient magic coursed through the veins of the land, yet towering metallic cities pierced the clouds, ruled by factions that sought to suppress that magic at all costs.
Aeliana stood on the edge of the ruins, her dark cloak billowing in the wind. Her silver hair, streaked with faint traces of stardust, marked her as one of the last starmages, a race nearly wiped out in the Great Purge. She gripped her staff tightly, its crystalline core pulsing faintly in rhythm with her heartbeat. Tonight was a night of reckoning.
From her vantage point, she watched as the faction soldiers—dressed in their sleek, black exosuits—descended on the ancient temple below. Their mission was clear: retrieve the Celestial Shard, a relic of immense power rumored to have the ability to rewrite the fabric of the universe. And they were right—such power existed. But Aeliana wasn't about to let them have it.
She took a deep breath, summoning the stars' energy into her staff. Her mentor's voice echoed in her mind: "Never let them see your fear, Aeliana. You are the last light in the darkness."
But just as she prepared to descend into the fray, a shadow moved behind her.
"You're not the only one interested in that shard," a gruff voice said.
Aeliana spun around, her staff crackling with energy, to find a man leaning casually against a crumbled column. He wore battle-worn armor, mismatched pieces suggesting a life of scavenging and survival. His piercing green eyes locked onto hers, and for a brief moment, she faltered.