The night before the Blood Moon was eerily still, the usual sounds of the wilderness silenced under the oppressive weight of the approaching ritual. Elena sat at the edge of their camp, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon, where the first hints of crimson light began to creep into the sky. The Blood Moon was almost here.
Roan, though still weak, had insisted on standing guard, refusing to rest despite the toll the Guardian bond had taken on him. Elena had argued with him, her fear for his health outweighing the urgency of their mission. But he had merely shaken his head, his expression grim.
"I can't afford to be weak now, Elena. Not when we're so close," he had said, his voice low and strained. “The priests are preparing for the ritual. We have no time to lose."
But Elena couldn't sh
