Title: The Starborn ProphecyGenre: Fantasy / AdventurePart 3: The Sky That Spoke
1201 Words
The final shard waited beyond the known borders of Elarion—in the Umbravale, the land of endless night. Few maps dared chart it, and no magic dared touch it. This was where the sun had never risen, where shadows lived not as absence of light… but as living things.
Liora and her wind drake crossed the border at dusk. Instantly, the light behind her faded, swallowed by a creeping blackness that gnawed at the stars. Her breath turned cold, her cloak heavy, and her heartbeat unnaturally loud.
She landed on a desolate plain of ash, where twisted trees clawed the sky and rivers flowed backward. Time felt... uncertain. Days passed like minutes—or was it minutes like days?
A tall black gate loomed ahead: the entrance to the Throne of the Forgotten.
As she stepped through, the shadows stirred—and spoke.
> “Liora... Child of Light and Void… you carry two flames… but to claim the third, you must surrender yourself.”
From the gloom emerged a figure—her own reflection.
But it wasn’t truly her. This version of Liora had blackened eyes, her silver hair turned to smoke, and her voice was calm… and cruel.
“I am what you hide,” the shadow-Liora said. “Your anger. Your fear. Your doubt. I am the part of you that could become the Forgotten One.”
“That’s not who I am.”
“Not yet.”
The final shard floated above a black altar between them—the Shard of Shadow, veiled in smoke, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Shadow-Liora raised a blade. “Then prove it. Defeat me… or become me.”
The battle was unlike any Liora had faced. Her enemy knew her every move, every weakness. Each strike felt like fighting herself. Every time Liora hesitated, the shadow laughed.
“You fear the darkness within. That’s why it controls you.”
“No!” Liora screamed. “I accept it.”
She dropped her blade.
The shadow froze. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t need to destroy you,” Liora whispered. “I need to understand you.”
Light flared from her chest. The two versions of her were drawn together—not in combat, but in unity. As she embraced the shadow, her form glowed with silver and black—perfectly balanced.
The final shard came to her willingly.
It melted into her palm, and suddenly the three shards pulsed as one—combining into a flame of swirling starlight.
The Starborn Flame was reborn.
From the earth, the black stone cracked open. The Forgotten One rose.
Ten feet tall. Skin like obsidian. Wings like smoke. Eyes like dying suns.
“Too late,” he snarled. “You cannot stop me. I am you.”
Liora stepped forward, glowing with power.
“No,” she said. “You’re what I could’ve become. But I chose light—and shadow. Fire—and calm. I am not your prisoner.”
She raised the Starborn Flame.
The world trembled.
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The Forgotten One unfurled his wings of smoke, blocking the sky. All of Elarion trembled as his voice rumbled through the Realms of Fire, Air, and Shadow.
> “You dare wield the Flame of the Stars? You are a child born of light and dust. I was the beginning. I will be the end.”
Liora’s hands shook, the Starborn Flame swirling between them—a sphere of light and shadow, wind and fire, singing in the voice of the cosmos.
She stood at the summit of the Oblivion Spire, the highest point in the Umbravale. Below her, the land was breaking apart, split by rising black veins of corruption. The stars above flickered, dimmed by the Forgotten One’s growing presence.
“No,” she said, lifting her chin. “You were the silence before creation. But I am the song.”
With a cry, the Flame surged from her chest, encasing her in armor of starlight. Wings of wind and fire blazed from her back. Her eyes glowed like twin moons. She floated above the spire, facing the ancient chaos that had haunted Elarion for millennia.
And then—war erupted.
He struck with spears of shadow, claws of nightmare, illusions of fear. But Liora countered with light, not to destroy—but to balance. She understood now: the Flame was not only power. It was choice.
She was no longer the frightened girl from Astrael. She was the sum of her trials—the storm she faced in the Caverns of Whispers, the fire she accepted on Mount Vehrakar, the shadow she embraced in Umbravale.
Every swing of her blade Elaris sang with the voices of those who had come before her. Every strike of the Starborn Flame echoed with celestial music, older than the sky itself.
The battle shook the heavens.
Across Elarion, people paused. In the cities of crystal and the floating islands of flame, in the cloud villages and forest towers—they looked up. They saw the sky burning, torn by a war of prophecy.
And they began to sing.
Ancient chants. Songs of stars. Lullabies and laments, prayers and battle cries.
All joined the flame.
The people gave her their light.
And Liora rose higher.
The Forgotten One screamed in rage. “I will not be undone by a mortal spark!”
“You were never undone,” Liora said, her voice calm. “You were changed.”
She extended her hand. The Starborn Flame surged—not to destroy, but to seal.
Light wrapped around the Forgotten One like silver vines, pulling him down, down, down—into the mountain, into the deep where silence had first born him.
“Sleep now,” she whispered. “And may your dreams be stars.”
With a final roar, he vanished.
The darkness shattered.
Sunlight burst through the clouds above Umbravale for the first time in ten thousand years. The land began to heal. Black trees bloomed into crystal blossoms. Rivers flowed with silver light.
The skies lit up with the full constellation of the Starborn—three stars aligned at the center.
Liora collapsed, the armor vanishing, her strength spent.
She awoke days later in Astrael, surrounded by familiar faces. Master Calven wept and held her close. The towers rang with joy. The people had seen her victory. They knew peace had returned.
But Liora knew better.
Peace was not a gift—it was a task. A choice, made every day.
And she was ready.
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Epilogue: Legacy of the Flame
A hundred years passed.
Liora became the first High Starwarden of Elarion. She rebuilt the broken cities, united the Realms, taught balance over destruction. Magic changed. It became more than power—it became harmony.
The Starborn Flame, now crystalized, was placed at the heart of Astrael as a reminder that darkness and light were never enemies—only parts of the same sky.
And deep below the world, where the Forgotten One dreamed in silence, a single star always shone above his tomb.
Not to mark a prison…
…but to promise that even in shadow, there is always light.
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- Writer
