The Last Star Hunter
The world had grown darker, the stars fewer. Liora had always thought the stories were just that-stories. Tales of the old days when the stars spoke, their light guiding the hunters who protected the balance of magic. But now, as she stood in the crumbling ruins of the ancient temple, her fingers brushing against the cold edge of something impossibly sharp, she knew the stories were true.
The relic pulsed faintly beneath the dust, its light weak and flickering, like a dying ember. Liora hesitated, the air thick with an ancient, metallic taste. The blade she uncovered wasn't a sword-at least, not entirely. Its shape was jagged, like a shard torn from something much greater. The edge shimmered faintly in the dark, reflecting not her face, but the stars she hadn't seen in years.
Her breath caught. This was a piece of a fallen star.
The stories had whispered of these relics. Aevren Shards, they called them-fragments of stars that fell to the earth when their light faded from the sky. But no one had seen one in centuries. The old temples, scattered across the world, were little more than forgotten ruins now, their treasures looted or lost to time. Yet here it was, in her hands, humming with a power so old it made her bones ache.
She lifted it carefully, its light pulsing brighter at her touch. The shard was warm, as though it still carried the fire of the star it had once been. But there was something else. A whisper. No, a voice.
"Liora..."
She froze, her fingers tightening around the shard. The voice was soft, layered, and distant, like a thousand echoes speaking all at once. Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked around the empty chamber. Shadows danced along the cracked walls, but there was no one else here. Only her.
And the shard...
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