The first light of dawn filtered weakly through the twisted canopy above Thalas’zir, the hidden village of the cast-out Dark Elves and ancient Dwarf exiles. Deep within its shadowed walls, Thayrion and Kaylean stirred from their slumber, the warmth of the Rune-forged armor still fresh upon them. The memory of Queen Arlayna’s moonlit blessing lingered like soft wind across still water.
Thayrion spoke first, voice distant. “I dreamt of home… of Thalor’vandor, before the world turned dark. My father used to take me to the Sealed Gate, but the path… it wasn’t the one we used. There must be another entrance—another path into the dungeon.”
Kaylean’s eyes narrowed, understanding the weight behind the dream. He wasted no time, sending word through the elven rangers. Liraen and Taelar, the youngest among them, stepped forward, pledging to deliver the message to King Elandros himself. The existence of a second entrance could change everything.
Meanwhile, Thayrion and Kaylean began their descent into the dungeon, the air thick with ancient magic and unseen dread. Time slipped oddly around them—moments felt like hours, days like whispers. Kaylean cast a light barrier around them, but the deeper they ventured, the thicker the darkness became, like a living thing pressing against their souls.
Then, the gauntlets of Lumenya reacted.
Light burst from Thayrion’s hands, carving through the gloom, pushing back the oppressive fog that hung like a curse. The walls shimmered with old runes. The dungeon stirred.
A hiss echoed from the dark.
Before them stood the monstrous form of the Blood Serpent, reborn and pulsing with forbidden magic—called back by a necromancer of Kazh’tar, the Kingdom of the Fallen. At its side towered a grotesque Blood Ogre, flanked by snarling hobgoblins. Behind Thayrion and Kaylean, elven rangers readied their bows.
> “They’ve brought war beneath the earth,” Kaylean muttered.
With command in his tone, Kaylean ordered the rangers into formation. Though young, he now held the rank of the Huntmaster, as Katoen tended to his dying father. Archers climbed jagged stones, taking sniper positions. The battlefield was set—not in forest glades, but in cold, forgotten stone.
The Blood Serpent struck first—vomiting acid and venom, a storm of death. Thayrion raised his gauntlet, forming a shield of pure light to guard his brethren. Kaylean and the rangers returned fire, light arrows singing through the air, striking down hobgoblins and wounding the ogre’s flank.
Kaylean drew his moonlight bow, each arrow a promise of death. At his side, Thayrion summoned a light hammer, slamming it into the ground with divine might. The explosion sent hobgoblins flying like dry leaves in a hurricane. The Blood Ogre, howling in rage, leapt at him, mace raised high.
Shield met mace—steel met magic. The ogre’s horn shattered as Thayrion countered with his hammer, driving the beast back.
But the serpent was far from finished.
It lashed its tail at the rangers, sending many scattering. In a flash, Kaylean dashed forward, twin blades drawn, slicing the tail cleanly—but it regrew, hissing, burning with cursed flame.
> “It’s eaten a Phoenix of Life,” Thayrion realized. “It can’t die. Not like this.”
Then a thunderous voice boomed from above.
> “You need more than light—you need the rune’s true blessing!”
Baelor Stonereach, the cast-out dwarf of Thalas’zir, descended from the shadows, holding aloft a glowing sigil. He chanted in a tongue lost to most.
> “El’ruun ya’vantar. Silma tor’ashar. Núr eledhwen tel’galad!”
The Rune of Lumenya pulsed. Kaylean’s blades drank the light, changing form. The metal gleamed with dawnfire and starlight, twin crescents reborn as the completed Moonlight Blades.
Baelor bellowed, “Now finish it, elf!”
Kaylean moved like moonlight on water—elegant, deadly. He weaved between enemies, blades leaving trails of silver fire. The rangers, drained but determined, gave their last bursts of mana to cover the frontline.
Thayrion’s gaze found Kaylean’s.
> “We must end it now. Before our brethren fall.”
Kaylean nodded, wordless.
He ran. Up the serpent’s coils. Across its spine. With every slash, the creature screamed. From tail to head, he danced—until he stood atop its skull.
> “For Elharya!” he roared.
He plunged the Moonlight Blades deep into the serpent’s eyes.
A wave of radiant light erupted. The creature’s corrupted soul shattered. It writhed—and then dissolved into glowing dust.
The Blood Ogre, now alone, turned and fled into the depths.
Thayrion didn’t chase. He stood, breathing heavy, watching the shadows. Behind him, the rangers tended their wounds. The battle had been won—but at a great cost.
The brothers regrouped.
> “You’ve got your moonlight set,” Thayrion said with a grin. “How can I ever beat you now?”
Kaylean laughed. “You have Lumenya’s fire, brother. You are the Guardian of the Gate. I can’t hope to match you anymore.”
They rested for a moment, weapons sheathed, hearts still beating with the storm of battle.
Then—a sound.
The ground cracked beneath them.
A tunnel, ancient and unmarked, opened ahead. A red light burned from below, heat and flame licking at the stone.
And then it came.
A massive shadow, wreathed in fire, roared from the deep.
> “The Flame-Tyrant of Kazh’tar…” whispered Thayrion.
The next chapter awaited.
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#WhispersOfElharya #Chapter7 #FantasyEpic #RuneOfLumenya #DarkElfSaga #MoonlightBlades #IndieFantasy #ElvenTales #BrotherhoodOfLight #OneDuaOneBiteOneSoul #HalalBiteAndSoul
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