Tucked away in the misty Valendri Highlands, hidden deep within an ancient forest, was a quiet little village few outsiders ever visited. It was there, in a modest wooden cottage surrounded by tall whispering trees, that sixteen-year-old Elira Valendri lived a life of gentle routine. Her hair, a cascade of golden strands, caught the morning light like wildfire. Her eyes—strikingly the same shade—held a quiet warmth, like sunlight filtered through leaves.
That morning, as Elira stepped outside, the cool air kissed her skin. In the yard, her aunt was already at work, pinning damp clothes to the line. The sight brought a smile to Elira's face, soft and sincere. Her aunt was all she had left of family—her only anchor in a world that had long since changed.
She walked over, and as she approached, her aunt turned. Her wavy hair lifted in the breeze, and for a moment, her golden eyes sparkled with light and laughter.
"You're up, dear," her aunt said, smiling in that familiar, comforting way. "Why don't you fetch some water from the well? We'll need it for the rest of the day."
"Yes, Aunt," Elira replied cheerfully. With a wooden bucket in hand, she set off toward the forest path that led to the village well.
As she passed the small fruit stand near the edge of the yard, the familiar voice of the fruit-seller aunt called out to her.
"Good morning, Elira! Did you sleep well, dear? Would you like an apple?"
Elira smiled brightly at the kind woman, her steps slowing. "I slept well, Auntie. Thank you! I'm heading to the well in the forest now."
The woman's face lit up with fondness. "That's good to hear. Go on, then—but don't forget to stop by and chat with me after. Granny's been missing you."
"I will! Please tell Granny I'll come by later," Elira called out, lifting a hand in a cheerful wave as she continued down the path.
The fruit-seller watched her go, her expression softening with a touch of sorrow. She sighed quietly to herself.
"What a sweet girl… If only her parents were still alive."
As Elira walked along the worn forest path toward the well, her gaze drifted to the side—and caught on something half-hidden among the trees. Weathered stone walls rose from a bed of moss and tangled roots, the remnants of an old temple long claimed by the forest. Vines curled around its pillars like grasping fingers, and the roof was barely visible beneath a blanket of creeping ivy. It looked ancient, forgotten—like no one had stepped foot there in years.
She was just about to turn her attention back to the path when a strange feeling washed over her. It wasn't fear, exactly—more like a gentle pull, as if something unseen was calling to her. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and stirring her golden bangs until they danced across her face.
Pushing her hair behind her ear, Elira looked toward the temple once more. Her heart beat a little faster. She didn't know why, but her feet began to move—slowly, almost on their own—as if some part of her already knew she was meant to go there.
What is this feeling…? Elira's thoughts raced as her feet carried her closer to the ancient temple. Why does it feel like something is calling me? I can't explain it... but it's as if it wants me to be here.
She stepped cautiously toward the moss-covered gate, the air thick with stillness. But just as she reached the threshold, a sudden burst of blinding light exploded from within the temple.
"Ugh—!" she cried out, shielding her eyes with her arms as the brilliance engulfed her.
For a moment, everything was white.
Then, slowly, the light faded.
Elira blinked, lowering her hands. Her breath caught in her throat.
The once-faded gate was now glowing, etched with strange, ancient symbols she didn't recognize. The carvings pulsed gently with soft blue light, as if the stone itself was alive and breathing.
A thrill ran through her body—warm, electric, unfamiliar. Her eyes widened, lips parting in awe.
Could this be…? she thought, heart pounding. Is this the legend Granny told me about? The forgotten magicians who could command the elements with just their fingers…?
She stepped closer, drawn in by the mysterious glow, her soul humming with the weight of destiny.
Drawn by the glowing symbols, Elira reached out and placed her hand gently against the stone.
The carvings pulsed beneath her palm—and suddenly, the ground trembled.
She gasped, staggering back a step as the temple began to shake around her. Dust rained down from the overgrown pillars. Her legs trembled, and for a moment, her knees nearly gave out beneath her.
The massive gates groaned, ancient hinges creaking as they began to open on their own, inch by inch. A strange energy swirled in the air, brushing against her skin like cold fingers. The feeling that had pulled her here was stronger now—louder, deeper. It didn't just beckon. It urged her forward, almost desperate, as if the temple itself needed her to enter.
But just as she was about to step inside, a chilling thought shot through her mind—one that turned her excitement into dread.
What if this is like the ghost stories Granny used to tell? she thought, eyes wide. What if I go in… and never come out? What if something inside is waiting to eat me?
Her breath hitched. Her body trembled. Her skin turned cold, and her face went pale as fear gripped her like a vice.
She stood frozen at the threshold—torn between the weight of old tales and the tug of something unknown.
Her eyes welled with tears, and her voice began to tremble as fear took hold.
"I-I don't want to get eaten… I don't want to die… h-huhuhu…"
Her hands balled into fists at her sides, body shaking. But then, from within the temple, a soft wind stirred.
It carried with it a gentle hum—almost like a song. A soothing aura wrapped around her like a warm blanket, easing the fear in her chest, quieting the panic in her heart. The dread lifted, replaced by a strange calm.
Elira blinked. Her tears stopped.
She looked toward the open temple gate once more, and a small, hesitant smile found its way back to her face. Her eyes twinkled again with cautious wonder.
It can't be a ghost, she told herself, sniffing. Granny always said ghosts only come out at night. And it's broad daylight right now. I'm totally safe… hehe.
With that thought—and a slightly nervous giggle—she stepped through the entrance.
But the moment her foot crossed the threshold, the great doors slammed shut behind her with a heavy thud.
Darkness swallowed the space.
Elira froze.
Her breath caught in her throat. Then her knees gave way beneath her, and she dropped to the stone floor.
Tears came rushing back, fast and uncontrollable.
"OUWAAAAH! I don't want to die!" she wailed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ghost! I won't go in again! Please open the door! Don't eat me—OUWAAAAAH!"
Her sobs echoed through the pitch-black chamber, filling the ancient silence with a desperate, childish honesty that no monster could ignore.
Suddenly, a deep, resonant voice echoed through the temple, shaking the very walls with its weight.
"A Silver Covenant bloodline has appeared... At last, the legacy may be passed on."
The air trembled with power. Dust drifted down from the high arches above. Ancient magic stirred, alive again after centuries of silence.
But Elira didn't notice any of that.
She was still curled up on the cold stone floor, bawling her heart out.
"Waaaah! A ghost voice! Please spare me!" she cried. "I-I don't want any legacy! I just came for the bathroom—no wait, I mean—I came to get water! From the well! Not legacy things! I swear!"
Her face was blotchy, her nose red, tears streaming like a river as she clung to her bucket like it might protect her from ancient curses.
Somewhere in the stillness, something ancient... sighed.