crown of self-interest

The early morning sun bathed the ruins of the Aetherborn civilization in a soft, golden light, illuminating the remnants of a once-vibrant society. Raelan stood among the scattered survivors, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and despair. The search for artifacts had yielded nothing but echoes of their lost past, leaving them grappling with the weight of their failure.

“I can’t believe we found nothing,” Eryndor muttered, his voice thick with disappointment. He kicked at the dirt beneath his feet, frustration radiating from his every movement. “After everything we’ve been through, I thought there would be something left.”

Lirael, her brow furrowed in concern, stepped forward. “We did our best. The ruins are vast, and time has not been kind. But we cannot lose hope. Our magic is still inside us, waiting to be awakened.”

Raelan surveyed the group, his heart heavy with the burden of leadership. “Lirael is right,” he said, his voice steady and calm. “We may not have found the artifacts we sought, but we have each other. That is a strength that cannot be diminished by loss.”

“But what are we supposed to do now?” Eryndor shot back, frustration boiling over. “How can we fight back without our magic? Without our history?”

Raelan stepped closer, lowering his voice to convey both firmness and compassion. “We will not let Zaros dictate our fate. We may not have our past to guide us, but we are not powerless. We can forge a new path, one that honors our legacy while building something stronger.”

A murmur of uncertainty rippled through the group. Lirael, sensing the wavering morale, added, “We are more than the artifacts we lost. We are the essence of the Aetherborn, and we carry our history within us. We can create new magic, new stories.”

“Create new magic?” Eryndor scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly. “That’s easier said than done. We’re scattered and broken. How can we even begin to stand against someone like Zaros?”

Raelan’s gaze hardened. “Because we are resilient. Each of you possesses a piece of our history. If we can find a way to reconnect with that, we can reclaim our strength. But it won’t happen here, in these ruins that hold only reminders of our failures.”

He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their shared grief. “We need to move. Staying here only puts you at risk. Zaros is still out there, and he will come for those he hasn’t destroyed yet. I cannot allow that.”

Lirael stepped closer, concern etched across her features. “Where do we go? If we leave, won’t we just be running?”

Raelan nodded, acknowledging the gravity of her question. “We’re not running; we’re seeking safety. I have a place in mind—the Sunborn. They have the resources and strength to protect you while we work to reclaim our magic.”

“Protect us?” Eryndor echoed, skepticism lacing his tone. “What if they don’t want us? What if they turn us away?”

“They will not turn you away,” Raelan replied, his confidence unwavering. “I know their leaders, and I trust them to stand with us against the darkness. But we cannot fight this battle alone. We need allies, and the Sunborn will offer that.”

The murmurs among the survivors grew more animated as they weighed their options. Lirael raised her voice, trying to rally their spirits. “If Raelan believes in this, then we should too! We need to give ourselves a chance to regroup and heal.”

Eryndor glanced around, meeting the eyes of the other survivors. Slowly, he nodded, though uncertainty lingered in his gaze. “I… I suppose it’s worth a try.”

“Then it’s settled,” Raelan said, a sense of resolve settling over him. “We leave for the Sunborn.”

The survivors began to gather their meager belongings, their movements heavy with resignation yet tinged with hope. Raelan felt the tension in the air as he prepared to teleport them, concentrating on the energy surrounding him.

“Listen carefully,” he instructed, his voice firm but reassuring. “Hold onto each other. I promise you will be safe. This will be a swift journey.”

As they formed a circle, he could feel their trepidation, the fear of the unknown mingling with the flickers of hope. “On my count. One… two… three!”

With a surge of light and energy, the world around them shimmered and twisted. The ruins of the Aetherborn faded into a blur, and Raelan focused on the Sunborn’s haven, picturing its vibrant landscape and welcoming energy.

When the blinding light subsided, they found themselves standing on a lush, verdant hill, bathed in sunlight. The Sunborn’s haven stretched out before them, filled with the sounds of life and the fragrance of blooming flowers.

Raelan opened his eyes, relief flooding through him as he turned to the survivors. “Welcome to the Sunborn. This is your new home.”

Lirael gasped, her expression shifting from trepidation to awe. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, taking in the vibrant colors and the gentle breeze that caressed their skin.

Raelan gestured to the expansive grounds ahead. “You are safe here. We will regroup and train together. This is where we will rebuild.”

Eryndor, still grappling with the enormity of the moment, spoke up. “And what if Zaros finds us here? What if he comes for us again?”

Raelan met his gaze, unwavering. “Then we will stand together. This time, we will be ready. We will reclaim our magic and our legacy.”

As they began to explore their new surroundings, Raelan felt a renewed sense of purpose. Together, they would rise from the ashes of their past, and he would ensure that the light of the Aetherborn would never be extinguished again.