Elara stepped away from the ruins of the Temple of Lumina with the Astral Heart still pulsing in her palm—a gentle reminder of both her newfound power and the immense responsibility that lay before her. The cool night air, rich with the scent of pine and distant rain, carried with it an undercurrent of ancient magic, whispering promises and warnings in equal measure. Every step on the worn cobblestones of the highland path echoed like a heartbeat, steady and resolute.