---
The sky was calm now. The storm that once roared over the Forbidden Mountain had vanished, and the winds whispered gently around the group as they descended. Vayren, the Original of Wind, walked beside them—silent, thoughtful, no longer an enemy.
But peace never lasted long in their world.
As they reached the valley below, a sudden chill passed through the air. Chirag paused and looked around. The trees swayed, but not with the wind. It was something else—something darker.
Siya noticed it too. "Did you feel that?"
Kael tightened his grip on his weapon. "Something's watching us."
Vayren's eyes narrowed. "We're not alone."
From the shadows of the forest, a deep voice echoed. It was smooth, cold, and filled with amusement.
> "You gathered wind and flame, storm and shadow. But do you really think the darkness will let you win so easily?"
A figure stepped from the shadows. He wore a long black cloak that seemed to drink in the light. His eyes glowed red like burning coal, and a faint mist followed his every move.
Mirakha stepped in front of Chirag. "It's him. The one we feared would return."
The figure bowed slightly. "Ah… so the stories haven't forgotten me. How flattering. I am Zorak, the Original of Shadows. And I've come… to end your little parade."
Chirag took a step forward. "If you've come to fight, then we're ready."
Zorak laughed. "Fight? No, no, boy. I'm just here to watch. For now. I want to see if the broken pieces of this world can truly stand against the gods. I want to see your hope burn."
Vayren stepped forward, wind swirling at his feet. "You betrayed the balance, Zorak. You spread fear and lies."
Zorak's smile never faded. "And yet, here I am… still standing, while the rest of you begged for peace."
He raised his hand, and a wave of darkness flowed from his fingertips like ink in water. The ground cracked, and a shadow beast emerged—large, horned, its eyes empty.
"Let's make it interesting," Zorak said. "Survive this… or lose your flame."
---
The battle exploded.
The shadow beast roared, charging at them with massive claws. Kael leapt forward, his spear crackling with lightning. He struck its shoulder, but the beast barely flinched.
"Too strong!" Kael shouted.
Mirakha created illusions to confuse it, while Vayren summoned a whirlwind to hold it back. Siya launched streams of blue fire, but the flames dimmed as the shadows absorbed them.
Chirag called on the Eternal Flame, focusing its energy into a sword of fire. He dashed forward, slashing at the beast's chest. This time, it howled in pain.
"It's weak to light!" he shouted. "Use everything bright—fire, lightning, illusions!"
The team worked together, timing their attacks. Kael struck with lightning, Siya poured flame from above, Mirakha blinded the beast, and Chirag landed the final blow—driving his sword deep into its heart.
The beast let out a final roar and crumbled into smoke.
Zorak clapped slowly. "Impressive. Truly. But don't get comfortable."
He raised both hands now, and the sky darkened again—not like a storm, but like the sun itself was being swallowed.
"This is only the beginning," Zorak said. "The gods may be strong, but it is the darkness within people—their fear, hate, and sorrow—that fuels me. You cannot destroy what lives in every heart."
Then, with a gust of shadow, he vanished.
---
The group stood in silence, breathing heavily.
Siya looked to Chirag. "He's testing us. Watching us."
Chirag nodded. "He's planning something."
Vayren's voice was grim. "Zorak isn't like the others. He feeds on emotions. He won't attack until the world is at its weakest… and then he'll strike from the inside."
Kael looked up at the sky. "So what now?"
Chirag turned to his friends. "We keep going. We bring the rest of the Originals to our side—or defeat them if we must. We have to unite the world before Zorak finds a way to break it."
Mirakha whispered, "And we must protect the people from themselves… before fear does his job for him."
They began to move again, but each step now felt heavier. Not from exhaustion—but from the knowledge that a shadow was following them.
Watching.
Waiting.
And ready to strike when hope burned brightest.
---