The Last Star-Bearer: Heir of the Shattered Light

CHAPTER 5: HE WHO COMES FROM UNKNOWN

“We must seal this fissure,” Gorath declared, his voice like grinding stone. “the shadows will return with a vengeance. If we can at least delay the time they came back again to do trouble, we can have the delay as much as possible.«

Aelar stepped forward, his hand igniting a small, controlled blaze. “Then let us bind our elements together. We will create a temporary seal that darkness will darkness find it difficult to breach.”

Tristan felt a tremor under his feet, as though the earth itself recognized his presence. He looked up at the sky, now a clear canvas of early morning blue, the sun breaking over the horizon, its rays spilling gold across the battlefield.

“Will you… help us?” Seraphine asked, her eyes pleading yet hopeful.

He hesitated, the weight of countless lives pressing upon him. The fear that had rooted him moments before melted away, replaced by a strange calm. He lifted his palms once more, not to unleash destruction, but to channel.

“I don't know but...I will,” he said, his voice steady. “Just guide me on what I can do.”

The Arch Mages chanted in unison, each element resonating with his golden aura.

”Quattuor Elementa.... quae Lumen regunt, auxilium vestrum.... imploramus ut malum ex.... hoc mundo obsignemus....” A vortex of fire, water, earth, and wind swirled around Tristan, coalescing into a radiant dome that rose over the battlefield, shimmering like a pearl in the dawn.

”Solis et Lunae magias invocamus ad hoc propositum roborandum.”

For a heartbeat, the world held its breath. Then the dome pulsed, a wave of pure, searing light rippling outward, striking the lingering shadow creatures still clinging to the periphery. They shrieked, disintegrating into ash and vapor, their essence scattered by the Sun’s Blessing.

When the last echo faded, the battlefield lay quiet. The Lumen warriors, bruised and bloodied, knelt in reverence. The Arch Mages lowered their staffs, their faces softened, though their eyes still held a flicker of awe.

Seraphine stepped forward, her hands resting lightly on Tristan’s shoulders. “You have awakened a power that was meant to be a myth,” she said. “But myths are stories told to keep hope alive. Today, you have become the story.”

Tristan looked toward the horizon, where the first true sunrise painted the world in gold. The wind whispered through his hair, carrying with it the faintest syllables of the ancient language that had first spoken to him.

A young Lumen scout, his armor gleaming, approached and knelt beside him. “Who… who are you, truly?” he asked, eyes wide with reverence.

Tristan took a deep breath, feeling the lingering hum of the sun’s energy within him. He smiled, a faint, weary smile, and answered in a voice that resonated with the newfound power.

“I am no one,” he said. “I am just no one from the human world. I don't know why I'm even here in this place. I don't know that magic even exists.”

A murmur spread through the ranks, a chorus of hope and determination. The four Arch Mages, their elemental sigils now dimmed by the dawn’s light, exchanged a final glance.

“The question remains,” whispered Lirien, his eyes turning skyward. “Who is this creature that bears the sun and moon's Blessing?”

Seraphine lifted her gaze to Tristan, her voice soft as a prayer. “He is the dawn reborn, the Light’s own child. And he will be the beacon that guides us through the dark.”

Tristan shook his head and said, ”No I'm not the one you're talking about. You must be mistaken.”

The sun broke fully over the plains, bathing the battlefield in a radiant glow. As the light washed over the fallen and the wounded, it also illuminated a path forward—a path where a stranger from the mortal world, a priestess, and four elemental mages stood together against the encroaching night.

Tristan started to feel dizzy as if every ounce of energy was seeping out from him. He fell to his knees. Before he completely black out... he feels a shoulder leaning on him to support him. Then everything goes black.

And in the hearts of all who witnessed the miracle, a single thought echoed, louder than any battle cry: Who is this creature?... Is he the hope the world had forgotten, now awakened? Is the story of his rise sung for generations to come? Or is he the catalyst of mass destruction? No one knows.