A brittle hush settled over the ivy-choked courtyard as the guardians approached the black stone altar at its center. Moonlight drained from the sky, and the wind dropped to a trembling sigh. Shadows pooled in the carved grooves of the altar, forming writhing shapes that seemed to leer up at them.
Riven drew his lantern from beneath his cloak. Its Wellspring seed glowed pure white, casting away half the darkness. "The Cult's final corruption festers here," he said. "That altar was once a beacon of unity—now it feeds on division. We must reclaim it."
Lior stepped forward, flame dancing at his fingertips. He laid his palm on the altar's rim and felt a pulse of icy malice beneath the stone. With a breath, he let a line of ember-light trace the carved sigils, burning away the darkest runes. The stone hissed, and a ribbon of black smoke coiled into a fist, then dissolved under his fire.
Sylas closed his eyes, wind stirring in slow eddies around them. He whispered a Zephyr invocation, and a current wound through the courtyard, sweeping the loosened soot into spirals that floated harmlessly skyward. The wind coaxed away the worst of the corruption's stench, leaving only clean, cool night air.
Corwin knelt, touching the altar's carved basin of wave-runes. He poured a steady arc of purified conch-water into its hollow. The liquid glowed silver, flooding the grooves until the runes shimmered with renewed clarity. As the water spread, the faint echo of distant tides echoed through the courtyard walls.
Bram planted his staff tip at the altar's base. Living roots quivered beneath the obsidian slabs and then burst upward in a lattice of green and gold, weaving through every crack. The roots cracked the stone free of darkness and knit the fragments into a living framework once more.
In the center of the altar, the Cult's final agent emerged: a wraith of fractured light and shadow, its form shifting between every guardian's doubt.
"You cannot stand united forever," it hissed, voice like broken glass.
Lior felt his ember flicker.
Sylas felt the wind grow heavy.
Corwin heard the tide's roar turn to a drowning clamor.
Bram felt the earth tremble beneath his roots.
Riven's voice rang out: "Remember the vow that reforged Aetherion! Hold fast!"
Lior answered with fire, sending a spiral of embers to encircle the wraith. Sylas countered its shifting darkness with a gale that sliced through its form. Corwin blasted a scalding wave that steamed against the wraith's core, and Bram drove his staff into the altar, sending living stone through the wraith's mist until it shattered in a burst of white light.
The echoes of its scream faded, and the altar lay still—cleansed, alive with elemental glow. From its center rose a single blossom: a living petal of the Wellspring, spun from flame-gold, wind-silver, tide-blue, and stone-green.
Lior lowered his hand, voice hushed. "It blooms again."
Sylas let the breeze carry a single petal skyward. "Its song is freedom."
Corwin cupped the blossom in his conch. "Its flow is life."
Bram sealed the roots around the altar's base. "Its strength is forever."
Riven stepped forward, laying the Wellspring seed beside the blossom. "By cleansing the Cult's altar, you have reclaimed Stormpeak's heart—and with it, the last ember of Aetherion's past corruption."
Beyond the courtyard's battered walls, the fortress felt different: its spires less menacing, its battlements less forbidding. The storm-torn banners wilted, then fell away in silent tribute.
Lior drew a breath of crisp mountain air. "No darkness remains."
Sylas smiled, wind lifting his hair. "Only dawn."
Corwin released the petal back to the altar. "Only life."
Bram placed a final rune of living stone at the blossom's base. "Only unity."
As the first light of dawn touched Stormpeak's stones, the guardians gathered at the altar—flame, wind, tide, and stone woven into a single bloom. In that moment, the fortress doors behind them creaked open, as if welcoming Aetherion's true heirs home.
Together, they stepped beyond the courtyard, hearts bound by the vow that would carry their kingdom into its brightest dawn.