Under the crimson glow of the Blood Moon, legends were whispered across the lands of Valtheris. It was said that when the moon turned red, the gates of the forgotten realm would open, and the one who entered would either return with untold power—or never return at all.
Elias Thorne had spent his life chasing myths. A rogue adventurer with a sharp mind and an even sharper blade, he lived for the thrill of discovery. But this time, he wasn’t chasing a legend for mere curiosity. He had a debt to settle, and only the magic of the Blood Moon could save the person who mattered most.
The Call to Adventure
Elias had spent years searching for the Temple of Elduin, the fabled gateway that only appeared under the Blood Moon’s eerie light. His journey had led him through treacherous mountains, cursed ruins, and forgotten libraries, each step bringing him closer to the truth.
It wasn’t until he found himself in the city of Drakenshade, a place teeming with mercenaries and thieves, that he finally uncovered the last piece of the puzzle. The temple was real, hidden deep within the Ashen Wastes, where no sane traveler dared venture.
At the dimly lit corner of the Rusted Lantern Tavern, Elias met an old scholar named Varro, whose trembling hands clutched an ancient scroll.
“The Blood Moon rises in three nights,” Varro rasped. “The temple will reveal itself, but be warned—none who enter have ever come back whole.”
Elias smirked. “Then it’s a good thing I never come back empty-handed.”
The Journey into Darkness
The Ashen Wastes were as inhospitable as the stories claimed. The land was barren, cracked with deep scars that hissed with volcanic steam. Elias pressed forward, his boots crunching over brittle bones of past travelers who had underestimated the land’s cruelty.
By nightfall, the Blood Moon had risen, casting an eerie red glow over the horizon. Then, as the legends foretold, the temple emerged from the shifting sands—a colossal structure of black stone, its entrance yawning like the mouth of a beast.
Elias hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside.
The Trials of the Temple
The air within the temple was thick with whispers, voices from another time murmuring in an ancient tongue. The walls were lined with inscriptions of forgotten gods, their stone eyes watching as Elias made his way through the labyrinthine corridors.
Then came the first trial.
A chamber of mirrors stretched before him, reflecting not just his image but countless versions of himself—some older, some younger, some with eyes that were not his own. A deep voice echoed through the chamber.
“To move forward, you must find the true self.”
Elias hesitated. He had spent so long chasing legends, running from his past, that he barely recognized himself anymore. But then he saw it—a reflection that bore the scar over his right brow, the one he had earned in his first battle. Without a second thought, he stepped through it, and the illusions shattered around him.
The second trial awaited.
A bridge stretched over a chasm of darkness, and on the other side stood a hooded figure—a wraith with glowing red eyes.
“Speak the name of the one you fear most,” the wraith demanded.
Elias clenched his jaw. He had faced warlords, monsters, and ancient curses, but none had terrified him like the memory of his own failure.
“…Isolde,” he whispered.
The wraith stepped aside, and the bridge solidified beneath his feet.
The Heart of the Temple
At last, Elias reached the temple’s core—a grand chamber with a pedestal at its center. Resting atop it was the artifact he had sought: the Heart of Elduin, a crystal pulsing with an eerie crimson light.
But as he stepped forward, a figure emerged from the shadows.
Isolde.
She was as he remembered—fiery-eyed, fearless, and impossibly alive. But she had been lost to him years ago. This couldn’t be real.
“You left me,” she whispered, her voice laced with pain. “You let me die.”
Elias’s chest tightened. “I tried to save you.”
“And now you want to rewrite the past?” she asked, glancing at the Heart of Elduin. “This temple doesn’t grant wishes, Elias. It demands a price.”
He knew the cost of power was never small. The temple had tested his resolve, his identity, and his fears. Now, it tested his heart.
“Will you trade your soul for a second chance?” Isolde asked, stepping closer. “Or will you finally let me go?”
Elias trembled. He had spent years trying to bring her back. But in that moment, he realized the greatest adventure was not changing the past—but learning to live with it.
He stepped back from the artifact. “Goodbye, Isolde.”
She smiled, and as the Blood Moon faded, so did she.
The Return
Elias emerged from the temple as dawn broke over the Ashen Wastes. He had not gained power, nor had he rewritten fate. But he had faced his demons and survived.
And for the first time in years, he felt free.
As he turned toward the horizon, he knew his adventures were far from over. But this time, he would chase the future—not the past.
