The sun dipped low over the jagged peaks bordering Elyria's western edge. Aelira's group had journeyed through thick forest and rocky hills, following whispered rumors of a mana-beast prowling the nearby border town of Greystone. The villagers had sent word that crops were wilting unnaturally, livestock vanished, and eerie howls haunted the nights.
Thorne's heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel road as he kept watch, his gruff voice low but steady. "We'll find this beast and put an end to its terror. No one else needs to suffer."
Aelira nodded, her fingers brushing the pendant hanging at her throat. The magic within pulsed softly, echoing the tension in the air. Beside her, Master Oren ruffled his feathers nervously.
"We'd best be careful. This beast isn't like the ones we fought before," the owl warned, his golden eyes sharp.
Suddenly, from the shadows, a flash of movement—swift, agile—darted between the trees. A slender figure stepped into the fading light, twin daggers gleaming: Lyra Vexwind, the elven rogue with a sharp tongue and a wary gaze.
"Looks like I'm not the only one hunting tonight," she said, smirking but keeping her daggers ready.
Thorne grunted, crossing his arms. "We could use an extra blade. Just don't slow us down."
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "I move faster than you think, or care to admit."
Aelira stepped forward, sensing a kindred spirit beneath Lyra's guarded exterior. "We're after the same thing. Maybe it's better if we work together."
Lyra hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But I'm not playing nice."
The uneasy alliance barely had time to form before a bloodcurdling roar shattered the silence. From the dense forest, the mana-beast emerged, a massive wolf-like creature crackling with dark energy, eyes glowing with unnatural fire.
Lyra's blades flashed, striking the beast's flank with precision. Thorne charged, axe swinging in brutal arcs. Aelira raised her hands, weaving a shimmering shield of light to protect them.
But the beast was cunning, its elemental magic surging in waves that tested their defenses. Kaelon, silent as ever, stepped forward, his hands glowing with an icy blue aura. With a desperate effort, he unleashed a blast of frost that staggered the creature.
Master Oren flew overhead, chanting incantations from his old mage days, weaving protective spells.
Together, they fought with growing cohesion. Lyra's agility danced around Thorne's strength and Aelira's emerging power. When the beast finally collapsed, the group stood panting but victorious.
As the adrenaline faded, Lyra looked at Aelira. "You're stronger than I expected. Maybe this will be interesting after all."
Aelira smiled, hope blooming in her chest. For the first time, her journey felt less solitary.
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