Carrying the Ruby Stone and Reflection of Power
After Lesendra's golden hand's powerful strike shattered the guardian of the second Ruby Stone, the temple chamber gradually settled, bathed in a red-gold glow radiating from the Ruby Stone, now standing calmly as if waiting to be claimed. Seira approached, gazing at Lesendra with awe in her eyes. "You… did it… without the sword. That's incredible."
Lesendra looked down at his golden hand, still glowing softly, his breaths heavy. "I… didn't expect this strength to exist within me. It feels like… it's not just physical power, but the strength of resolve, courage, and the wounds I've carried all this time."
Eryvan stepped closer, a faint smile on his face. "That's the true power of your golden hand, Lesendra. The sword is merely a tool. But your hand… it reflects your own soul. You're starting to understand that true power isn't just about weapons, but about who you are."
Lesendra clenched his golden hand, slowly dimming its glow to a faint light. He turned his gaze to the second Ruby Stone, which now slowly floated toward his sword, merging perfectly and making the weapon radiate a deeper, stronger light. The Ruby Stone had acknowledged Lesendra as its rightful wielder.
"Let's get out of here before the gods' forces surround us again," Seira said.
They walked out of the temple, their steps echoing among the ruins as the sound of approaching godly soldiers drew near. Yet as they stepped into the open, the red-gold light from Lesendra's sword flared brilliantly, sending out a wave of energy that scattered the enemy ranks, forcing them back in fear.
"Look at them…" Eryvan whispered, his eyes glinting. "They're starting to fear you, Lesendra. They're beginning to realize the Dark Throne is no longer invincible."
Lesendra gazed toward the dark expanse of Mythra, where the fires of rebellion were beginning to kindle. His golden hand clenched tightly, his eyes reflecting a newfound resolve. "I'll gather the remaining Ruby Stones. I'll unite this power. Not just to destroy them… but to free Mythra from the darkness that binds it."
Seira looked at him, her eyes filled with unwavering faith. "And I'll stand with you. Until the end."
Eryvan nodded, his staff shimmering faintly. "We'll build the power of rebellion. And when the time comes… the Dark Throne will fall."
Under the sky of Mythra, tinged red by the light of dawn, Lesendra, Seira, and Eryvan walked away from the temple of the second Ruby Stone, carrying newfound power, a burning resolve, and a spirit that could not be extinguished. Their journey had only just begun… and the fire of rebellion was about to blaze brighter than ever.
"We'll begin here," Eryvan said, his eyes glowing with a renewed spark as he surveyed the ruins. "This place was once the base of the ancient rebellion before the Dark Throne crushed it. Now… we'll rebuild it."
Seira and Lesendra worked together, repairing the broken stone walls, clearing the hidden passages, and constructing strategic rooms for the forces they planned to recruit. In no time, the secret rebel base came to life—torches flickering, rebellion banners unfurled, and weaponry arranged and prepared.
At the center of the main hall, Lesendra stood before a large stone table, his obsidian diamond sword now glowing with a steady red-gold light, infused with the power of the two Ruby Stones they had claimed.
"We can't stop here," Lesendra murmured, his gaze sharp as he stared at the map of Mythra. "The third Ruby Stone… I can feel it. It's far to the west of Mythra, inside the Temple of Light now under the Dark Throne's control. But… I also sense something different. Something far more dangerous than the previous guardians."
Eryvan nodded, his expression tense. "That temple isn't guarded by mere creatures. It's a place where illusion and time intertwine. Anyone who enters unprepared will be lost forever in an endless labyrinth of time."
Seira clenched her fists. "Then we need a solid plan. We'll need enough troops to hold off the gods' forces outside, while Lesendra goes into the temple and claims the third Ruby Stone."
Lesendra looked at them both, his eyes burning with determination. His golden hand clenched tight, radiating a faint glow, as if the power within him was steadily growing. "I'll lead this army. I'll rally the remaining people of Mythra brave enough to fight. We'll make the Dark Throne tremble before us."
Eryvan placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll prepare the weapons, the troops, and the strategy. And when you step into that temple, remember… your golden hand's power isn't just about destroying. It's about staying true to who you are."
Seira offered a faint smile, her eyes glistening with emotion. "We start today. And we'll carry Mythra to freedom."
Under a Mythra sky now shrouded in dark clouds and a faint red glow, the secret rebel base stirred to life—torches blazing, weapons sharpened, and the spirit of resistance burning bright. Lesendra stood at the center, sword in one hand, his golden hand beginning to radiate a new strength in the other, signaling that the great war against the Dark Throne had just begun.
In the command chamber of the rebel base, Lesendra stood before the map of Mythra, his obsidian diamond sword glowing steadily red-gold, though his eyes reflected deep scars and a profound understanding. Seira and Eryvan looked to him, waiting for his crucial decision.
"I…" Lesendra whispered, his hand tightening over the stone table, his eyes shining with a calm resolve. "I can't let the people become casualties of this war. I can't force them to fight for a power that would only replace one tyranny with another."
Seira gasped softly. "But… if we don't fight, the Dark Throne will keep oppressing us…"
Lesendra met her gaze, his voice steady but filled with wisdom. "I will fight. But not to seize power from their hands. I'll fight to free this world from their shadow. I'll reject the gods' claim as supreme rulers. Their power isn't a reason to rule. This world isn't theirs."
Eryvan studied Lesendra for a long moment, his voice heavy. "Why do you so desperately want to bring them down?"
Lesendra's eyes glowed with red-gold light, full of conviction and a fierce philosophy. "Because the power we call 'god'… doesn't belong solely to them. They're just a few who exploit ancient forces to oppress. I believe true power should never be a tool of domination. True power belongs to all beings. And I will shatter the illusion that the gods have a right to rule. This world… is not their kingdom. This world belongs to us all."
Seira's eyes welled with tears as she gazed at Lesendra, admiration in her look. "You… you're not just a hero. You're the light guiding us out of the darkness."
Eryvan nodded slowly, his eyes filled with respect. "You hold a philosophy even the gods fear. And that's why they want to destroy you."
Lesendra clenched his golden hand, which now glowed warmly, no longer just a source of power, but a symbol of unwavering conviction. "If they want to destroy me for refusing to bow down… so be it. I won't let this world stay shackled by their shadow of power. I'll destroy the illusion they've built. I'll free this world… not just from their might, but from the fear of their control."
Seira bowed her head, tears streaming down her face. "I'll follow you… to the end."
Eryvan smiled faintly. "So will I. Because you… you're not just a hero of Mythra. You're a symbol of freedom."
Under the warm torchlight of the rebel base, Lesendra, Seira, and Eryvan began laying the plans for the journey to the Temple of Light, driven by a new, unbreakable resolve: their rebellion wasn't just about replacing one ruler with another—it was about dismantling the illusion of power itself.