The time of peace was long gone. The dimming of the light had begun. And so the fireflies started to die, one by one, taking with them the last bit of magic found within Gaia.

  Before he was King, L’os was an adventurer. He and his group had been traveling Gaia for the last year, using the phoenix portals to traverse the lands and visit old K’in structures scattered throughout the realm.

  He stepped into one of the portals as his companions followed him.

  “This is the tomb of Fenix,” he said, looking up. The sheer immensity of the statue was enough to give him vertigo as his eyes tried to realign. He focused his vision on a large piece of phoenix ore embedded in the middle of the statue, but as the sun struck its surface, the red reflection made it harder to see.

  He looked down as he stepped closer to the mountainside, his eyes adjusting to the dim light beneath the cliffs. They settled on a puddle of blood mixed with some form of black liquid.

  He followed it slowly.

  “Stay back,” he told his group as he approached whatever was bleeding, his heart slowing as he tried to remain unnoticed. He was a hunter and a warrior before a king, and it showed.

  He approached the desert bushes where the trail disappeared. Moving them aside carefully, he flicked his wrist and his markings began to glow. His eyes flared as a small dark blade formed in his hand.

  His vision sharpened as he pushed through the brush.

  A crystal stag lay on the ground, its antlers flickering between red, black, and white. Dark smoke coiled over its eyes. He stepped closer and extended his hand. The smoke did not clear, it recoiled. Avoiding his touch.

  To his side lay a fire drake, its belly sliced open, the same dark smoke escaping from its wound.

  He stood and looked back at his companions.

  “Do not get close,” he said, walking toward them. “I don’t know what’s happening here, but I have a bad feeling.”

  “What did you see?” one of them asked.

  “I’m not sure,” L’os replied. “There should be a sacred cave nearby. We need to make sure it’s untouched.”

  He quickened his pace toward the cave. The weight of the discovery showed in his stride, his head scanning the surroundings. As they approached, more dead creatures appeared.

  Sacred, magical, lifeless.

  “No… no, this can’t be,” he muttered as he neared the entrance. “Where is the phoenix ore? What happened to the entrance?”

  One of his companions snapped their fingers, conjuring a small flame to light the cave. The fire flickered against the walls, revealing empty veins where phoenix ore once glowed. Only abandoned mining equipment remained.

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  “They knew this was sacred,” the companion said. “They knew they were forbidden from crossing these parts.”

  “Look!” another shouted. “Fireflies!”

  Deeper inside the cave, across a narrow riverbed, the fireflies circled a dark rock formation. Their light faded as they hovered around it.

  “Let’s go,” L’os said, breaking into a run.

  “What is it?” he whispered as if speaking to the fireflies. “What are you trying to tell us?”

  He reached out and touched the rock.

  The fireflies began to lose their light.

  The ground trembled.

  Dust lifted from the black, obsidian-like formation as it began to shift. A head emerged, first red glowing eyes clouded by the same dark smoke, blinded by corruption.

  Then arms of cracked crystal rose, thin lines of red light escaping from the fractures. The creature stood upright, a dragon’s head forged of phoenix ore, its body a fusion of obsidian and crystal. At its center pulsed a red core. dim, flickering, weak.

  “A guardian,” L’os thought.

  But it was weak.

  No, not weak.

  Changed.

  Completely changed.

  The smoke poured from its eyes and mouth as dark liquid crept across its body, infecting the glowing cracks.

  Without warning, the creature’s arm slammed into the ground beside L’os.

  The guardian roared, but the sound broke midway, collapsing into something closer to a whimper.

  L’os did not hesitate.

  His markings flared brighter than ever before, light burning beneath his skin, he flicked his wrist and with a swift motion of his armed he summoned all his arms. A plethora of obsidian weapons of all kind surrounded him.

  A dark chain obstruced the creatures movement, L'os jumped and with him his weapons followed. He brought his arm back, and as if following his command, the weapons recoiled back, following the movement of his arm. His muscles tightening, his arms releasing smoke as they became a brighter more vivid red, redder than the color of his skin against the sun.

  He pushed his arm forward, opening his palm. The weapons followed.

  Each striking the creature's obsidian like armor, some passing through the cracks and impaling the guardian.

  L'os fell to the ground as the last of his blades penetrated the diming glowing core of the creature.

  He approached the now kneeling creatue and grabbed the blade which had pierced its core.

  The dark substance moving, reacting to each step L'os took.

  The dark liquid burst outward, crawling along his arm, searing, resisting.

  He held it there.

  Tears blurred his vision.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Though he did not know whether he spoke to the guardian, the fire, or Gaia itself.

  With a final surge, red fractured through black.

  The guardian convulsed.

  Then stilled.

  The smoke thinning from its eyes faded entirely.

  Its body collapsed inward, stone and crystal cracking apart until only fractured ore and cooling dust remained.

  Silence filled the cave.

  Not the silence of safety.

  The silence of something ended.

  L’os remained kneeling, breath trembling.

  From above, a single firefly drifted downward. Its glow was faint, softer than any he had seen before.

  It landed gently in his open palm.

  For a heartbeat, it flickered.

  Warm. Alive. Hopeful.

  Then its light dimmed.

  The glow receded into nothing.

  And the firefly dissolved into ash between his fingers.

  L’os did not move.

  Behind him, his companions approached carefully, boots crunching against crystal fragments.

  “My lord…” one of them began.

  He closed his hand slowly, as if trying to protect what was no longer there.

  “We must go back,” he said quietly.

  No anger. No panic. Only certainty.

  “The village is to be closed. Our people are no longer safe.”

  No one argued.

  Outside the cave, the remaining fireflies flickered weakly against the darkening sky.

  And somewhere beneath Gaia’s surface, the corruption continued to spread.