Yue of the Moon: The Four Kings and the Cursed Sword Baltanders
The sky over the small town had turned the color of a bruised plum, exactly as the dark prophecies had foretold.
"Have you discovered the sword of Baltanders?" Orphen asked, his hand gripping the hilt of his own blade, his eyes scanning the twisting forest path ahead.
Yue floated just above the tree line, his large white wings catching the faint, eerie glow of the stars. "Yes, we have located it with the art of far sight," he replied, his voice calm but tight with tension. "It is located in a small town not far from here. Magic... it's here."
Orphen’s expression darkened. He turned sharply to the rest of the group. "And Orphen will follow that magic. Take the girls inside the mansion and don't come out no matter what." The Sorcerer Stabber looked directly at Sakura Avalon, who was clutching her sealing wand tightly, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and determination. "The Bloody August is here, and Ripto will follow."
As if on cue, the wind howled through the ancient trees. "The sky will darken and black lightning will strike as one appears steeped in the blood of August," Orphen warned, his voice barely carrying over the sudden, unnatural rumble of thunder.
Spyro the Dragon stepped forward, his horns lowered, a small flame flickering at the edge of his snout. Next to him, a tiny, glowing golden figure buzzed anxiously.
"Hold on, I think we found it," Spyro muttered, looking at a faint, sinister purple aura emanating from a stone altar hidden in the brush.
Sparx the dragonfly zipped frantically around Spyro's head. "Then can we not wake it up? 'Cause everyone we've met so far has tried to destroy us!"
Before Spyro could answer, the air grew freezing cold. The shadows around the altar elongated, twisting into grotesque shapes as a heavy, suffocating pressure fell over the forest. Gnasty Gnorc growled, raising his mace, while the other warriors braced themselves.
Suddenly, the wind died down to a dead silence, and a mysterious, echoing voice vibrated through the very earth beneath their feet:
"Expose your heart to summon ghost,
Then face alone what you fear most."
The cursed sword of Baltanders began to pulse, waiting for the first soul brave—or foolish—enough to step forward
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