In a realm where magic had all but vanished, the small village of Eldertree lay nestled between ancient mountains. For centuries, its inhabitants whispered tales of the dragons that once ruled the skies, but now only the ruins of their majestic stone nests remained.
Arlen, a young farmer with dreams of adventure, had always felt a strange pull toward the mountains. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an eerie glow over the land, he noticed a faint glimmer atop the highest peak. Compelled by an inexplicable force, he set off towards the light, his heart pounding with both fear and excitement.
After a grueling climb, Arlen reached the summit to find a sight beyond imagination—a massive dragon, its scales a shimmering silver, lay dying. Its breath was shallow, and its once fierce eyes were clouded with sorrow. In its grasp, it held a single, glistening tear.
“Human,” the dragon’s voice rumbled, weak yet commanding. “You are the last hope of magic in this world.”
Arlen stood frozen, awe-struck. “What must I do?”
“Take this tear,” the dragon said, extending its claw. “It holds the last of the magic. Use it wisely, for with it, you can either restore the world or destroy it.”
Arlen hesitated, understanding the gravity of the decision before him. But in his heart, he knew what he must do. With trembling hands, he accepted the tear.
As the dragon breathed its last, the tear began to glow, flooding Arlen with power. The skies darkened, and for a moment, the world held its breath. Then, with a burst of light, magic was reborn.
Eldertree thrived, its crops flourishing, and its people rejuvenated. Arlen, now a guardian of the new age, ensured that the magic was used only for good. The tale of the last dragon’s tear became legend, a story passed down through generations, a reminder that even in the darkest times, hope can light the way.
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