A shadow stirred above the destroyed chamber.
The remnants of the jagged chair clattered against burnt wood and what remained of the magical podium. Debris scattered across cracked stone, still smoking from whatever force had torn through the place.
He held an ethereal long staff, slanted across his frame as his gaze swept the devastation. Four pairs of ears crowned his head in perfect symmetry.
They twitched. Triangulating.
Distant and everywhere.
The noise of Elderglade reached him through the chaos—screams, crumbling stone, the thunder of collapsing towers. He moved without hesitation, floating through cracks in the castle walls. Slipping between gaps. Dodging falling debris with fluid grace.
Light burst around him.
Blinding.
Searing.
The light exploded. His eyes remained wide, unblinking, as he rose higher above the castle. His keen sight traced every corner of Elderglade below. Streets filled with fleeing citizens. Guards and adventurers shouting orders while fighting jagged, crystalline constructs.. Smoke rising from a dozen fires.
His forehead knotted.
The ethereal staff began to dissolve in his grip. Motes of white light spiraled away from the weapon, dancing through the air like luminous snow. The particles swirled faster, condensing and reshaping themselves.
First came the body—sleek Silverwood materializing from pure radiance. The light carved elegant curves, forming the violin's distinctive silhouette. F-holes appeared as twin crescents of shadow against the glowing surface. Four strings shimmered into existence, stretching taut across the bridge that emerged like morning frost.
The bow took shape in his other hand. White light wove itself into horsehair, strand by strand, while the wooden shaft solidified with a satisfying weight. The grip formed last, perfectly molded to his fingers.
He raised the instrument.
His posture shifted, transforming from warrior to artist in a single motion. Left shoulder lifting to cradle the violin's chin rest. His head tilted with practiced precision, jaw resting against the polished wood. His left hand found the neck, fingers hovering over the strings with centuries of muscle memory.
The bow settled against the strings.
Ready.
Poised.
Below him, Elderglade burned. Above him, storm clouds gathered like an audience waiting for the first note.
The first one whispered across the wind.
Slow.
Steady.
A gentle melody that seemed to breathe with the rhythm of a heartbeat. The sound drifted down from the figure hovering above the burning city, his bow gliding across the strings.
In the streets below, a guard clutched his bleeding arm as crystalline creatures pressed their attack. The wound began to close. Golden motes of light descended like warm rain, each particle carrying the violin's resonance. He flexed his fingers, watching in amazement as torn flesh knitted itself together.
"What—" he started, but his voice caught as the music swelled.
Across Elderglade, the transformation began.
An elf woman cradled her broken ribs against a collapsed wall. The notes found her, wrapping around her like a gentle embrace. Her bones shifted, realigned, the fractures sealing with each sustained phrase. She gasped, pressing her palm against her chest where moments before she could barely breathe.
At the arena, terrified elflings huddled in corners while their guardians fought desperately against the invading creatures. The children's sobs gradually quieted as the melody washed over them. Their trembling stopped. Wide eyes began to close as peace settled into their small hearts.
The violin's song continued to spread.
Healing.
Mending.
But the figure above was far from finished.
His posture shifted subtly, bow pressure increasing against the strings. The gentle melody began to build, gaining weight and purpose. Each note layered upon the last, creating harmonies that seemed to vibrate through stone and bone alike.
The golden light intensified.
Every elf touched by the music felt it—a warmth spreading through their limbs, their muscles gaining definition they'd never possessed. The guard who'd watched his arm heal now gripped his sword with newfound strength. His eyes sharpened, focusing on details he'd never noticed before.
"I can see their weak points," he whispered.
Throughout the city, similar revelations bloomed. Archers found their arms steadier, their aim truer. Mages felt mana flowing through them like rushing rivers instead of trickling streams. Warriors moved, their reflexes enhanced beyond mortal limits.
The crystalline creatures that had seemed unstoppable moments before now faced transformed opponents.
Above them, the mysterious figure drew his bow faster across the strings. The music shifted again, melody becoming rhythm. Punchy notes erupted from the violin in rapid succession, each one striking like a war drum.
Aggressive.
Relentless.
The effect was immediate.
The grotesque crystalline figures vibrated. Their translucent bodies shook from within, resonating with frequencies that made their essence unstable. Cracks appeared along their surfaces, spreading like spiderwebs through their forms.
"Now!" shouted the guard, his enhanced vision tracking every fissure in his opponent's structure.
Across Elderglade, the tide turned.
The elven blades now cut where they once slid across the hardened skin. The creatures that had driven the city to the brink of defeat now found themselves overwhelmed by opponents who moved like lightning.
The violin sang its fierce song above the battlefield, each note a weapon wielded by a master who understood the power of perfect timing.
And still, the figure played on.
His bow danced across the strings with impossible precision. Every movement below synchronized with his music—semiquavers cascading as an elf warrior's blade carved through crystal armor in rapid succession. Sautillé runs matched the lightning-quick footwork of defenders weaving between attacks.
A mage raised her staff, channeling enhanced power into a devastating spell. The figure's bow struck perfect chords, harmonizing with the magic as it erupted in brilliant flames. The creature shrieked, its form crackling and dissolving.
The music halted—a sharp rest in the measure. Instinct took over. An elf froze, twisting his body just as a crystal claw slashed through the empty air where his chest had been. Then, the downbeat hit. Driven by the sudden crescendo, he thrust his blade forward, shattering the enemy's exposed core.
Arpeggios flowed from the violin as coordinated strikes rained down on the remaining invaders. Each note built upon the last, creating a symphony of war where every participant moved in perfect harmony.
The music swelled.
Rose.
Commanded.
With each falling frozen enemy, the intensity shifted. The figure would pause, a breath of silence, then surge forward again with renewed vigor. Stop and go, like waves crashing against stone, each crescendo marking another victory until fewer and fewer crystalline forms remained standing.
The final creature staggered, its body riddled with cracks from the violin's relentless frequency. Around it, enhanced elves closed in, their movements still perfectly synchronized with the music above.
There was no need to think. No need to fear. Low hum? Brace. Sharp trill? Strike. The melody bypassed their conscious minds, turning a chaotic brawl into a choreographed dance.
One last sustained note rang through the air.
The creature shattered completely, crystal fragments scattering across blood-stained stone.
Silence fell over Elderglade.
The figure lowered his violin slowly, bow coming to rest at his side. Below, exhausted but victorious elves stood among the remnants of their enemies, golden light still fading from their enhanced forms.
A perfect ending.