** Elara's pov**The cold stone tore into my bare knees, but I paid the stinging bite of the granite no mind. I hovered my bare palms a breath above the flagstones, closing my eyes and forcing the frantic, erratic beat of my heart to slow down. I blocked out the foul, metallic stench of the black sludge creeping towards my fingers and turned my focus entirely inward, sinking down into the quietest, deepest sanctuary of my spirit.Deep within my chest, my earth magic felt like a glowing hearth, warm, steady, and inextricably tied to the ancient, living roots of the mountain. But I couldn't cast a flare of power. I couldn't throw up a wall of bright light or weave a shimmering defensive ward, because the hollow, ravenous dark oozing from the fissures was waiting like a starved beast to devour every drop of active magic I released."Passive anchor," I instructed myself, the words repeating like a solemn chant in my mind. "Be the mountain, not the flame. Be the stone, not the spark."Inst
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