The trek to the Abyss of Ruin grew harsher, the air thick with the Toxinheart’s sickly pulse. Grendolf, Sylvara, Kaelith, and Myra moved silently, their cursed hybrid forms—cat ears atop human-like skin—clad in rune-stitched garments. Starclaw glowed in Grendolf’s grip, its evolved powers (Starstrike, Foresight Veil, Blade Dance) humming with celestial energy. Bloodfang and Sunfang cast their crimson and golden lights, while Kaelith’s claw gleamed with defiance. The Shadow Knight’s origins lingered in Grendolf’s mind, but a deeper question burned: the Blades of Prowl themselves. Where had Starclaw, Bloodfang, Sunfang, and Eclipse come from?

As they camped in a crumbling Starwarden shrine, its walls etched with fading runes, Grendolf’s spirit-enhanced vision surged. The spirit that had gifted his powers appeared, its starry eyes piercing the gloom. “To face the Shroud, know the blades’ birth,” it whispered, pulling Grendolf into a vision of Felaria’s ancient past.

Millennia ago, when Felaria was a primal wilderness, the Stars wept molten metal during a celestial alignment. The First Cats, ancestors of the Cat Warriors, found these fragments—star-metal, pulsing with divine energy. Guided by visions, they built the Great Forge, a sacred crucible deep in the Starlit Peaks. The First Starwarden, Aelthar, a silver-furred mystic, communed with the Stars, learning their will: craft blades to protect Felaria from corruption.

Starclaw was forged first, its azure glow born from the brightest star’s tear. Aelthar imbued it with foresight, binding it to a chosen bloodline—Grendolf’s ancestors—to guide Felaria’s future. Its runes, etched by starlight, granted visions and precision, a beacon against chaos.

Bloodfang followed, forged from a red comet’s shard. Crafted for Aelthar’s sister, Vrynna, a swift scout, its crimson edge was infused with speed, its runes pulsing to enhance agility. Vrynna’s descendants, like Sylvara, inherited its legacy, their strikes a blur against enemies.

Sunfang came next, born from a golden meteor’s heart. Forged for Korrath, a warrior of unmatched strength, its radiant blade burned with celestial fire, its runes amplifying power. Korrath’s line, including Lioness, carried its fiery might, though betrayal tainted its honor.

Eclipse, the Shadow Knight’s blade, was the last, forged from a dark star’s fragment. Aelthar crafted it for Vesper, his most loyal blade-master, weaving shadow-metal with runes of stealth and silence. It granted invisibility, but its curse bound Vesper’s soul, creating the eternal Shadow Knight.

The vision shifted, revealing the blades’ purpose: to counter the Toxinheart, a blight born from a fallen star, corrupted by Felaria’s depths. The Order of the Blight later stole Duskfang, a rogue blade forged in secret by a traitor Starwarden, its black glow a mockery of the others. The Blades of Prowl were Felaria’s shield, their origins tied to the Stars’ will to preserve balance.

Grendolf awoke, Starclaw flaring as he shared the vision. Sylvara gripped Bloodfang, her eyes fierce. “Our blades were born for this fight. The Shroud won’t twist their purpose.”

Kaelith, its claw flexing, nodded. “Duskfang’s corruption proves the Order’s greed. We destroy it, we honor the Stars.”

Myra, clutching her dagger, whispered, “The Stars made you a hero, Grendolf.”

Lioness, her guilt heavy, touched Sunfang. “I betrayed their legacy. I’ll redeem it.”

The shrine’s runes glowed faintly, echoing the blades’ origins. Grendolf stood, Starclaw’s azure light a beacon. The Abyss awaited, the Toxinheart’s corruption a threat to the blades’ sacred purpose. With their origins clear, the group’s resolve hardened. The war with the Canids and the Shroud’s schemes loomed, but the Blades of Prowl—forged by starlight, bound by destiny—would light the path to victory.