"When her hand dropped, the world would never be the same."
The Warland Valley was no longer a place — it was a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled.
Once, this land had held temples. Cities. Songs. Now, it held silence. And thousands of soldiers.
Above, the sky was the color of dried blood. Clouds churned with lightning that crackled violet and gold, like gods fighting beyond a curtain of storm.
Elysera sat tall atop her radiant elk-mount, its crystal antlers gleaming under the cursed sky. Her auburn braid danced in the wind. Her armor shone with spells of protection and pride. Her sword — Virelune — rested across her lap, whispering through its blade: ready.
She looked out across a world on the edge of war.
Behind her, the armies waited.
The Skyglass Shieldmaidens adjusted their crystal-etched helms. They tapped their shields in rhythmic pulses, forming mirrored phalanxes that turned sunlight into searing beams. Commander Alina whispered, "We hold. Then blind."
From the southern dunes, the Dunewind Riders emerged like illusions come alive. Cloaks billowing, mirage-lizards hissing beneath them. "They'll think we're shadows — until we bleed them."
Frostmark Archers knelt in frost-coated silence. Their bows were cold as grave-ice, their eyes colder.
Ironroot Dwarves chanted in thunder, pounding hammers into the ground. "Sing louder! The war gods must hear us!"
Stormreach Chaincallers passed electrified chains in circles, linking lightning like living sigils.
Fireveil Bladesingers spun flame like ribbon, tracing runes into the air with every motion.
Seaborn Warcallers rose from summoned pools, water-serpents spiraling around them.
Aeloria Windwitches hovered in silence, crescent spears spinning above their heads.
Greyhowl's Wolf Clans howled beneath the sky, white wolves snarling in rhythm with their war drums.
One by one, nine kings and queens lifted their blades.
And Elysera raised her hand.
Across the warfield — Dravaryn.
Flame-knights. Blood-sorcerers. Siege titans. Crawling bone towers.
Lord Varyn watched from a throne carried by ogres. His eyes didn't blink.
He pointed.
Elysera dropped her hand.
The sky broke.
Steel screamed. Magic ignited. The world burned.
Ironroot hammers cracked fire-knight armor.
Dunewind mirages confused enemy lines — then struck.
Skyglass shields refracted blinding beams.
Stormreach arcs of lightning cut through squads.
Seaborn tidal waves crashed into towers.
Fireveil flames danced across the battlefield, painting trails of death.
Frostmark arrows hailed from above, splitting the front line.
And above them all —
Lira stood.
She drew Selenthir, the Lunar Harp-Bow.
Whale bone. Moonlight string. Power older than language.
She whispered: "Ilunáe."
The arrow pulsed and split into seven beams.
The Dravaryn line exploded.
Lira fired again. And again. Each shot a prayer.
Below, Nyx was lightning unleashed.
Nirelle was a flood with a voice.
Elysera was a comet on the battlefield.
But the enemy was endless.
Thousands.
Then—
Lira stepped too far.
A silence rune activated.
Her bow dimmed.
Three assassins surrounded her.
The moon's daughter was alone.
Lira's breath caught in her throat.
The silence field wrapped around her like a noose. Her next arrow fizzled to mist. Selenthir shivered in her hands. Moonlight dimmed around her.
Three Dravaryn assassins — cloaked in ethereal shadow — stalked forward. One raised a curved dagger, its edge wreathed in black flame.
She turned, but her footing slipped on blood-soaked crystal. The first lunged.
And then—
Kade struck.
He came from above, daggers flashing. The assassin barely screamed before falling in two halves. Kade landed, sliding in front of her.
"Sorry I took so long," he said, breathless.
Lira's eyes widened, filling with tears. "You came back..."
"I never left," he murmured, pulling her up.
"I ruined everything."
"No. You saved me. That's what love does."
She dropped Selenthir, threw her arms around him, and kissed him.
Behind them, shadows stirred again.
Kade's orb-eye glowed white. Magic pulsed. In its reflection, five more Kades flickered into being — mirrored warriors sprinting into battle.
The second wave of Dravaryn broke over the battlefield like a black tide.
Siege beasts of bone and crystal thundered forward. Blood-fueled mages launched bolts that screamed through the air.
A Skyglass captain raised her shield to block a cursed blast. She held long enough to save her squad — and then turned to ash.
A Windwitch general flew into the heart of the skyfire — and shattered a siege engine with her own exploding spear.
The battlefield became a graveyard of gods.
Elysera charged again, Virelune cutting a path through madness.
Then came the cursed knight.
A tower of black steel, magic dripping from his gauntlets. Elysera struck — he blocked. He countered. She reeled.
Their blades clashed under the sickle moon.
She saw his dagger too late. It sliced into her side. Pain flared white-hot.
She staggered, fell to one knee.
A scream from the left — Nyx.
She flew across the battlefield, her stormblade tearing through steel.
The cursed knight raised his blade for a killing blow—
And Nyx drove her sword through his chest.
He crumbled.
But Elysera was bleeding. Badly.
The ground beneath her stained dark. Nirelle shouted. Kade turned.
The armies paused.
Thousands watched.
Their commander had fallen.
And the true war had only just begun.
To be continued ..