The cyclone shattered. What had once been an unstoppable wall of wings and wind disintegrated into a blizzard of feathers and blood. The lesser crows were torn apart in droves, their shrieks cut short as chains of blood dragged them screaming into nothingness.
The horrendous cacophony that had terrorized the sky suddenly broke apart into silence, abrupt and absolute. One heartbeat ago, the skies had thundered with shrieks and storms of wings, yet now only the wind remained, howling through the shredded forest and across the torn shoreline.
For the merfolk cowering beneath their wavering barrier, the change was unreal. They had braced for annihilation, their hearts drowning in despair, only to look up and find the impossible. Their executioners had been turned into a flesh heap.
