The winds were beginning to change.
Sylas stood at the edge of the cliff, his eyes scanning the horizon, his thoughts heavy with the weight of what was coming. In the distance, the sky had darkened, the once vibrant clouds now swirling with a foreboding hue. There was a tension in the air, as if the world itself was bracing for the impact of something powerful and dangerous.
Beside him, Alira stood with her usual quiet resolve. Her expression was hard to read, but Sylas knew her well enough to understand the inner turmoil she was battling. They had just come from the ruins of the Heart, and the victory that had seemed so certain moments ago now felt fragile in the face of this new threat.
"We've barely had time to breathe," Alira said, her voice breaking the silence. "And now this…"
Sylas nodded grimly. "I know. But we can't ignore it. The Keepers of the Void—whatever they are—won't stop until they've finished what they started."
"Do you think they're really this powerful?" Alira asked, her gaze still locked on the horizon. "It's hard to believe that they could be so far-reaching, so patient."
"They are." Sylas's voice was low, filled with certainty. "They were the ones who set the stage for the Heart's corruption in the first place. They're ancient. And now, it seems, they've come to claim what's theirs. We've been buying time, but the storm is upon us now."
A deep silence settled between them as the winds picked up, swirling around them like a living thing. Sylas's thoughts turned inward, searching for any possible way to stop the coming tide. They had won battles—yes—but had they truly won the war? He was beginning to doubt it.
Alira broke his reverie. "We need to rally the others. The forces we've gathered, the allies we've made... If we stand any chance against them, it will be with strength in numbers."
Sylas looked at her, seeing the determination in her eyes. She was right. Alone, they could not face the Keepers of the Void. This would be a battle unlike any they had fought before, a battle that would require every ounce of power, strategy, and resolve they could muster.
"I'll send word to the others," he said. "We need to regroup, plan our next move."
Before he could take another step, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw a dark shape descending from the skies, a figure cloaked in shadows, its form barely discernible against the growing storm.
Alira's hand moved to the hilt of her sword, her muscles tensing in anticipation. Sylas was already stepping forward, his instincts screaming that this was not just another passing danger—it was something more.
The figure landed with a soft thud, the ground beneath them trembling with the force of its presence. Sylas and Alira both froze, eyes narrowing as the figure straightened, revealing a tall, imposing figure cloaked in midnight robes, the fabric swirling with the winds.
"I did not expect to find you here, Sylas," the figure spoke, its voice cold and echoing in the tense air.
Sylas's hand tightened around his sword's hilt. "And I didn't expect you to be so bold as to show yourself. Who are you?"
The figure's face was obscured by the hood, but the aura of power around it was unmistakable. It was not the storm itself that made Sylas uneasy—it was the energy this figure exuded, ancient and chilling.
"I am Ashael, the Voice of the Void," the figure said. "I have come to deliver a message... and a warning."
Alira stepped forward, her sword now fully drawn. "You can keep your messages and warnings to yourself. We're not interested."
Ashael tilted his head, as though considering her words. "You misunderstand. You have no choice but to listen. The Keepers of the Void will not be denied. The balance you've so carefully woven will be undone. And when it is… the true war will begin."
Sylas felt a chill run through him. He had suspected that the Keepers were not simply concerned with the Heart—they were after something far more profound. Their war wasn't just about the Heart, or even the balance of magic. It was about rewriting the world itself.
"I won't let that happen," Sylas said firmly, his gaze locked on Ashael. "I'll stop you."
Ashael's lips curled into a slight, mocking smile. "You've already lost, Sylas. This is merely the beginning. The storm is already gathering, and soon, you will feel its full force."
Before Sylas could respond, Ashael raised a hand, and the ground beneath their feet trembled violently. The winds howled, and a dark energy surged through the air. Sylas barely had time to react before the figure vanished into the storm, leaving behind a lingering sense of dread.
"We need to move," Alira said urgently, her expression grim. "Now."
Sylas nodded, though his mind was racing. The storm was no longer just a metaphor. It was real—and it was coming for them.
As they moved swiftly toward their next destination, Sylas knew one thing for certain: this was only the beginning. They had awoken something ancient, something vast and dark. And the Keepers of the Void were determined to see their work completed.
The Gathering Storm had begun.