He opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could leave, a voice cut through the air deep, solemn, and impossible to place.
It echoed from the jagged slopes, carrying over the snow-dusted mountains and into the ruins of the battlefield. The sound seemed to come from everywhere at once, seeping through the cracked stones and broken banners that still clung to the wind.
"All the mages who are still alive and able to walk," the voice called, "please gather at the war preparation ground."
Ren lifted his head, the wind tugging at his torn cloak. Around him, the surviving mages stirred, their eyes heavy, their movements slow, as though each step pressed against the weight of what they had seen.
"We have observed silence for all the brave mages who have been martyred," the voice continued. The words rolled through the mountains like distant thunder, brushing against the shattered watchtowers and the scorched soil where the battle had burned itself out.
