The storm thickened, swallowing flame and smoke alike. Ashbound torches sputtered, Emberkin shields cracked under the weight of grief.
Marlic advanced, spear blazing with shadow. Every strike tore through the alliance's defenses, scattering warriors like leaves in a gale. His laughter echoed, cruel and unbroken.
"You thought unity would save you? You thought memory would shield you? I am grief itself. I am betrayal. And I will grind your dawn into ash."
Kael lunged, blade flashing, but Marlic's spear struck with crushing force. Kael staggered, blood on his lips, the line faltering.
Elira raised her crown, fire and smoke entwining, but Marlic's storm resonated with it, twisting its flame into shadow. The crown flickered unstable, its power bending toward him.
Elira gasped, visions tearing through her mind—faces of the fallen turning away, voices of despair drowning hope. For a moment, the crown itself betrayed her.
Marlic's ember eyes blazed brighter. "Even your memory bends to me. Even your grief is mine."
The valley trembled, the alliance faltering. For the first time, it seemed dawn itself might shatter.