The massive heap of shattered stone slabs from the completely destroyed temple gate lay in a chaotic mound, completely buried beneath an incredibly thick cloud of suffocating grey dust. Sharp, erratic sparks of orange fire crackled continuously from the burning iron fragments of the exploded artillery shell, casting a restless glow over the ruined entrance. Beneath the immense structural weight of the collapsed granite columns, the broken body of the wolf hybrid lay pinned against the freezing earth, surrounded by the heavy smell of scorched rock and spilled blood. Zeven squeezed his eyes shut as a sharp, blinding wave of physical agony rippled from his fractured ribs through his entire torso, his breath catching painfully within his throat. Far deeper than the physical trauma, an ancient,
