The wind howled across the barren land, carrying the scent of ash and decay. My steps felt heavy as I crossed the ridge that overlooked what remained of my home—the Silver Moon Pack. The land stretched out below, no longer the lush, vibrant place it had once been. It had become a wasteland, drained of life, twisted and corrupted by the very magic I had once known to nurture.
Three years. Three years of endless training, learning how to master the magic that ran through my veins. Three years of isolation, of preparing myself for this moment—for the reckoning I knew was coming. But nothing could prepare me for the sight that awaited me. Nothing could prepare me for the wave of sorrow that crashed over me as I looked down on the place I had once called home.
The trees, once towering and str
