Dawn broke over Ravenspire, but it was no ordinary sunrise.
The light filtered through trees like molten silver and faint stardust. Every leaf, every blade of grass seemed to shimmer, responding subtly to the tether now woven through the Moonmarked.
Rovan stood at the ridge, shoulders tense, eyes scanning the horizon. The shadow of the void-wolf still lingered inside him, integrated but alive — a constant reminder that balance was hard-earned, not permanent.
Aric emerged from the training yard, his starfire glowing faintly beneath his skin, lighting the path in soft pulses. “They’re coming,” he said, voice low but firm.
Rovan’s gaze followed his finger southward. In the distance, human forces moved deliberately, not in panic this time, but in coordination. Machines of war, yes, but mor
