The banners bled red against the sky.
Elara stood at the highest rampart of Nightfall, the wind tugging at her hair as the valley below filled with movement. Torches dotted the slopes like fallen stars, ranks of wolves advancing in disciplined silence. Bloodclaw colors led the charge Kael’s mark unmistakable while lesser packs followed behind, drawn by fear, ambition, or both.
War did not arrive roaring.
It came measured. Certain.
Draven’s presence settled beside her, solid and unyielding. Nightfall warriors lined the walls below, armor catching moonlight, eyes fixed forward. No one spoke. They all felt it the land tightening, the wards humming, the deep, ancient awareness turning its gaze toward the valley.
“They brought witnesses,” Elara said softly.
“Yes,” Draven replied. “And jud
