The night passed softly, and by early morning they were already on the move again as the attack against the Mana-Devouring Beasts began.
Azar stepped into battle once more, his heart heavy. In his palm, he held the pendant Oru had given him. The carved surface was rough, and inside the small crystal embedded within it was the faint image of a little girl smiling.
He tightened his grip for a moment… then let it rest against his palm as he moved forward.
He watched as Oru and the rest advanced ahead as the vanguard. Azar, as usual, was placed in a protected formation, dozens of Magi forming a loose circle around him while the rest scattered across the battlefield.
The wind swept over the battlefield, carrying a coldness that did not belong to the season.
Above them, the sky darkened.
Today was supposed to be a windy day, but the clouds that gathered overhead were unnatural. Thick and heavy, they rolled across the sky like a suffocating blanket.
The Magi could feel it.
