The sun drifted lower, slipping behind the distant hills like a dying ember losing its final breath. Its fading glow stretched across the plains in long, trembling streaks of gold, brushing the edges of the Sages' cloaks as they watched from their vantage point. The warmth that had lingered through the evening thinned with every passing moment, replaced by a slow, creeping chill that seeped into the earth and settled over the land like a quiet warning.
The sky darkened by degrees.
Orange softened into red. Red dimmed into violet. Violet bled into deepening blue, swallowing the horizon inch by inch.
Above the ruined kingdom, white and green lights still clashed in violent bursts, each collision bright enough to stain the sky for a heartbeat before fading into the growing darkness. The distant figures moved like warring stars, their auras tearing through the clouds with every strike, ripping open the sky with raw power.
The Sages stood in silence.
Eiden's eyes followed the drifting sun, the last sliver of light reflecting in his calm grey gaze. His cloak fluttered behind him as the wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of dust, smoke, and the lingering echo of destruction. The dying light outlined his silhouette in soft silver, giving him the stillness of a statue carved from dusk itself.
Selyndra rose from where she had been meditating, golden hair catching the final glow of daylight before the shadows swallowed it. Her expression tightened as the sky dimmed, as if she could feel the world holding its breath. The air around her pulsed faintly, responding to her presence with a quiet shimmer of magic.
Morvath planted one blade into the ground, leaning on it as he watched the horizon with the focus of a seasoned warrior. The fading sun cast a sharp line across his face, dividing light and shadow, revealing the tension in his jaw and the readiness in his stance.
Vaelus stood with his robe brushing against the grass, emerald eyes fixed on the sky. The dying light reflected in them like fractured glass, sharp and restless. His grip on his blade tightened with every passing second, the muscles in his arm twitching with the urge to move, to act, to do anything but wait.
Iris sat up fully, hugging her knees as her red cloak glowed faintly in the last warmth of the sun. Her gaze locked on the distant flashes of white and green. The shifting colors danced across her face, revealing a mixture of awe, fear, and something deeper — a quiet understanding of the scale of the battle unfolding before them.
Seraphaine's eyes were fixed on the sky, calm but distant, as if she were listening to something only she could hear. The fading light brushed her features with a soft, ethereal glow.
Dravien stopped pacing. His ears twitched toward the horizon, tail stilling as the world darkened around them. The restless energy that had driven him earlier faded into a tense, focused stillness. His eyes narrowed, tracking every flash of light in the sky with instinctive precision.
The sun slipped completely behind the hills.
The sky turned a deep, heavy blue, thick with the weight of approaching night.
The first stars flickered into existence.
And above the ruined kingdom, the battle only grew brighter — white and green lights tearing across the heavens like warring constellations, illuminating the darkening world with every violent clash.
Night was coming.
And the war between kings showed no sign of ending.