The storm that was building on the horizon was hinted at by the mist that covered the dawn of the final fight. On the ridge above the valley where their fates would be determined, Zara stood. The weight of all the lives connected to their cause was bearing down on her chest. Kael stood next to her, his blade shining in the early morning light, a testament to his determination.
Their forces gathered in tense quiet behind them. Working amid the ranks, Elara and Lyra provided last-minute tactics and a few encouraging whispers. With an intensity that defied his often sardonic manner, Doran, the mysterious guide who had turned into an odd comrade, was inspecting the perimeter.
"Do you believe we're prepared?" Zara's voice was scarcely audible above the growing wind when she questioned Kael.
Kael's mouth clenched. "This is our one chance, prepared or not. They are dangerous because of their pride, even if they are weaker than they think.
Zara nodded while holding onto her blade's hilt. She
