The enclave was attacked in the dead of night. A group of assassins, sent by the Ascendants, infiltrated the canyon. They moved like shadows, their blades cutting down rebels before the alarm could be raised.
Azaelith awoke to the sounds of battle. She grabbed her weapon and rushed into the fray, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination.
The assassins were skilled, their movements precise and deadly. But Azaelith was no longer the broken girl she had once been. She fought with the strength of the Devil's Mark, her red eyes blazing as she cut through her enemies.
By dawn, the battle was over. The rebels had suffered heavy losses, but they had managed to repel the attackers.
Lysara approached Azaelith, her expression grim. "The Ascendants know where we are," she said. "We can't stay here."
Azaelith nodded. "Then we'll take the fight to them."