NARA
Grief
The wind howled louder, screaming like a beast caught between rage and fear. I felt it in my bones, a strange sensation of both heat and cold gnawing at me. Something passed between Aemilius and the leader of the empire forces—something too fast, too subtle for me to understand, but I knew it was powerful. The kind of power only the strong can sense. My father's hand drifted to the arakh at his side, his eyes narrowing. Beside him, the Keshik moved as one, a silent, loyal shadow. Behind them, the Karahk quickly took their places, ready for whatever storm was brewing.
And a storm there was.
It wasn't just in the air, though the sky above had begun to darken, clouds twisting in jagged spirals as though stirred by some unseen hand. The morning light, once bright and golden, seemed to recoil, retreating as if in fear. Shadows lengthened unnaturally fast, and night rushed in to claim the world, far earlier than it should.
