The sky darkened as Darian stood on the ramparts of Ethryndor's eastern gate, watching the swirling mass of shadows creeping closer. His heart pounded in his chest, but he steadied his breath, gripping his sword tightly. Elira was beside him, her eyes scanning the distance. Behind them, the city prepared for battle.
"They're almost here," Elira muttered, glancing at Darian. "Are you ready?"
Darian nodded, though the truth was, he didn't feel ready. The Shadow Weaver's minions were unlike anything he had faced before—creatures born from darkness, powerful and relentless. But he couldn't let fear control him.
"Stay sharp," Elira said. "We've trained for this."
Darian felt the warmth of the First Flame stir within him, a comforting presence that reminded him of his strength. "I won't let them take Ethryndor," he said, his voice filled with determination.
The first wave of dark figures came into view, winged creatures flying just above the tree line. Their wings were tattered, and their bodies seemed to be made of shadow itself, twisting and writhing as they flew.
"Ready the archers!" Darian shouted, raising his sword high. He could hear the creak of bowstrings being drawn back behind him.
The creatures swooped down, their screeches piercing the air. Darian's heart raced as they grew closer. He glanced at Elira, who nodded firmly. Together, they would stand against the darkness.
"Now!" Darian commanded.
A volley of arrows shot into the sky, striking the first wave of creatures. Several of them fell from the sky, dissolving into black mist as they hit the ground. But more followed, their numbers seemingly endless.
"Here they come!" Elira yelled, drawing her staff.
Darian ignited his sword with the First Flame, its fiery glow cutting through the growing darkness. The creatures descended upon them, clawing at the walls, screeching as they met the defenders' swords and arrows.
With a swift movement, Darian slashed through the nearest creature, his flaming sword searing through its shadowy form. The creature screeched and vanished in a puff of smoke. Darian spun around, cutting down another one as it lunged toward him.
Elira was at his side, casting bolts of magic that sent the creatures flying back. Her eyes glowed with the energy she wielded, and her movements were precise, each spell hitting its mark.
More creatures swarmed the gates, and the defenders fought valiantly, but Darian could see the exhaustion in their faces. They were holding their ground, but for how long?
"We can't keep this up forever!" Elira shouted, blasting another creature with a burst of light.
Darian's mind raced. They needed something more—something that could turn the tide of the battle. He looked down at his sword, the First Flame burning brightly along the blade. The power within him surged, and he realized what he had to do.
"Elira, I need you to cover me!" Darian yelled over the sounds of battle.
"What are you planning?" she asked, her brow furrowing.
"I'm going to try something," he replied. "Just keep them off me for a minute."
Elira gave him a determined nod. "Do what you have to."
Darian stepped back from the fray, closing his eyes and focusing on the flame within him. He could feel its warmth, its power waiting to be unleashed. Taking a deep breath, he raised his sword to the sky.
The First Flame flared to life, brighter than ever before. The heat radiated from Darian, and the air around him shimmered. He could feel the flame responding to his will, growing stronger as he poured his energy into it.
"Now!" he shouted, thrusting his sword forward.
A wave of fire erupted from the blade, roaring across the battlefield. The creatures shrieked as the flames engulfed them, burning away their shadows and leaving nothing but ash in their wake. The defenders of Ethryndor watched in awe as the fire swept across the battlefield, pushing the enemy back.
The tide had turned.
Elira's eyes widened in surprise as she watched the flames clear the area. "Darian, that was—"
Before she could finish, a deafening roar echoed from the distance. Darian's heart sank as he looked toward the horizon. A massive shadow loomed in the distance, much larger than the creatures they had been fighting. Its eyes glowed with a malevolent light, and its wings stretched wide, casting a dark pall over the land.
"The Shadow Weaver," Elira whispered, her voice trembling.
Darian's grip tightened on his sword. This was it—the moment they had been dreading. The true battle was about to begin.
"We're not done yet," Darian said, his voice steady despite the fear creeping into his chest.
The Shadow Weaver hovered in the distance, its presence suffocating. Darian could feel the darkness pressing against him, but he stood firm. He had the First Flame. He had his friends. Together, they would face this evil and protect their home.
As the Shadow Weaver began its slow approach, Darian's eyes narrowed. The real fight was just beginning.