The stars barely managed to pierce through the mantle of shadows covering the sky, and the air was thick with a palpable tension, as if the world itself was holding its breath. In the castle, Elysiel tossed and turned restlessly in her bed, her mind trapped in a whirlwind of dreams and nightmares that intertwined in a confusing and terrifying manner.
She found herself in a vast battlefield, where the colors of the sky were a blend of reds and purples, as if the very heavens were bleeding. Around her, the sound of thunder echoed, but there was no rain. The black clouds swirled like a living storm, and on the horizon, Elandor was aflame. The ancient trees burned, and the ground cracked open, revealing deep fissures that extended down into the depths of the underworld.
