Tempests of Blood
The night was thick with strain. The town, when a position of basic schedules and calm lives, had changed into a fortification overflowing with dread and assurance. Pit fires glinted in the open square, their light creating shocking shaded areas on the essences of the locals who had consented to stand and battle. Protection rung, weapons were honed, and murmured petitions to God lingered palpably, weighty with franticness.
Selene remained at the edge of the town, her eyes checking the skyline. The brilliant gleam of the sunset had blurred, supplanted by the profound indigo of night. However, this night felt unique — hazier, as though the actual stars were stowing away based on what was to come.
Behind her, the wolves paced, their developments fretful. The brilliant looked at alpha watched the sky, his tail washing through the soil. His pack remained nearby, quiet presence a steady sign of the fight ahead. They were partners now, however the delicate connection among man and monster could be broken with a solitary mix-up.
Mira drew closer, her face dismal. "The air feels wrong," she mumbled, her voice scarcely in excess of a murmur. "The haziness is close."
Selene gestured. She had felt it, as well. The crawling impression of something immense and pernicious squeezing in on them, fixing its grasp as time passes. It was like the very land itself was preparing for what was to come.
"Are they prepared?" Selene asked, turning her look back to the town.
Mira looked behind her, looking as Ronan penetrated the last couple of contenders, their wooden practice swords conflicting somewhere far off. "As prepared as they'll at any point be," she said delicately. "Yet, they're frightened."
"It would be ideal for they to be," Selene answered, her tone hard. "This isn't a battle we can stand to lose."
Mira read up her briefly, her eyes smart. "You've changed so a lot, Selene. Once in a while I keep thinking about whether you even see it yourself."
Selene didn't answer. She didn't have to. She had felt the progressions in her spirit — each fight, every choice had cut away bits of who she had been, leaving something more honed, more hazardous in its place.
The sound of strides drew closer, and Ronan showed up alongside them, his temple wrinkled in disappointment. "The locals are apprehensive," he said. "A big part of them actually have no faith in the wolves. The other half doesn't know they trust you."
Selene's jaw held. "They'll trust me when I give them something to put stock in."
Ronan gazed at her briefly, his dull eyes looking through hers. "I trust you, Selene," he said at long last, his voice low. "I generally have."
She got some distance from him, the heaviness of his words waiting in the air between them. There was no time for delicate quality at this point. Not when the tempest was going to break.
Unexpectedly, a cry split the evening — sharp and brimming with advance notice.
Selene twirled around, her heart hustling. The wolves were on alert, their passion raised, their eyes shining in the haziness. The brilliant peered toward alpha ventured forward, his look fixed not too far off.
**"They're here,"** he snarled, his voice a low thunder to her.
The town detonated into development. Yells rang out as the residents mixed to take their positions, grasping weapons with shudder hands. The wolves spread out, their structures converging with the shadows as they arranged for the fight to come.
Selene felt the dim energy ascending inside her, looping like a snake, prepared to strike. She had figured out how to control it, to involve it as a weapon, yet this evening would test the restrictions of her power. The dimness was calling to her, murmuring commitments of solidarity and obliteration. It would be so natural to set it free, to turn into what she dreaded most.
In any case, she proved unable. Not yet.
The main wave came all of a sudden.
Dull figures arose out of the trees, their structures wreathed in shadow. They moved like phantoms, quiet and quick, their eyes shining with unnatural light. The townspeople panted, their apprehension obvious, yet Selene ventured forward, her hand raised.
"Hang tight!" she yelled, her voice slicing through the mayhem.
Ronan was next to her in a moment, his sword drawn. "We need to hold them here. Assuming they get through — "
"They won't," Selene intruded on, her eyes bursting sincerely.
The principal animal thrusted at them, its paws outstretched, yet before it could contact her, a wolf jumped from the shadows, diving into the animal's throat. The battle was merciless, a haze of fur and paws, and when the wolf at last ventured back, the animal lay dead at its feet.
In any case, it was just the start.
More shadows poured from the trees, amassing toward the town with unnerving pace. The wolves figured out them, their growls filling the night as they attacked the haziness with savage accuracy. The residents battled courageously, their blades and lances blazing in the firelight, however the animals were constant.
Selene's heartbeat roared in her ears as she approached her power. The air around her gleamed with dull energy, and with a flick of her wrist, she sent a flood of power colliding with the closest gathering of shadows. They broke down on influence, their curved structures vanishing into smoke.
In any case, for each animal she annihilated, more appeared to have its spot.
"Selene!" Ronan yelled, his voice earnest.
She turned with perfect timing to see a huge shadow rushing toward her, its eyes igniting with noxious expectation. She didn't hold back. Lifting her hand, she released a deluge of dull enchantment, its power sending the animal colliding with the ground with a stunning thunder.
However, the expense was prompt.
Torment shot through her body, a singing sign of the dimness she conveyed inside. She staggered, her vision swimming briefly, however she constrained herself to remain upstanding. There was no time for shortcoming. Not at the present time.
The fight seethed on, a haze of savagery and bedlam. The town was an ocean of development, the conflict of steel and the cries of wolves mixing into a clamor of sound. Selene battled close by them, her power whirling around her like a tempest, yet she could feel the cost it was taking. The dimness was developing further, its hang on her fixing with each spell she cast.
And afterward, through the fog of fight, she saw it.
A figure remaining at the edge of the trees, watching.
It was tall and shrouded in shadow, highlights clouded by the dimness stuck to it like a subsequent skin. Yet, even from a good ways, Selene could feel the power emanating from it — chilly, old, and overpowering.
The head of the dimness.
Her heart beat in her chest as their eyes met across the front line. The figure didn't move, didn't talk, however she knew. It was hanging tight for her.
What's more, when the opportunity arrived, it would obliterate her.