The dawn brought no warmth, only a pale, cold light that barely penetrated the heavy clouds gathering over Nightfang's stronghold. The air was thick with tension, the kind that often preceded a great storm—or a battle.
Lucian rose before the sun, his mind restless from the events of the previous day. Despite the preparations being made, something felt off. The Abyss was moving faster than expected, and time was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. He needed a plan, one that didn't rely on uncertain alliances or half-forgotten legends.
"Ready for another long day of fighting shadows and doubters?" Lyra's voice cut through the stillness as she approached.
Lucian turned, offering a faint smirk. "More like ready to drag an unwilling world into a war they don't want to fight."
Lyra crossed her arms, leaning against the stone wall beside him. "We'll find a way, Lucian. We always do."
Before he could respond, a messenger approached, breathless and pale. "My lord, urgent news—riders from Bloodspire and Silverfang have been spotted approaching the gates."
Lucian's brow furrowed. "Both at once? Interesting timing." He exchanged a look with Lyra. "Let's see what they want."
In the grand hall, tension was palpable as the delegations from Bloodspire and Silverfang entered. Draven led the Bloodspire contingent, his dark cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. Beside him was Lord Kael of Silverfang, a tall, imposing figure with silver hair and piercing blue eyes.
"Lucian," Draven began, his voice smooth but laced with amusement, "we heard whispers of nightspawn attacking your lands. Thought it polite to check on our… future ally."
Kael's expression was more serious. "And I came because the nightspawn have begun appearing near Silverfang as well. It seems the Abyss isn't content to remain a distant threat."
Lucian inclined his head, acknowledging both lords. "You're right. The Abyss is moving faster than expected, which is why we don't have time for games. Are you here to talk, or are you ready to stand with us?"
Draven chuckled, but there was no humor in his eyes. "Always so direct. Very well—I'll stand with Nightfang, but on one condition. When this is over, Bloodspire will be recognized as an equal, not a subordinate."
Kael nodded in agreement. "Silverfang seeks no dominance, only survival. If we are to unite, it must be as equals."
Lucian's eyes narrowed. He knew the danger of promising equality to lords who thrived on rivalry. But without their support, Nightfang would stand alone against a force far beyond their strength.
"Agreed," he said at last. "But know this—if any of you break this alliance for personal gain, it won't be the Abyss that destroys you. It'll be me."
The room fell silent, the weight of Lucian's words hanging heavy in the air. Draven's smirk faded slightly, while Kael gave a curt nod of respect.
"Very well," Draven said, his tone less mocking. "Nightfang leads. For now."
The following hours were spent in intense discussion. Battle plans were drawn, scouts were sent to monitor the movements of the nightspawn, and messages were dispatched to other clans, urging them to join the alliance.
As dusk approached, Lyra found Lucian alone in the war chamber, poring over an old map. "Still not satisfied?" she asked.
Lucian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We've bought ourselves some time, but it won't last. The Abyss will strike soon, and when it does, it'll be with more than just nightspawn."
Lyra hesitated before speaking. "There's something else, isn't there? Something you're not telling me."
Lucian didn't look up. "I've been having… visions. Glimpses of a figure in the shadows, watching, waiting. I don't know what it is, but it feels connected to the Abyss."
Lyra's expression hardened. "Then we'll find it. Whatever it is, we'll face it together."
Lucian finally met her gaze, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Lyra. For everything."
---
Night fell over Nightfang, and the stronghold was eerily quiet. Though the warriors stood ready, an air of unease lingered. Lucian stood atop the battlements, gazing out into the darkness.
Suddenly, a faint glow appeared on the horizon, growing brighter with each passing second. It wasn't the warm light of a distant fire—it was cold, pale, and unnatural.
"Lucian!" a guard called out, pointing toward the light. "Something's coming!"
Lucian's grip tightened on his sword as the glow approached, revealing a mass of shadowy figures moving with inhuman grace. At their center was a figure cloaked in darkness, its eyes glowing a malevolent crimson.
"The Abyss has sent its envoy," Lyra said, joining him.
Lucian's expression hardened. "Then let's show them they've made a mistake coming here.