First Strike

The air outside the cave felt sharper, colder, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of danger. A dark mist clung to the rocks, seeping out from the cave's jagged entrance like a living thing, as if the ritual within was already twisting the very fabric of the world. Demion gripped his sword tighter, his heart thudding in his chest with a rhythm that matched the intensity of the battle they were about to face. The shifters, fae, warlocks, and their other allies were positioned just behind him and Ariana, the tension rippling through their ranks like a coiled spring ready to snap.

With a glance, Demion gave the signal, and the first strike began.