The Turning Tide

The battlefield was chaos. Magic clashed against steel, sending sparks into the night sky. Evelyn gritted her teeth as she deflected a dark bolt of energy with a flick of her wrist, her flames retaliating against the shadowy figures advancing upon them.

Kael stood beside her, his blade slicing through the enemy ranks with deadly precision. "We can't hold this position forever," he shouted over the din of battle.

Lysara's voice crackled through the communication stone. "The western flank is holding, but barely. If we don't reinforce them soon, they'll be overwhelmed."

Evelyn made a swift decision. "Kael, take a unit and push toward the western front. We need to break their momentum."

He gave her a firm nod before dashing off into the fray, his golden eyes alight with determination. Evelyn turned her attention to the cloaked figures, their dark magic warping the very air around them.

"You," one of them sneered, stepping forward. "The child of prophecy."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. "And you're just another obstacle in my way."

The figure lunged, dark tendrils of energy whipping toward her. Evelyn summoned her flames, a bright inferno swallowing the attack before she countered with a blast of fire. The impact sent the enemy staggering, but more took their place.

From the fortress, a horn sounded—a signal of reinforcements. The tide of battle was shifting, but Evelyn knew this was only the beginning of a far greater war.