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the one emotion that had kept him going through all the cycles. Through all the torture, all the heartbreak, all the struggle, all the pain, it had been a steadfast companion urging him onward.

Hope.

The sense of failure dissolved as hope streamed from his body in a torrent of emotion. He rose up from his knees, rolling his shoulders back as he stood.

The glow that had surrounded him swelled outward, banishing the darkness that had covered him. His body was the tipping point; halting then turning back the shadow that had sought to smother him. The approaching warriors in black stopped, leaving a space of ten meters between him and the nearest warrior. The narrow confines of the bridge had forced their groups into two rows, four in the front, three in the back.

From both sides the Lei Guard let out a scream foreign to the lips of man. He’d heard the sound before, a wail that was forever ingrained into his mind.

The savage hatred.

The shrieks of the Outland Horde.

The monotone note of their blades screaming from their sheaths rang out, its high-pitched note slicing through their cries.

Ryl threw his head back as he screamed back in defiance.

“Come,” Ryl yelled into the sky.

The sound that poured from his lips was imbued with the strength and rage of the alexen that flowed through his veins. His hands fell to his sides. The wind swirled from his right arm, spreading out around his body. Caught by the swirling winds, the mist whipped around his body with the uninhibited force of a cyclone. Within a few meters of where he stood, the air was clear and still. The fog that had blanketed the surrounding area was sucked toward the vortex spreading outward from his body in a cylinder of white.

The Lei Guard on either side took a step forward, oblivious to the wind. Their vicious blades were eager for his blood.

A devilish smile tugged up at Ryl’s lips as his eyes caught a glimpse of the sight in the sky above.

The arching tail of smoke had started so high in the sky that it had gone unnoticed in the commotion. Ryl struggled as he pushed outward with the hope that held back the darkness. He needed their attention for only a few more moments.

The ball of flame grew rapidly as it plummeted downward. His eyes followed the fireball, his mindsight followed the approach of the Lei Guard. The cries of hatred from the Lei Guard approaching from Serrate morphed into those of warning and of fear as the burning comet raced toward their comrades on the opposite side of the bridge.

Warned by the cries of their companions, the Lei Guard between him and the forest split, some leaping forward toward Ryl, while others dove backward toward the bank. The stone bridge shook violently as the fireball detonated on impact. At the same time, Ryl spun to his left, falling to one knee, bracing himself against the force of the explosion. He turned his head, looking away from the blast, protecting his face with his arm. He focused on the woodskin, forming a crust along the entirety of his right side.

As he spun, he sent the wind and mist that had rotated around him outward in a pointed wave that raced like a scythe parallel to the ground. The Lei Guard between him and the forest had scattered; the four closest to him dove to avoid the blast. His wind lifted their off-balance bodies like they were fallen leaves dancing on the breeze. They flailed like ragdolls as they were hurled backward, pinned between his wind and the flames, shrapnel and shockwave from the blast. Their bodies were shredded to pieces as they were incinerated by the blast.

The heat from the explosion was intense, and Ryl felt it singe his skin. The stinging impact of shrapnel along his right side mixed with the wet slap of bloody chunks of burnt flesh. Closer to Serrate, the Lei Guard staggered as Ryl’s wind and the shockwave from the explosion combined with an unpredictable force.

Ryl let the speed flow through his body, and the world around him slowed to a crawl. Behind him, the arch of the bridge was in ruins, a hole nearly twenty meters wide severed it from the pillar where he stood. A large chunk of rock, beam and mortar fell carelessly toward the churning rapids of the river. On the bank, two of the remaining Lei Guard from that seven were staggering to their feet. One spewed a gout of blackened blood from its mouth, the other stumbled drunkenly. The third remained motionless, a large wedge of pointed rock protruding from its chest.

Ryl’s ears resounded with a single, high pitched note that thundered through his head. The note became a harmony as the whistle of arrows sang overhead. Ryl knew the song well. Kaep’s arrows tore through the hobbled Lei Guard, dropping them where they stumbled.

The Lei Guard closer to the village wailed with fury as their companions were cut down before them. The shock from the blast and the wind from Ryl's hand left them unbalanced, but still on their feet.

A volley of arrows streamed from the buildings lining the edge of the village. Kaep's bow sung its rapid song, while Ryl noted the sluggish shapes of the Vigil emerge from their hiding among the buildings along the river's edge as they fired on the staggered Lei Guard.

The three in the rear of their formation, closest to the city, took the brunt of the assault. Kaep felled two, while the third, wounded by a bolt to the leg blocked the rest with ease.

The door to the inn that sat on the corner of the main road burst open. The thick frame of Ramm sprinted forward—his speed shocked Ryl as he raced toward the bridge, his warhammer raised for a strike. Kaep tossed her bow, rushing forward in support as she pulled out her short, curved blades.

From the roof of the Inn, Vox sent

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