At first, it was only the soft flutter of a leaf. Then ten, then hundreds, until the air filled with faint whispers, as though the woods themselves exhaled.
Nysha froze. "They're here."
The first shadow appeared between two trees, thin as mist, its shape barely distinguishable from the darkness that birthed it. Then another. And another. Within seconds, the glade was surrounded.
Dozens of figures stepped from the blackwood, elves, but not like those of Lorienya. Their skin shimmered like polished hematite, their hair silver or white or tinged with faint, metallic color. Armor of living shadow clung to their bodies, flowing and shifting with each breath.
Their weapons, curved blades of translucent mana-steel, caught the dim light and split it into veins of violet and azure.
