Kaelen stood before his father and the battlefield around them was still trembling from the shockwave of his arrival. Smoke curled off his boots. His robes, soaked in potion residue and holy energy, fluttered with the pressure radiating from his body. Golden arcs of divine energy shimmered across his limbs, dancing like fire over oiled steel.
Derek coughed and pushed himself up, pain carved deep into his face. Blood matted the side of his hair. His sword-arm trembled not from fear, but from the exhaustion of dancing with death for far too long.
"Kaelen…"
"Save it," Kaelen cut in, pulling out his communication crystal and speaking into it sharply. "This is Kaelen. I need immediate evacuation of my father now. He's injured. Get him out of the forest. Now."
Static. Then a soft voice crackled through. "Roger. Support team en route. Teleport anchor set. Give us five seconds."
Derek tried to sit up. "Wait. I'm not leaving you here alone…"
