The air quaked with fire.
Aldric's fury boiled over, his voice no longer words but roars of flame. His hands spread wide, and from the orbit of his will, burning orbs coalesced—compressed suns, miniature stars crammed into spheres the size of shields.
Their light scalded the eyes, their heat bent the very stones of the courtyard. One by one, they detonated outward, collapsing walls, vaporizing soldiers who strayed too near.
The palace groaned under the assault. Marble cracked, towers leaned, banners of Solaris turned instantly to ash.
Lan stood amidst the storm, motionless at first, like a figure untouched by the mortal law of destruction. Shadows swirled at his feet, a tide awaiting command. When the first blazing sun streaked toward him, he raised a single hand. Darkness bent, condensed into a rippling barrier that drank the flame whole.
