The vision shifted.
The Midlands lay broken beneath a rain of fire. Briar walls split apart. Paladins fell, wings torn from their backs, silver blood soaking the roots of ancient trees as the forest itself cried out in agony.
Lady Zinnia lay lifeless in her armor, chest caved in. Her sightless eyes fixed on the bleeding red sky as thorns shriveled and blossoms withered beneath her.
The Harbingers stood their ground, shadows roaring as they met the Wild Hunt head-on. One by one, they were unmade,their forms unraveling into smoke and ash as the riders passed through them.
No battle cries. No glory.
Only obliteration.
Vorak’s voice sank into her bones as she helplessly watched.“All who stand against me will fall.”
And then she saw Rune.
He stood at the center of the carnage, beaten and bloodied, torn wings spread wide, shadows flaring like a dying star. He fought as only he could, tearing through the ranks of the dead, roaring defiance into the Heavens as the Wild Hunt closed in around him.
Behind it all loomed a vast storm.
Formless. Endless. Devouring everything it touched.
“The pretender has seen his future, Lashar,”Vorak said.“And yet, he still chooses to face it.”
“No…” Alora choked.
Rune turned, as if he could see her. As if he needed one final glimpse.
“You died for him once. Now it is his turn.”
Then he burned away and crumbled to ash.
She shook her head, tears spilling.“No!”
Red light swallowed the vision as the Blood Moon rose, filling the mirror. From its center opened a single eye, slitted and unblinking, fixed upon her with terrible patience.
“I am the sovereign of the dark,”Vorak said, his voice ancient beyond counting.“The storm without end. Join me… or be lost within it.”
The glass exploded outward in a shriek of splintering crystal, shards slicing into the air and tearing into her skin.
Alora jolted awake with a scream.
Sweat beaded on her skin, breath torn from her chest. For a moment she could not tell what was real. The echo of that distorted voice still clung to her mind like smoke.
The chamber was dark. Silent.
Her gaze dropped to her hands.
Thin lines of blood welled along her palms where the shards had cut her. She stared at it, numb, as the skin knit itself back together before her eyes. Nothing remained but a cold ache and the mirror was intact.
Vorak’s reach was growing. How long until her dreams became reality?
Alora drew her knees to her chest as she silently wept.
The bond stirred.
Songbird,Rune’s voice brushed her mind, taut with concern.Are you all right?
She wiped her eyes and forced steadiness into her reply.Yes…The lie slipped out easily, softened by a sigh. She leaned her head against her knees, eyes burning.Only a nightmare.
