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Ripples between the waves... that was the best they could do.
While an Aerai's mind could reach far for one of their own, it wasn't easy. It took time.
Little more than inclinations. Nothing truly coherent.
Only the most entuned could ever tell - and thankfully, by Astra's grace - they did.
And so a council of many came together.
Scout parties were sent, swiftly, by boot and wing, heralding upon their return exactly what had been feared.
While an Aerai's mind could reach far for one of their own, it wasn't easy. It took time.
Little more than inclinations. Nothing truly coherent.
Only the most entuned could ever tell - and thankfully, by Astra's grace - they did.
And so a council of many came together.
Scout parties were sent, swiftly, by boot and wing, heralding upon their return exactly what had been feared.
From far out in the dark, what could only be trebuchets or something of the like, great orbs of fire were hurled toward the city. Great magicians, masters of magic, channeled their strengths together to thwart the coming threat. It was revealed high above, swirling as a whirlwind of light. The monsters' fiery attacks struck against this light with great flashes and arcs across the sky, then fell to the ground in harmless, smouldering heaps.
Soon enough, the smell of burning flesh filled the air, and it became apparent what the projectiles being launched at them really were.
Upon the wall, Erën stood upon the battlements, donned in new armour, sword in either hand. One, curved and elegant, but dimmed by the other: fashioned of enchanted steel and crystal, burning with magic. Helm upon him, visor set, he peered out over the great flatland before the city. Their enemy's herald was a thickened fog, masking any approach, even to an Aerai's eyes. Upon the wall, on either side of him, warriors uncounted, of various sorts and many castes, all those who had answered their desperate plea.
Another great flash across the sky. Another sorcerer, fallen to their knees, their strength waned by the onslaught.
Erën cast a glance, and then returned once again unto poise.
It had been like this for hours. Each strike against them seemed to be another sorcerer that would be useless in the coming battle. And with each unsettling flash in the sky, those upon the walls and those beyond began to wonder. How long until those start to hit them? What then?
He drew in a deep breath, contemplating the monsters' newfound patience.
If what The Thirteen's scouts had said were true, and Arkhivom had indeed beaten them back here, then perhaps he had grown somewhat leery. Caliane had nearly bested him before, and if he knew she was here then...
He grinned.
"They feign their patience," he called out, "they are afraid of you. He..." he shouted, "is afraid of you!"
