The wind howled through the shattered spires of the ruined citadel, carrying with it the scent of ash and something older—magic so potent it felt like a storm pressed against the skin. Altharion stood in the middle of the crumbling courtyard, his staff planted firmly in the ground, its crystalline head pulsing with threads of argent light.
Around him, the remnants of his forces prepared for the inevitable clash. Wards shimmered faintly over the broken stone, runes etched into the earth still smoking from his earlier incantations. The enemy was not here yet, but he could feel them—like the pressure before lightning strikes.
"Master, the outer barricades are gone," Kaelen reported, his voice ragged. The young mage's hands trembled as he tightened his grip on his wand. "We can't hold them much longer."
"You won't need to," Altharion replied, his tone calm despite the maelstrom building around them. "From here on, the battle is mine."
Kaelen opened his mouth to protest, but the weight of the magus's gaze silenced him. Altharion's eyes glowed faintly, silver light swirling in his irises. The ancient runes embroidered into his cloak seemed to ripple and shift, as if alive.
The air shifted.
The first wave came like a living tide—shadows spilling over the walls, their forms twisted and snarling. These were not mortal soldiers but wraithborn, creatures bound to the will of the Voidcaller. They moved with the speed of nightmares, their claws raking across stone and steel.
Altharion didn't move. Not yet.
Instead, he whispered a single word, and the courtyard exploded into light. A dome of blinding brilliance surged outward, reducing the first ranks of wraithborn to nothing but drifting motes. The survivors recoiled, screeching, as runes in the air flared and snapped like whips.
The storm had broken.
With a sweep of his staff, Altharion unleashed the Tempest Sigil—a spell forbidden in most circles for its destructive nature. Winds roared, lightning forked across the sky, and a vortex formed at the center of the courtyard, drawing the enemy into its crushing heart.
The enemy answered.
From the far end of the courtyard, a figure emerged—tall, robed in tatters, face hidden behind a mask of bone. The Voidcaller. Its voice was a whisper in a thousand tongues, each word peeling at the edges of sanity.
"Magus…" it hissed. "You cannot stop the unraveling. You are already part of it."
Altharion stepped forward, his staff striking the stone like a drumbeat. "I've stopped worse than you."
The duel began without warning. Shadows lashed out from the Voidcaller's hands, striking like spears. Altharion countered with shimmering barriers, each impact sending ripples of force through the air. The two titans moved with a speed that defied mortal sight—light and darkness clashing, the courtyard shaking with every exchange.
But this was not merely a battle of power. The Voidcaller sought to twist Altharion's mind, seeding visions of failure, whispering of betrayals long past. For a heartbeat, Altharion saw the faces of those he had failed—his students, his allies, even his brother.
He faltered.
A lance of shadow slipped past his defenses, searing into his side. Pain flared, sharp and cold.
The Voidcaller laughed. "You are weak, Magus."
Altharion gritted his teeth, pressing one bloodied hand to the wound. Weak? Perhaps. But he had learned long ago that true strength came not from being untouched—but from standing even when broken.
He shifted his stance, channeling every fragment of his will into the staff. The crystalline head blazed, brighter than the sun, and the storm above roared in answer.
"This ends now."
He drove the staff into the stone, and the Storm's Eye opened fully—a singularity of lightning and wind, drawing the Voidcaller toward it. The wraithborn screamed as they were torn apart, their forms scattering into shadow dust. The Voidcaller fought to resist, but the pull was inexorable.
With one final surge, Altharion unleashed the Binding Word, chaining the creature in arcs of pure light.
The mask cracked. The shadows shattered.
And for the first time, silence fell.