Sylra edged closer to Alex, her lips tightening as she leaned in to read the tattered banner he clutched in the ravaged market square of Starhaven, the evening's starlight casting jagged shadows across the debris.
The air carried a harsh tang of ash, the moans of injured elves weaving through the night, the deep trench in the road a blackened wound, shattered stalls and crumbled buildings stark in the aftermath of the explosion.
Alex's red eyes traced the bold words "Eclipse: the change is now" a shiver rippling through him, the message's weight pressing like a cold hand, its intent shadowy but ominous.
Sylra's face hardened, anger flashing as she snatched the banner, ripping it from the wall with a sharp tear, her voice low, seething.
"I should've known it was them," she said, her tone thick with disgust, crumpling the fabric in her fist. "Those miscreants."
Her words burned with contempt, her posture rigid, the market's chaos a grim stage for her fury.
