Two years ago, Illium experienced one of the worst seasons of torrential downpours Hal had ever witnessed. On the islands, storms and heavy rains were always expected. The regular cycle informed their harvest seasons. But this particular year, the rain that had started as it always did just suddenly…never stopped. Day after day, hour after hour, Hal saw nothing but dark skies, heard nothing but heavy winds, and felt nothing but the warm, sharp sting of the rain on her skin.

She didn't mind at first: the first rain was one of the longest breaks the villagers were often afforded that didn't come at the expense of their health, like heat waves. Not to mention Hal found the rain soothing, hypnotic as she would sketch in her room or play with the children in the growing mud puddles (much to their parents' chagrin when she brought them home later). But this time, the rain never seemed to let up. A week became two, Hal quietly counting the days in her head as she and Denu began to whisper with growing concern.

In the end, it rained for five and forty days. And during that time, Hal wound up working with Amon, Eli, Cado, Sam, and Ayo to lead the villagers in widening the quickly flooding river and creating makeshift banks where necessary. It had been grueling work, especially since even the light during the day was dimmed by the dark skies. There was some crop loss but, overall, disaster had been avoided.

Now, as Hal lay crouched in an abandoned house with the rain battering around her, she could not help but think back to that day in wonderment. How different her life had seemed then, worrying only for the village and her people. To be completely oblivious as to how her life would change in just another year. Looking up to the ever-present rainclouds and thinking that was one of the most miraculous and stressful moments of her adult life.

The unfortunate irony of her past self's ignorance almost made her laugh with derision. But now was not the time to mock the girl she was once before when Hal knew she needed that girl's strength and fortitude now more than she had then.

"Still no signal," Albriech muttered in a low voice. His words were almost impossible to discern over the sound of the rain pounding on the rooftops, the occasional clap of thunder emphasizing the tense mood. Hal could not see the other soldiers who, like her and Albriech, were hiding and waiting in secret to see what Thea and the Ra'zac might do next.

"Is it too much to hope that Roran assumed wrong and the attack really is over?"

Hal's tone was clearly joking, and Albriech cracked a small smile. "If only it were that easy, Miss Halen."

If only indeed.

"I'm sure the Ra'zac anticipated we would try something," he continued, as if to assure her. "If you ask me, it's gonna come down to a game of patience."

Fortunately, Hal had experience in games of patience. Often a good hunt was simply waiting around quietly for the right moment to strike. And that's more or less what she had proposed to the soldiers when it became apparent that they would have to approach the presumed second wave of attack with more strategy. If they were caught unaware again, the city would surely fall.

Ilirea seemed to collectively hold its breath for an indiscernible amount of time. It was so dark outside that it seemed closer to nighttime than the early afternoon. Every so often, Hal would carefully open her mind to keep a watch out for members of the Black Hand, but they were equally quiet, and she feared exposing herself longer than necessary.

Finally, Albriech peered out the window and breathed. "There's the signal. Ra'zac, like you expected."

Hal steadied herself, suppressing the instinctive surge of panic she felt at the thought of the approaching fight. She liked being right, but this was an instance where it didn't feel as good as it normally would. Their numbers were expendable for Thea. But if her plan did indeed have something to do with magic, then it was likely that she needed the Black Hand members alive and in good enough condition to perform whatever spell she deemed necessary.

She barely heard the wings of the Lethrblaka over the incessant wind and rain as the first beast approached. Its claws scraped against whatever rooftop it had landed on before it's piercing scream shattered through all other sound. Hal clapped her hands over ears, unable to suppress the low whimper of pain, the sound seemingly heightened with her sharp ears. Albriech looked equally aggrieved, his jaw tight as they both crouched over. In a few more seconds, the glass on the other nearby window cracked before exploding, and Hal felt like her head was close to doing the same before the screams finally ended.

The stillness that washed over the city was palpable. Even Hal felt frozen for a moment, the sound so petrifying that the thought of confronting the beast capable of producing such fear seemed mad. The top of her hands sustained minor cuts from the shattered window, and Hal carefully brushed the pieces off her head before turning to peer out the window.

No one moved and, for a moment, Hal feared that the plan had already failed. She could not blame the men, only herself for bringing this horror upon them. But she silently watched and begged for something. Anything. The Lethrblaka was out of her line of sight, and she could not defeat it unless they managed to follow through with their plan.

At least, she hoped she could defeat it.

Just then, the creature screamed again, the sound more targeted and aware than the first, which had felt simply like a threat of what was to come. In response, she heard a frightened yelp of panic and felt her heart drop while her breath caught. Moving quickly, she yanked out a used arrowhead, ignoring the dried blood on the tip, and nocked it. It was difficult, trying to keep her body angled so that she was not spotted through the window. Across the way, she knew Baldor was doing the same. The two top archers of the soldiers that remained. They could not miss their shots.

Just as planned, a small group of men came riding down the cobbled path, their eyes glancing up towards the sky as a familiar and looming shadow passed overhead. They had their horses stall right where Hal had told them, luring the creature closer. Their horses whined nervously, but did not flee. It was a marvel that they hadn't been spooked at the first cry from the Lethrblaka.

"Come on," Hal muttered, desperate. "Come on, you flying bastard."

Hal tightened her hold on her arrow moments before the creature appeared. Despite the speeds at which it moved to try and claim its fleeing pray, Hal saw its movements as if they were slowed. The men serving as the bait spurred their horses forward just as the Lethrblaka touched down, missing them by what looked like inches. She exhaled slowly, taking less than a fraction of a second to mark her target before releasing her arrow, timing it carefully so she did not miss her shot completely.

The arrowhead found its mark, burrowing itself deep into the creature's eye. The Lethrblaka reared back and released another shriek, this one of pain and fury. And Hal was relieved to see that Baldor's arrow was also sticking out of the other eye. The beast was completely blinded. The Ra'zac on its back shrieked in warning and Hal knew it was now or never.

"NOW!" Hal shouted, diving out of the way with no hesitation. The men who had heroically led the charge as the distraction wasted no time and turned to hurl their rope around the Lethrblaka's neck. Using all their strength, they yanked the beast back down and Albriech sprung out of hiding with a ferocious cry, yanking his sword free.

Hal jumped out the window after him, firing another arrow at the Ra'zac that had leapt down to defend the Lethrblaka from the ambush. She was instantly soaked by the heavy downpour, a chill unlike anything she had ever felt making her limbs clench as if to brace against the cold. She had a brief moment of panic, fearing she might slip on the slick ground but pushed forward regardless. Covering Albriech so that he could focus, Hal engaged the Ra'zac in close combat as Albriech swung his sword down on the Lethrblaka's neck, hacking ruthlessly and repeatedly until he sliced it clean off.

The Ra'zac cut at her cheek, her wards protecting her while her blade was too slow. She had lost count as to the number of times Murtagh's wards had saved her life and knew he would never let her hear the end of it despite the fuss she had made putting them on her.

"Hal duck!"

She did without question at Baldor's command just as an arrow went flying into the Ra'zac's chest. It howled in pain and Hal quickly silenced it with a final stroke across its neck.

"They're coming!" Someone shouted in warning.

Sure enough, the other Ra'zac had come running at the sound of one of their own in distress. But they had been fortunate that there had been enough of a lag between the first lookout and the rest, as taking down one of the Lethrblaka would go a long way in sparing their numbers. But it looked like this was the only chance they would get to catch their breath now.

"All right men, just as we planned!" shouted Roran, coming out of his own hiding spot with armed troops ready for battle behind him. "Defend your people! Defend your city! Defend your queen! To me, soldiers! To me!"

Passioned roars answered his call, Hal's among them. The plan was to wait for the Ra'zac to get close before the other soldiers stepped out from their various hiding spots in an attempt to surround them. The strategy Hal and Roran had tried to devise had been one of surprise and force, just like what the Ra'zac had done to them. Maintain a sense of form and control and maybe, just maybe, they could hold out until help arrived.

But their cries were quickly cut off by the second Lethrblaka diving towards them, screeching in an attempt to wrest control away. The men continued to run forward without breaking formation, but Hal could see how they glanced up in fright. Hal didn't stop to think, returning the hand-and-a-half sword to her waist before pushing out at full speed, taking a running leap towards a pile of debris. She leapt up, moving with an unnatural quickness as she hurled herself up, reaching for the roof of the nearby building. Pulling herself on top, she ran forward as she pulled out another arrow and aimed quickly.

Her movement managed to temporarily distract the Lethrblaka, and she fired before she lost her opening. However, she was forced into a rushed tuck and roll as another Ra'zac appeared to her left, slashing at her head. The arrow only managed to clip the Lethrblaka's wing, but it caused enough pain that the creature instinctively pulled back, sparing the soldiers who clashed with the remaining Ra'zac on the ground with ferocious cries.

With the support of the soldiers from Dras-Leona, and proper preparation for this wave of attack, the soldiers seemed to have a new ferocity about them that Hal quickly picked up on. Gone was the chaos and confusion from before. Now they were left with determination and fury. They would drive out the Ra'zac and all enemies by any means necessary. Hal knew these men would die here and now if it meant victory.

Shivering under her leathers, Hal blinked the water from her eyes as she traded blows with the Ra'zac whose numbers seemed relentless. Or perhaps it was because it took so much strength to take down one that it felt like fighting at least five. And that didn't even take into account how the men fared on the ground below.

The two remaining Lethrblaka proved lethal all on their own. In managing to pin down one with surprise, they had a chance to take it down. The other two would not fall so easily and were careful to fly low only long enough to yank soldiers off the ground with their claws and teeth. Hal flinched as a body was crushed in the Lethrblaka's mouth right as it flew past her, bits of blood splashing across her face and chest.

Her feet moved before she could fully comprehend the madness of what she was about to do. She only had a few feet of roof left, pumping her arms at her sight as she neared the edge.

"HAL, DON'T YOU DARE BE STUPID!"

Too late, Roran. She leaped off the edge and hurled herself onto the back of the Lethrblaka, digging her blade into its side so that she didn't fall right off. The Ra'zac glanced down at her from its spot in the saddle, hissing and cursing as it tried to stomp on her fingers. The Lethrblaka cried out as the Ra'zac's efforts only succeeded in jostling the blade. Then it began to turn upside down, and Hal only had a moment to process her options and reached out for the strap on the Ra'zac's boot. She gripped it tight and the creature cried out in realization, but it was too late. She yanked her sword free before she lost it as she began to fall, pulling the Ra'zac down with her. The Ra'zac immediately tightened its grip on the reigns, and the Lethrblaka shrieked as it was yanked back.

Hal held on for dear life, knowing the Ra'zac would do the same to keep from plummeting to its death. Sure enough, the Lethrblaka quickly straightened up, and Hal dropped into the saddle where the Ra'zac swiftly reached for her throat. Her thighs gripped the sides with desperation, trained from years of riding Nani. But trying to fight while trying not to fall was harder in practice than in theory, and her movements looked as desperate and scattered as she felt.

Part of her realized that the Lethrblaka was climbing to dangerously high heights. Murtagh had told her once that the air, for whatever reason, became thinner the higher one went. He had even said he had once nearly passed out on Thorn's back — a dangerous risk, but one he had taken to see and know for himself his own limitations when in flight. It felt impossibly colder, and Hal felt her head grow thick as her vision began to flicker.

Distracted by the rapidly thinning air, Hal was shocked back into focus when the Ra'zac landed a blow across her jaw. It felt weaker than it normally would have, and she had to wonder if it was struggling to breathe like she was. But before she could retaliate, it had its fingers wrapped around her neck, squeezing as tightly as possible. She felt herself claw at the deathly grip with a weakness. If she went limp now, would the Ra'zac loosen its hold thinking she was dead?

For just a moment, the world became still. They were so high up that it took Hal a moment to realize that they had flown above the storm clouds and were gazing at the sun, much to the Ra'zac's despair as it shrieked at the bright light. Hal felt a small gasp leave her, stunned at the sight off the warm rays above the terrifying dark clouds below. However, the moment soon passed when her body had finally had enough and she passed out...

…And then suddenly, she was conscious again, her eyes opening almost as if she were waking up from a deep sleep. Only this time, as the blackness around her eyes slowly faded, her head had become clear enough to realize that she was no longer flying, but falling. The screams of the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka reached her as they all writhed and twisted in the air. It took Hal a moment to see that the Lethrblaka's wings seemed stuck to its body, unable to open as if held by some invisible force. Magic, she assumed. Although she didn't think she had called on hers, not even on accident. Certainly not like she had in the castle when she had made the man incapable of breathing. But then how?

What the hell was she on about? It was as if something had clicked in her mind and she became fully alert and petrified. She was free-falling with absolutely no means of saving herself. Her stomach was in her throat as she plunged back towards the ground, the city coming into alarming focus as they fell though the powerful storm. She couldn't even scream, trying instead to figure out a way to slow her fall without draining herself of her magic.

Something tickled her mind, making it impossible to focus properly. She then heard a familiar roar that would've made her eyes widen if the wind wasn't already blowing them open. She tried to turn her body around just as something slammed into her from the side, knocking her off course. There was a moment of terror, not knowing what had hit her because it had happened so fast. However, she slowly detangled herself from another set of arms and legs that were wrapping themselves around her in an embrace. Just like that, she was face-to-face with Murtagh, whose eyes were focused at something beyond her.

Hal followed his gaze and her heart lifted as she caught sight of Thorn beneath them, seemingly almost at standstill in the air. Unlike what Hal had been doing moments before, this fall felt controlled and calculated. Almost fluid, like Murtagh and Thorn had practiced for such a moment. Although it wouldn't completely surprise her if they had.

As they grew closer, Thorn began a slow, steady decline, his wings unmoving. Murtagh, however, remained angled until they were close enough that he could stretch out his hand. Hal realized it was so that she and Murtagh did not slam into Thorn's body, especially the spikes along his back. Instead, Murtagh was able to grab hold of the saddle strap. He gestured for Hal to do the same. Following his lead, she grabbed hold and eased herself onto Thorn's back, Murtagh right behind her. Almost immediately, Thorn's wings took over once again as he pulled out of the descent with moments to spare.

Hal gasped, her stomach thrown about carelessly as the ground rushed up towards them. She had not even noticed until now how close they had come in those final moments. Had Murtagh and Thorn not arrived when they had...

She looked back at the broken bodies of the Lethrblaka and Ra'zac, shuddering with understanding that that had almost been her fate as well. She was sure Murtagh had said something, but his voice was muffled, Hal too distracted to respond. Thorn flew back into the city walls, releasing another ferocious roar before diving down for the Ra'zac, tearing their bodies with his claws. The soldiers on the ground cheered, their rousing cries almost tearful to Hal's ears. The sight of the man and dragon they had once feared and hated was now their symbol of hope in desperate times. Hal swallowed back the bitter irony.

Thorn landed a few paces back from the main fighting, splashing mud up from the ground. Folding in his wings, he craned his neck to look back at Hal, his deep red eyes, filled concerned, all she could see. Are you all right, little one? Are you hurt?

Hal was shivering in the saddle, unsure if it was from the lingering chill of her high altitude or the shock from the fall. Blinking rain out of her eyes, she responded, I think I'm okay. Just stunned. Catching her breath, she stared at Thorn for a moment, then turned in her seat to look at Murtagh. His face was rather pale, his eyes seemingly darker than usual. Wild with rage and panic. Except for the white of his eyes. Those were bloodshot, and Hal could see faint bruising under his eyes from exhaustion.

She was still clinging to him with a tight grip, and struggled to pry her fingers loose after such a fall. Hal took his face in her hands, his skin cold to the touch, but solid all the same. "I knew it. I knew you'd come back."

He looked about to speak when another voice interrupted, shouting over the sounds of the storm and the fighting. Hal, Murtagh, and Thorn all whipped their heads around as Baldor and Albriech came from around the corner. Looks of relief crossed their face when they saw Hal and they ran even harder towards them.

Snapped out of it, Murtagh cleared his throat before climbing down from Thorn, reaching for Hal's hand to help her. The Horstsson brothers reached them, panting. "Don't…ever…scare us like that…again," Baldor chastised between breaths.

Hal nodded her head, still feeling rather out of it. "I'm sorry I worried you."

The moment was, however, immediately interrupted by the scream of the remaining Lethrblaka, and a sober reminder of what they faced made Hal's chest go tight. She was tired. So very, very tired. And the thought of going back into such madness made her want to pitch a fit like a child being punished. She just wanted the fighting to end.

"I assume you and Thorn came alone," Albriech stated.

"Aye. Arya and Fírnen continued on to Teirm just to be safe."

"Well, it's no matter, the Shade is here and Teirm was likely nothing more than a diversion. Although, she hasn't revealed herself to anyone."

Murtagh looked to the brothers. "Get Hal away from here —"

Despite her feelings on the fighting, her stubbornness reared itself once again and Hal firmly said, "No."

"Hal, I'm not asking you. You just fell thousands of feet and you look like you're about to pass out. I cannot, in good conscious, send you back out into battle in such a state."

"It doesn't matter because I'm going anyway."

"I cannot fight if I'm worrying about you —"

"You have no choice, Murtagh. All I've done since the attack began is fight and worry about you. And I'm still standing, just as you taught me." She steadied her gaze as she looked him in the eyes. "I can still fight. I will still fight."

He held her look for a moment. Reading her and seeing the truth in her words. When she realized he accepted her decision, she smiled at him and added, "I fought this long because I knew you'd come back. I wanted to show you that, even apart, you don't have to worry about me."

Murtagh shook his head. "Dammit all, Hal. I'm always going to worry about you." As he spoke, he was wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her in for a sudden kiss. Despite the chill still embedded deep in her bones, his touch was a spot of warmth and heat she so desperately needed. His mouth was quick to consume her, and she could feel the smallest bit of fear and relief that had driven him back to the city. Back to her. Hal responded in kind, holding him tight to her, giving herself these few seconds of respite. He pulled away all-too-soon, looking down at her with a small smile. He didn't say anything more. He didn't have to.

His eyes shifted back into focus, serious once more as he looked to the brothers. "Baldor, remain with Hal until she's caught her breath. Albriech, with me. Thorn —"

The dragon roared before his rider could finish, leaping into the air and charging into battle on his own.

Murtagh gave her one final look before he and Albriech took off towards the fighting. He didn't look back, but Hal watched him run off, the sight of his back as comforting as ever. However, the moment he and Albriech were out of sight, Hal dropped to her knees.

"Whoa there," Baldor exclaimed, rushing towards her with worry. But Hal was fine, just needed to catch her breath.

"Baldor?"

"Yes, Miss Halen?"

She looked over at him and shook her head. "Don't ever let me do anything like that again."

He grinned, suppressing his laughter. "Yes, ma'am."

…

By the time Hal was ready to rejoin the fight, Thorn had already disposed of the last and final Lethrblaka, their ferocious fight almost a spectacle to those on the ground who really couldn't afford to be distracted. Hal couldn't blame their curiosity. Thorn's fighting was a mix of terrifying strength and a much welcome relief. His presence seemed to lift the spirits of the men, who felt more powerful now that they had a dragon rider back on their side.

Baldor had suggested they aid in moving those who were already injured, and Hal quickly agreed. She could fight, but she was no soldier. And the cries of the wounded called to her more than the sounds of battle.

The scale of the fighting seemed to have shrunk compared to what it had been just before sunrise. With the civilians gone, everything felt less chaotic and confusing. The Ra'zac numbers seemed fewer, even though they were still devastating. Not to mention that as Hal and Baldor worked, she could always catch a glimpse of Murtagh and Thorn out of the corner of her eye. A flash of red magic here. A glimpse of scarlet scales there. Thorn's roars and fires were a soothing lullaby to the bruised and battered men. Although she hated that they were in the thick of it, she felt more in control knowing they were in her peripheral vision.

"THEY'RE FALLING BACK!"

Hal glanced around, unsure who had shouted. Sure enough, the Ra'zac had been steadily retreating further south. They were moving the line! A wave of hope moved through the troops, and through Hal. Might it be possible to end the fighting after all?

However, as soon as the thought crossed her mind, a creeping sensation of dread climbed its way up her back. Unsure of what caused it, Hal froze, listening. Or at least trying to. It was a faint whispering, unnoticeable to all those around her. Discerning the words over all the noise, even with her level of hearing, was impossible. Yet it seemed to carry through the very air around them, like words catching in the wind.

Then the rain stopped.

It was jarring, with it having been so heavy that it was perhaps the most overwhelming source of noise over everything else. So, when it stopped, it was immediately, unnaturally quiet. Everyone felt it. So much so that the fighting temporarily ceased as everyone glanced around in confusion, even the Ra'zac.

"My gods," Baldor breathed.

Hal already knew why. Once her eyes adjusted, she could see that it wasn't just that the rain had stopped, but that it had come to a complete standstill. They were surrounded by thousands of droplets that hovered in the air.

"NOBODY MOVE!" Roran shouted. Hal couldn't blame his paranoia. She had never seen anything like it and it felt like one wrong flinch could set it off. However, what 'it' was, she had no idea.

If the rain coming to a halt was comparable to time temporarily standing still, then what happened next was as if time was catching up to itself. There was a low roll of thunder and the rain all came pummeling towards the ground at once, like water being dumped on their heads. Buckets and buckets of it. The weight of it was so heavy that Hal felt the air get knocked out of her as the force of it slammed into her shoulders and the top of her head.

She looked up when it was over. It was still grey and dark, but the rain was gone. Everyone was growing wary with uncertainty. The whispering was back. Now Hal could hear it more clearly, and she felt her blood run cold. It was Thea. But she wasn't alone. Her voice, along with several others, echoed around them, both everywhere and nowhere at once. Hal recognized the dark language. It was the same as when Thea had turned her.

Movement coming from one of the nearby bodies caught Hal's attention. Unable to process what she was witnessing, all she could do was watch as an orb of light floated out through the dead soldier's mouth. Someone behind her yelped in surprise. When she turned to follow the sound, she saw something similar happening to another body.

Her eyes fixated on the sight as more and more orbs appeared from the bodies around them. The soldiers frightfully backed away, and Roran shouted another order for them to hold their positions. Hal very carefully reached out towards the orb closest to her, having a sinking sensation of what she would find. She let her mind brush against it and felt a panicked, fading consciousness. Not just light.

A spirit. Hal's eyes widened as a forgotten memory pulled itself free. A warning spoken by her mother before Hal had woken in a body not quite as it had been before:

"Thea spent years all over Alagaësia, especially far north, researching and discovering ancient forms of magic that had not been used or discovered in centuries. We're talking dark magic, like necromancy and dangerous forms of alchemy. It is this magic that was used to force us to bend to her will, and she did it without knowing our true names. Can you imagine something like that being unleashed on the world"?

Necromancy. Hal had assumed it was a more literal sense of raising the dead. Like bodies from the ground. Never in her wildest nightmares would she have thought it meant raising spirits. The Ra'zac began to shriek, terrified, before they turned and bolted, like cockroaches from some unspoken danger. A few of the soldiers reacted, swinging their weapons at the creatures before realizing they were retreating and not attacking.

Everyone was right: Thea hadn't attacked Ilirea because Hal was here. She didn't need Hal at all. She needed bodies. Spirits. Lots and lots of spirits. For what, however, she was still unable to figure out.

"We need to go, Miss Halen" Baldor said urgently. His voice, however, was far away, his attention preoccupied by the growing number of lights in the air. It was almost beautiful, yet haunting in a way. Just as it had been when Hal saw the spirits of her people in the tunnel. Yet there was a low wailing, faint even to her ears. One of misery and pain. These people had died mercilessly, soldiers and civilians alike. Hal felt sick that, like the Sani, these people would not be left to rest but instead used for further gain by Thea.

That thought was enough to snap her back into action and she turned to Baldor. "Finish taking care of him." She gestured to the soldier splayed out on the ground that they had been assisting, a cut on his throat from a Ra'zac's beak bleeding heavily. I'll be right back."

"Wait —!"

Hal ran towards Murtagh, who saw her coming. He sheathed Za'roc for the time being, his brow furrowed with worry. "They're spirits," she blurted as she reached him. "I don't know how or why, but I think Thea is raising the spirits of the dead. And I'm confident the Black Hand is helping her."

"Could she be making a Shade like she did with you?" His voice was low as he stepped closer, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot. Even if they had been, the remaining soldiers were too caught up in the confusion of the lights to notice Hal and Murtagh's fevered whispers. "She was able to use the spirits of the Sani after all."

"Aye, but this feels different. I don't think she'd need this many spirits to make a Shade. Besides, most of these people are non-magic folk."

Murtagh shook his head. "Don't forget that the spirits themselves don't have to have magic in order to create a Shade. The energy they provide is enough."

Hal whipped her head around at this. "What did you just say?"

Floundering a bit at her hard tone, he repeated himself in a rather cautious voice, as if unsure if he had somehow offended her. "Spirits don't need to have magic. They are useful because of the energy they provide…Hal?"

Magic is part of the natural world. Another world, that neither humans, dwarves, elves, or otherwise, should have access to. In our hands, it has only sowed discord and death. But if we remove ourselves from the occasion, the risk plummets.

If they felt that magic itself was the source of their trouble, they would probably assume they'd be better off without it.

In horror, Hal saw the final piece slide smoothly into place. She finally understood what Thea was attempting to do and just exactly how she was going to do it.

Before she could tell Murtagh, there was a thunderous boom, like another explosion had gone off. It was close enough that Hal and everyone else clamped their hands over their ears. Next, the wind, which had been almost non-existent seconds before, began to pick up. It started off low, rustling Murtagh's hair and blowing a bit of dirt into their faces.

"Head for the castle," Hal murmured, gazing off into the direction the wind was moving. She realized that during the storm, it had been blowing north, towards the city. Now it was the exact opposite, pulling away and steadily picking up speed as the chanting in the air began to grow louder. "Murtagh, we need to get to the castle, now!"

"Roran, to the castle!" he shouted back, not bothering to question Hal, trusting her judgement implicitly.

His cousin responded in a similar manner. "SOLDIERS, RETREAT! TO THE CASTLE."

The command seemed to snap everyone back to attention, and after a moment of hesitation, they began to pick up their feet and run. Some tried to stop to carry those who were injured, struggling to lift them as they fled. Hal might have been imagining it, but the sky seemed to grow darker, as if another storm was approaching. Yet there was still no rain. Only wind, which was getting worse. Running through the destruction of the city was like trying to run through a tunnel. The air was so concentrated that it wasn't long before they were all digging their feet into the ground. Even Thorn had to keep his wings tucked in tight or risk being thrown backwards.

"LOOK OUT!"

A few soldiers shouted in fright as heavy debris started to fly towards them. Broken off pieces of wood and even mid-size stones and brick were pelting towards them. The spirits that had still been hovering, as if immune, now began to be sucked into the strange vortex, helpless. Hal felt like her heart was in her throat, watching the souls fly past, unable to do anything to protect them.

Soon it became impossible to move altogether. Hal felt like she had to put all her energy and focus into crouching down against the barrage of air or risk being lifted off her feet completely.

"Hal, hang on!"

As he spoke, Murtagh drew Za'roc and slammed it into the ground and Hal gripped the pommel of the sword tight, as did Murtagh. Others mimicked his actions, turning their faces away to avoid dirt in their eyes. Some managed to hide behind the structures that still remained standing.

One soldier screamed just as a thick, large slab of wood slammed into him, killing him instantly before carrying him off with the rest of the souls. Murtagh buried Hal underneath him, shielding her as much as possible.

They were too exposed, but Hal wasn't sure if they could safely move. Murtagh seemed to be of like mind because he said, "Look there." She followed his gaze to see the tattered remains of a stone well. She knew the stones would run deep into the earth. It should be a safer place to hide than any of the free-standing homes and shops that remained. "Here's the plan," Murtagh continued. "I'm going to make a shield just long enough to block the wind. When I do, I want you to —"

He didn't get to finish his thought. His eyes widened at something behind her. She turned her head. However, before she could get a good look, Murtagh moved so that he was facing her, his back to the current. Just as quickly as he had pivoted, he jerked forward as if hit from behind. His face went pale, his expression frozen in shock. Hal blinked. "Murtagh?"

His grip on the blade loosened and Hal barely managed to catch him as he fell forward, unconscious. She cried out in shock when she saw an iron rod sticking out of his back shoulder, which was already drenched in blood.

"Murtagh! MURTAGH!"

She heard Thorn roar as the force of the wind continued to batter them. She felt her feet begin to slip out from underneath her as she and Murtagh were nearly taken. She refocused on her energy on hold on to Zar'roc, her other hand holding on to Murtagh's tunic. But the sight of Murtagh's blood was making it impossible to focus. Her mind had gone impossibly blank, terrified of what would happen if she let go of him or the sword, but aware that not doing so could spell the worst.

"Halen, hang on!" Roran was looking back at them, judging the distance between them. Carefully, he yanked his blade out of the ground and let his body go with the wind, carrying him back towards Hal and Murtagh. When he was close, he slammed his sword back into the ground, grunting as the force of it yanked a bit on his shoulder.

"Can you heal him?"

Hal felt her breathing become hoarse, like she was choking on air. It was as though every thought she'd ever had had vanished, leaving her empty and afraid.

"Halen, look at me!"

She glanced up, her lower lip trembling as she met Roran's steely gaze. "Focus! We cannot save Murtagh if you don't focus! Now tell me: can you heal him?"

Right. Right. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus. It was just that…despite everything that had unfolded over the last many hours, this was the moment when she suddenly felt true fear.

"Not without taking the iron out." Hal finally answered, panicked just at the though. Even if she managed to safely remove it, she had no idea what organs or bones lay underneath. Had it struck his heart? Would he bleed out completely if they took the pole out? Not to mention how they would perform such a feat when Hal was having to hold for both her and Murtagh's sake. She called his name again, desperate to at least see his eyes, but he was completely unresponsive.

Then she remembered what Murtagh had been trying to tell her. That he was going to attempt to make a shield to protect them from the winds. Hal looked back at the soldiers and Thorn who were all bracing themselves, holding on for dear life against the relenting winds. The souls had all disappeared into the vortex, too far gone to be saved, most likely. Then she let her eyes follow the air currents to where she presumed Thea and the Black Hand stood, enacting this frightful spell. Something in her gut told her the truth of what was unfolding. The myth that Thea had somehow figured out how to make a reality. She had to act now.

"Roran, hold on to Murtagh for me!"

"Whatever it is you think you're going to do, don't!"

"If we want to get out of this alive, do what I tell you and trust me."

Roran swore, but he gripped Murtagh, easing him carefully into his embrace as Hal let him go, her hands now wet with both his blood and her own. She turned and faced the direction they had come from, eyes squinting. Somewhere in that direction was Thea. She didn't know how she knew, but she did.

She closed her eyes, conjuring the image clearly in her mind of what she needed. She reached out to the spirits in her body and felt them connect with her in turn. Please, she begged to them quietly, guide me.

There was no verbal response, but Hal knew they were there. She called on her magic, sucking it up as though pulling it from every cell and crevice in her body. Whatever she had left to give, she needed it now. Her energy seemed to grow in scale, filling her like water being poured into a cup. When she opened her eyes, a gold light was emanating from her like she was on fire. She could hear Roran swear in awe as she got into position, slowing standing to her feet and holding her hands out, digging the points of her boots into the dirt as the wind continued to whip around her.

A narrow beam of light shot up from the ground in front of them. It seemed to reach towards the heavens themselves, and then began to mold itself out and back. The pool of energy within her seemed limitless and draining. Like there was a leak somewhere in the middle while water continued to be poured on top. Hal began to smell something foul in the air, like rotten eggs, and she feared something was wrong. But she felt a gentle nudge in the back of her mind, and she dug deeper still, trusting the spirits to not lead her astray. She knew she was also taking energy but from where, she could not say. Mystified by her own magic, Hal watched as a glorious shield wrapped itself around them, stretching back as far as she could manage. She didn't know how strong it was or how strong she needed it to be. Surely, just enough for everyone to take proper cover would be enough.

There was another explosion. This time from up ahead in the direction Hal faced. Her eyes widened in fright as the energy rose up, expanding like a partial dome in the sky. It was the only warning they got, and something told her to put everything she had into make her shield as impenetrable as possible.

She braced herself, poring more of her magic, her energy, into their protection. And not a moment to soon, because when she looked up again, she realized that the surrounding air was being pushed out, headed right towards them. It flattened every single fixture and structure left standing as if on some kind of rampage.

Hal let out a challenging scream. The wave of energy struck and the force of it pushed her just a fraction of an inch. But she dug her heels in, letting out another roar to make sure her shields held. The energy being deflected was creeping up the sides of the magic, as if trying to find a way in. Hal was still screaming. She had no doubt that, in this moment, every spirit contained in her body was needed to perform such a momentous spell, as she too used energy of dead souls for her own gain. Her nose began to steadily bleed, and she felt similar droplets at the corners of her eyes, and some from her ears. She felt the bones in her arm fracture from the pressure, the weight she was putting on them as heavy as being crushed under stone.

As quickly as it had come, it was over. Whatever attack Thea had called dissipated, and Hal soon after dropped her arms, her shield holding for a few more seconds before it flickered and disappeared as she released her magic. She wavered, and Roran lunged to catch her just as she collapsed. "Halen? Halen, look at me. Can you hear me?"

She was choking, and a trickle of blood oozed out of the corner of her mouth. "Ma-ma—"

She swallowed, then coughed, her body convulsing as it tried to distinguish air from the blood that must be in her lungs. "Just stay with me, Halen. I'll get you to a healer. Just keep fighting, okay? You've been so brilliant. So brilliant, just stay with me a little longer."

But no. Hal needed to say this. She didn't know what might happen to her, and she needed him to deliver a message. She needed to make sure everyone knew exactly what had happened just now. She reached for and gripped the front of his tunic, pulling herself up to speak. "Ma-magic. Th-Thea took…ma-magic."

And then her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed.