The Battle of Souls
Ariana's breath hitched as the world seemed to grind to a halt. The air was thick with tension, the remnants of dark magic still pulsing like a slow heartbeat, threatening to awaken. Blood and ash mingled in the dirt beneath her feet, the remnants of battle etched across the land. She could feel the raw power coursing through her veins, an ancient force that pulsed with a life of its own. But even with the strength of the bloodlines woven into her very soul, Ariana knew that something dark still loomed just beyond the horizon.
Eleanor was not done yet.
As if summoned by the thought, a cold gust of wind blew through the cave entrance, carrying with it the stench of decay. The shadows seemed to twist and writhe as if alive, and from their depths, a figure emerged.
Eleanor.