The Decimation

Eryndor crouched low, his sharp eyes scanning the dense foliage around him. The trees offered some cover, but he knew it wasn't enough to remain entirely hidden. They had chosen this spot carefully, just outside the perimeter of Ferm, to keep an eye on the humans and their activities. The plan was simple: Lupus would infiltrate, gather information, and return. But something was off-Lupus should have been back by now.

Eryndor glanced over at his companion, Sylas, who was similarly on edge. "It's been too long,"

Eryndor muttered, keeping his voice low. "Lupus should have reported back by now."

Sylas nodded, his expression mirroring Eryndor's concern. "You think he's been caught?"

Eryndor frowned, his thoughts racing. "Lupus is careful, but these humans... they're different. They're not like the ones we've dealt with before. They're too well-prepared, too cautious. It wouldn't surprise me if they had figured out his presence."

Sylas shifted slightly, peering through the gaps in the leaves towards the ruined town. "We can't afford to wait much longer. If Lupus is compromised, we need to know what he found out before it's too late."

Eryndor knew Sylas was right. The information Lupus was supposed to gather was crucial to their plans. King Thandor had sent them to ensure that the humans were holding up their end of the deal, but if something had gone wrong... Eryndor didn't want to think about the consequences.

"Lupus is skilled," Eryndor said, trying to reassure himself as much as Sylas. "But if he hasn't returned by now, it might mean the humans have detained him. We need to be ready for that possibility."

Sylas's grip tightened on his weapon, a finely crafted elven dagger. "If they've caught him, they'll try to get information out of him. We know what these humans are capable of. We should prepare for the worst."

Eryndor's mind raced, considering their options. They could wait a little longer, hoping Lupus would return with the intelligence they needed. Or they could assume the worst and take action now, though it would mean abandoning Lupus to his fate.

"I don't like this," Eryndor said, his voice tense. "We need to get closer, see if we can spot anything. If Lupus is in trouble, we can't just sit here."

Sylas nodded, his face set in determination. "Agreed. But we have to be careful. If they've set up defenses or are expecting us, it could be a trap."

Eryndor weighed the risks. "We'll move closer, but we'll stay in the shadows. No direct engagement unless we have no choice. We can't afford to lose anyone else."

With a final glance towards the treeline, Eryndor signaled for the others to follow. The small group of elves moved silently through the underbrush, their footsteps barely making a sound. As they approached the edge of the forest, Eryndor's unease grew.

Sylas edged closer to Eryndor. "Something's not right. I am getting a bad feeling about this."

"Bad feeling? You are just being paranoid," Eryndor whispered back, though he couldn't shake the same uneasy feeling gnawing at him.

The elves continued to move cautiously through the underbrush, their senses heightened. Every rustle of leaves, every distant sound, set them on edge. They were trained for situations like this, but the silence in Ferm was unnerving. Lupus should have returned by now, or at least sent some kind of signal.

As they reached the edge of the treeline, Eryndor halted the group with a raised hand. He scanned the area, searching for any signs of movement or traps. The protective walls of Ferm loomed ahead, it's near.

Just as Eryndor was about to signal the others to move forward, a flicker of light in the sky caught his attention. At first, it seemed insignificant, but as he watched, the light grew brighter, cutting through the sky like a golden arrow with a trail of smoke streaking behind it. It was heading straight for them.

Eryndor's heart raced as he realized the danger. His gut instincts screamed at him, and without a second thought, he shouted, "Get down! Move, now!"

The urgency in his voice sent the elves scrambling, but it was too late. The missile, now unmistakable in its intent, struck their position with a deafening explosion. The impact was catastrophic, tearing through the trees and sending shockwaves through the ground.

Eryndor was thrown backward, his vision blurred as debris and smoke filled the air. The protective amulet around his neck, a gift from the royal family imbued with aether, flared to life, surrounding him in a shimmering shield of energy. The force of the explosion dissipated around him, sparing his life, but the others were not so fortunate.

As the dust settled, Eryndor struggled to his feet, his ears ringing. The scene around him was one of utter devastation. The once-thick treeline was now a charred ruin, trees splintered and burning, the ground cratered from the blast. Bodies of his comrades lay scattered, lifeless, their forms twisted and broken.

Sylas... the others... all of them were gone.

Eryndor's breath came in ragged gasps as he took in the carnage. The protective amulet had saved him, but it couldn't save the others. He was alone.

Grief and rage surged through him in equal measure. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge. The humans-these treacherous, cunning humans-had struck without mercy.

Eryndor staggered forward, his legs weak from the blast and the shock of what had just happened. He knew he had to move, to get out of the area before the humans sent in troops to finish the job. But as he turned to leave, something inside him snapped.

He couldn't just run. He couldn't just leave his fallen comrades behind without retribution. But what can he do? He didn't even know what attacked them in the first place. Was it a dragon-kind?

He looked to the sky and saw nothing. It was dark, and the only light came from the dying embers of the explosion that had decimated his team. He scanned the sky again, searching for any sign of what had attacked them, but there was nothing-no dragon, no visible enemy. Just the lingering smoke trail that was slowly dissipating into the night sky. His mind whirled, trying to make sense of the situation. What could have struck them so suddenly, so powerfully?

Eryndor's thoughts turned to the humans. He had heard rumors of their advanced weaponry, devices that could strike from great distances with deadly accuracy, and even killed a Flame Dragon. Was this one of those weapons? The realization sent a shiver down his spine. He was away when the flame dragon attacked the Great Forest of Arendel due to scouting missions. But if that was the case, then this is just the way of the humans declaring war on the elves.

He must report this back ASAP.