The enclave courtyard roared with the chaos of battle, crimson mist creeping through shattered stonework, blood orbs humming in the distance, their impacts melting stone like wax.

Veilbound sorcerers atop the ridge chanted, their crimson robes tattered, arms raised in a guttural hymn to the Crimson Veil.

Shadow-beasts scuttled through the red fog below, their serrated claws slicing the air, drawn to the faltering Lysaran defenses.

The village clung to the glowing cliffside, its sigils pulsing faintly, a defiant wound against Vyrneth's corruption.

Leon stood at the courtyard's edge, his linen cloak flaring behind him, his reforged dagger glinting at his belt.

His wind and light magic pulsed steady, trained through Terya's and Lysette's guidance, though the Veil's oppression weighed on his core.

A shadow-beast leapt from the cliffs, its grotesque limbs twitching with venomous anticipation, targeting a young enclave warrior—barely more than a girl, her spear shaking, her eyes wide with terror.

Zara didn't hesitate.

With a grunt, she hurled herself forward, her axe a flash of silver slamming into the beast's skull mid-lunge.

The creature shrieked, crumpling in a twitching heap, black ichor pooling beneath.

Zara landed in front of the girl, her cursed leg buckling slightly, her bronze skin slick with sweat, curse marks flaring red along her arm and thigh.

She stood tall, breath heavy, her silver hair whipping in the charged wind. "Keep your feet planted," she growled, gripping the girl's shoulder.

"Tighten your stance. Next time, meet it head-on."

The girl nodded, her lips trembling, her fear shifting to awe.

Zara turned, wincing as her curse marks flared, pain etching her grimace.

Leon rushed to her side, his cloak brushing the ground. "You're hurt," he said, his voice tight with concern.

"I can stand," she grunted, her blue eyes narrowing, but her stance wavered.

"I know," he said gently, kneeling beside her, his hand brushing her arm.

Golden light glowed under his fingers, easing the tension in her muscles, calming the furious burn of her curse.

Their eyes met, Zara didn't look away, her usual stoicism softening into an open, unguarded warmth.

Her hand covered his, rough fingers squeezing once, lingering, a pulse of connection passing between them.

"Thanks," she muttered, low enough for only him to hear, her voice raspy but soft, a rare smile flickering across her lips.

Across the courtyard, Lysette stood before the enclave council, her white robe smeared with blood and dirt, torn at the thigh, revealing the firm curve of her leg.

Her light magic crackled at her fingertips, her emerald eyes flashing as she faced a chained traitor—an enclave warrior, her neck marked with glowing Veilbound sigils, exposed by Lysette's radiant spell.

The council looked shaken, their pride wounded by betrayal.

"We cannot let fear paralyze us," Lysette snapped, her voice cutting through the chaos. "This corruption festered under your watch. It's time for the enclave to change."

An older councilwoman stood, her face pale, but a fresh screech from the outer wall cut her off.

Another wave of shadow-beasts surged, their glowing white eyes piercing the mist.

Leon stepped forward instinctively, raising one hand.

Light pulsed from his fingertips, forming a bright sphere, wind coiling around it like a living shell.

He hurled it forward, the radiant blast bursting across the advancing beasts, blinding and scouring them in a flare of light and air, their howls fading as they collapsed.

Lysette's emerald eyes met his, a sharp nod of approval passing between them, a ghost of a smile crossing her lips, her fiery defiance softened by trust.

Terya swept in, her wind magic slicing through two beasts, her leather armor tight against her sweat-slicked frame, her blonde hair whipping.

She nudged the young warrior with her elbow, her laughter light. "Not bad for your first day. Just don't die yet."

The girl blinked, a faint grin breaking through her fear.

The battle raged, but with the traitor exposed and the group united, the tide shifted.

Zara's axe cleaved through another beast, her curse marks flaring but her strikes unyielding.

Terya danced through the fray, her daggers a blur, wind arcs cutting through webs and limbs.

Lysette's light magic bolstered the enclave's barrier, her staff raised, her voice rallying the warriors.

Leon's radiant wind arcs struck with precision, his confidence firm, the Veil's whispers drowned by the trust of his companions.

Victory wasn't guaranteed, but it was possible.

____________

The battle outside the enclave had slowed, its scars stark against the glowing stone: blood-spattered walls, scorched wards, and crimson mist hissing through cracks like venomous serpents.

Within the glowing sanctum of Lysara's Temple, silence reigned, the air thick with the aftermath of combat.

Marble pillars carved with divine script pulsed faintly with golden light, their surfaces alive with Lysaran sigils.

The crimson mist lingered outside, but inside, the temple held a fragile sanctity, its bone-white arches standing defiant against the Veil's corruption.

Lysette stood at the center of a circular dais, her arms raised high, her white robe swirling in a breeze that had no source, its hem singed and torn, revealing the firm curve of her thigh.

Her light magic crackled, tendrils of radiant energy climbing the pillars like holy vines, her emerald eyes burning with focused intensity.

Her voice, low and resonant, echoed through the sanctum.

"By Lysara's grace, cleanse this home. Illuminate the shadows within."

Leon stood just behind her, his cloak flapping gently, his reforged dagger glinting at his belt.

His wind and light magic pulsed in his chest, trained over two days by Lysette's relentless drills, though Vyrneth's Crimson Veil pressed against his core.

His eyes darted over the glowing sigils spreading across the dais, their patterns weaving a map of power.

Terya flanked him, her hand resting lightly on his arm, her green eyes searching his expression, her leather armor clinging to her sweat-slicked curves, her blonde hair catching the golden light.

Zara leaned against a stone railing, her axe across her lap, her silver hair damp, her curse marks faintly glowing but quiet, her blue eyes sharp and watchful.

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