The Harbinger

Chapter Four: Forged in Storms

The courtyard quaked beneath the weight of the battle, the clash of steel and the wails of magic reverberating through the ruins. Anu's malevolence seemed boundless, a force that threatened to consume all.

As Thomas fought on, his heart still heavy with grief, he felt a surge of something primal coursing through his veins. It was as if the very storm that raged above mirrored the tempest within him. With a resounding cry, he raised his sword high into the ink-black sky.

Suddenly, a blinding bolt of lightning lanced down from the heavens, striking the blade with a deafening crack. The courtyard was bathed in searing brilliance, a stark contrast to the encroaching darkness. For a moment, all was still.

Arwen and Agatha stood in wide-eyed astonishment, their breath caught in their throats. The heavens had answered Thomas's call, imbuing his sword with a power beyond mortal comprehension.

In that silence, Thomas felt a surge of newfound strength, a raw force that pulsed through him. His eyes gleamed with a fierce determination, and without hesitation, he charged towards Anu.

The necromancer, caught off guard by this sudden turn of events, struggled to raise a defence in time. Thomas's strike was a blur of steel and lightning, a devastating force that rent through Anu's defences with ease.

The courtyard trembled, the very ground quaking beneath the impact. Anu staggered back, a guttural roar of pain and fury tearing from his lips. He could feel the tide of the battle shifting, the weight of Thomas's anger and determination bearing down upon him.

Arwen and Agatha, spurred on by their comrade's newfound power, redoubled their efforts. Arwen's arrows flew with uncanny precision, finding chinks in Anu's darkened armour. Agatha's incantations were laced with a renewed fervour, her magic swirling and coalescing with a potency that defied explanation.

Anu, now on the defensive, fought desperately to hold his ground. But with every strike of Thomas's electrified blade, it was clear that the balance of power had irrevocably shifted.

As the battle raged on, the courtyard became a crucible of light and shadow, a battleground where the forces of darkness clashed against a beacon of unyielding valor. The echoes of steel and the crackle of magic filled the air, a symphony of defiance against the encroaching night.

In the heart of the inferno, amidst the ruins of Lysandra, three souls stood united against a force that sought to consume the world in darkness. And with each strike, each resounding clash of steel, they knew that they were on the cusp of victory.