🄲🄾🄽🄽🄴🄲🅃🄸🄾🄽

The moonlight cast an ethereal glow over the battle-scarred terrain as the Elves clashed with the werewolves. The air was heavy with the stench of blood and sweat. Althaeon, Prince of the Light Elves, led the charge, his sword slicing through the darkness.

"Fall back, Kaelith!" Althaeon shouted to his lover and ally, Prince of the Dark Elves. "We need to regroup!"

Kaelith nodded, his dark hair whipping around his face as he retreated. The werewolves, led by Tharros, pressed their advantage.

In the chaos, a young elf warrior stumbled, her leg wounded. A snarling werewolf lunged, jaws wide. Althaeon leapt, his sword flashing, and struck down the beast.

As the fight raged on, a faint cry echoed through the night: "Althaeon, no!"

---

Aiden's eyes fluttered open, his mind foggy. The scent of body spray choking him. A figure sat beside him, cloaked in shadows.

"Aiden, you're awake," the figure whispered "it's time for lectures"