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A faint smile. “Trust me.” We break apart. He strides into the open, conjuring a wave of psionic pressure that ripples across the courtyard, catching the leaders’ attention. Immediately, they pivot, hurling shards of warped energy. Zareth deflects with a mental shield.

Meanwhile, I slip around the flank, letting a quick transformation morph my features into a half-shrouded silhouette. My entire aura shifts, footsteps silenced. One leader glances my way but sees only swirling smoke. Perfect. I creep closer, heart pounding.

Suddenly, one of the leaders spots me, flaring a bright red staff in alarm.

“She’s here!” she shouts. Magic crackles.

Too late—I’m within arm’s reach. I shift back to my normal form, lunging with a swift blow that knocks the staff from her grasp.

The chaotic energy sputters, dissipating in a flash of red sparks.

Her companion, a tall purna elder with a swirling tattoo across his bald head, unleashes a monstrous wave of force.

I brace, flung backward several paces, crashing into rubble.

Pain flares, but I push up, refusing to yield.

With a growl, I channel my psionic might.

My mind lashes out, colliding with the elder’s consciousness in a brutal mental struggle.

He’s skilled, resisting my incursion. Our psionic energies clash, the courtyard air crackling with invisible tension.

I recall Zareth’s training, how I overcame him.

Summoning that ruthless edge, I push deeper, fracturing the elder’s mental shield.

He gasps, eyes widening. I sense his terror as he realizes I’m stronger.

But I refuse to kill. Twisting the psychic bond, I flood him with calm laced with sedation.

He staggers, staff falling from numb fingers.

Then he collapses to his knees, face slack.

The other leader attempts to strike me from behind, but Zareth intervenes, slamming her with a jolt of psionic dissonance. She wails, toppling.

Panting, I stand among the felled leaders, chest heaving. The massive swirl of destructive magic overhead ebbs, leaving the courtyard quieter. Without their coordinators, many Red Purna foot soldiers falter, spells sputtering. I lock eyes with Zareth, who stares at me in something akin to awe.

“Nicely done,” he mutters, wiping sweat from his brow. He taps the unconscious elder with a boot. “They’re disabled, not dead?”

I nod. “Yes. No more than they deserve. They might see reason once their lust for destruction wanes.”

A roar erupts to our left—Orthani soldiers rallying in a final push to repel the battered purna squads.

I sense Eryx’s and Vaelith’s auras in that throng, pushing the assault to a standstill.

My heart leaps. We might turn the tide. Instead of letting the city crumble, we’ve forced the Red Purna to retreat or risk total defeat.

I glance around at the devastation—smoldering courtyards, bodies of injured on both sides, pillars cracked.

Yet the city stands. Wincing from a bruise along my ribs, I stride toward the main gate, needing to confirm Eryx and Vaelith are safe.

Zareth follows. The Red Purna who remain are scattered, some limping back, others pinned down by Orthani archers.

At the gate, we find Eryx engaged in a tense standoff with a final cluster of purna.

Vaelith looms behind him, halberd braced.

The purna glower, uncertain. Then they catch sight of me and Zareth hauling the unconscious leaders.

Horror dawns on their faces. Their impetus for continuing the fight dissolves.

They drop staves, stepping back. “We… we yield,” one says shakily.

Eryx snorts. “You should’ve realized that before you burnt half the courtyard.”

Vaelith’s gaze flicks to me, relief softening the harsh lines of his face. “Selene,” he breathes. “You managed to subdue them all?”

I nod, chest tight with both triumph and sorrow. The Red Purna’s savage assault ends in their leaders at my feet, unconscious but alive. “I couldn’t let them kill or be killed. Not over Ai or Orthani’s old grudges.”

One of Orthani’s lieutenants stumbles up, battered helmet askew. He stares at the subdued purna and our group. “We… we’ve driven them from the city walls for now. The rest fled or surrendered. Commander Vaelith, your orders?”

Vaelith sets his jaw. “Tend to the wounded. Round up these purna. No executions without my explicit instruction.”

The lieutenant looks shocked but salutes, rushing off.

Orthani soldiers gather to secure the courtyard, disbelief coloring their expressions as they realize the Red Purna assault crumbled.

My mind reels that we actually saved Orthani from annihilation.

The cost is high, though—smoke, wounded elves, purna battered.

But the city’s major structures stand, and Ai remains safe.

I step forward, raising my voice so the cluster of Red Purna survivors can hear. “I’m no pawn of Orthani, nor do I stand for the Red Purna’s monstrous plan. This city brought me pain, but I won’t let innocents burn for a cause twisted by hatred.”

They stare at me in shock, some trembling. My arms tremble with leftover adrenaline. “You used Ai as an excuse to push your destructive agenda, forgetting the purna creed to protect, not to enslave or destroy. Enough. You stand subdued. Surrender quietly, and we can find a new way forward.”

A hush falls, the last embers of battle smoldering around us. The Red Purna glance among themselves, uncertain. A few try to edge away, but Eryx levels his scimitars, corraling them. Zareth stands at my side, silent confirmation. Vaelith surveys the scene with grim satisfaction.

Finally, a wounded acolyte kneels, tears staining her cheeks.

Others follow suit, forced to yield to the unstoppable tide we formed.

My chest constricts with pity. I know their grievances, but they lost themselves in violence.

Now, Orthani’s old power structure teeters as well, uncertain how to handle such an upset.

A group of nobles emerges from a shattered archway, eyes wide, marveling at the scene: a purna leading a motley alliance that just saved Orthani.

They murmur among themselves. Once, they might have demanded my head.

Now, they’re speechless, seeing me stand triumphant with the Red Purna leaders unconscious at my feet.

I set my fists on my hips, voice carrying. “I won’t let Orthani enslave purna any longer, nor allow the Red Purna to butcher an entire city. The old structure is done.” My words echo, a vow that rings across the courtyard.

Vaelith steps forward, halberd butt thumping the ground. “Selene Varess stands as the reason Orthani still stands. We owe her our thanks. And we owe her a hearing. Orthani cannot cling to its ancient cruelty. Things change tonight.”

Nobles exchange stunned looks, uncertain whether to protest or bow. Eryx laughs softly under his breath, leaning close. “Look at them. They don’t know if they should worship you or run.”

I swallow, adrenaline still thrumming. I sense the weight of Ai’s prophecy: burn Orthani or shape it. We didn’t let it burn. By defending it, I claim some measure of authority. The city now sees me as savior and potential threat.

Zareth inclines his head, murmuring low, “You commanded them all—Orthani, the Red Purna. This is your moment, Selene.”

I meet his gaze, recalling how I forced him to kneel.

I recall how Vaelith, Eryx, and Zareth each surrendered to my will.

Now an entire city stands on the brink of my influence.

My pulse surges with a mixture of triumph and dread.

But I made my choice. I won’t watch Orthani collapse under tyranny or vengeance.

Drawing a steadying breath, I step forward, addressing the crowd. “Orthani’s old ways end. If you cling to enslaving purna, if you cling to subjugating humans or fueling the Red Purna’s thirst for destruction, you face me. Ai is safe, neither your pawn nor your sacrifice. We stand at a new dawn.”

Silence descends. Embers swirl in the night breeze.

Then, almost unwillingly, a few elves drop to one knee, exhausted by the night’s brutal conflict, recognizing my role in saving them.

Others remain standing, shock etched on their faces.

I sense the city trembling at the edges, disarray unraveling the Council’s stranglehold.

In their confusion, none leaps forward to challenge me.

Eryx smirks, drifting near. “You’ve undone Orthani’s illusions. No meltdown, no fiasco. Just a city kneeling, whether they realize it or not.”

I nearly laugh at his sly wordplay, but tears prick at my eyes, relief crashing over me.

We survived. Ai remains unscathed, the Red Purna’s leaders subdued.

My men stand around me, battered but alive.

“All right,” I exhale, turning to Vaelith.

“We should secure the wounded, ensure there’s no second wave. Then we see to Ai’s well-being.”

He nods, stepping up with calm efficiency.

The Orthani soldiers who remain loyal to him gather, listening for his commands.

Zareth kneels to check the pulse of a fallen purna, ensuring she’s unconscious but stable.

Eryx heads off to quell any lingering pockets of violence.

For a moment, I stand in the center, letting the flames smolder around me, heart pounding with raw emotion.

The night’s battle cost many lives, but it could have been worse.

We refused to let Orthani or the Red Purna harness Ai, forging our own path in the chaos.

Now I sense the old power structure fracturing.

The council cowers, stunned by our triumph.

We’re no pawns. We broke free of both Orthani’s tyranny and the Red Purna’s fanaticism, forging a new possibility.