Chapter Text
Pain and grief spun the world in a dizzying wheel of ash and blood.
The young elf had done his utmost to heal the wound that tore through his right side, a dark blooded mess of torn chainmaille and flesh that should have killed him outright.
And yet, none of it mattered. She was dead. He knew if he’d stayed in Sílthrim that fact wouldn’t have changed, but his presence at the massacre made him feel a responsibility for her loss. He looked down at her body lying on the burnt ground and a violent sob shook his body as he clutched his wounded side.
There was not a soul around to hear him scream. If there had been any other survivors, they were long gone, assuming him to be among the countless dead burned beyond any recognition by dragonfire. Perhaps, later the army would try to retrieve the bodies. Perhaps the Traitorous ones would once again scour the plains upon their corrupted mounts.
His grief took root in his heart of hearts and he caved. He screamed, and wanted the world to hear it, to feel his loss and pain. Through him, it flowed into the land; a call for help and a cry of rage. Wordless, primal.
Deep in the earth, something rushed to answer.