The huge and chaotic storm outside the Elf Palace began to fade into smaller storms. But the sound of thunder still echoed beyond the horizon.
The battlefield that was chaotic before now lay still, filled with the smoking remnants of the undead army that had been turned to ash.
The metallic scent of burned flesh hung in the air. The constructs stood or floated motionless now without the commands of the Elves' soldiers. Their glowing runes dimmed one by one as the command circuits disengaged.
From the tallest balcony of the palace, Aurdis stood beneath the silver archway, her long cloak whipping in the wind.
Below her, the Elves were already tending to the small amount of wounded and ordering the retreat of most of the remaining siege engines.
However,, for all the victory surrounding her, her heart still felt tight.
Saeldir appeared beside her, his steps light despite the exhaustion clinging to him.
