Ermid was the first to reach the scene, bursting through the smoke-choked clearing and immediately setting upon the dark elves who were putting the place to the torch.
The faint screams of the last remaining survivors had already been snuffed out. Their mangled bodies lay strewn across the ground, twisted in unnatural shapes, blood soaking into the earth. Around them, the trees had blackened once more, their bark cracked and withered beneath the overwhelming taint of dead mana that hung thick in the air like poison.
Xeveris arrived with the others only moments later. Without hesitation, they charged at the handful of dark elves, aiming to subdue them and drag them back to the colony before they could cause further ruin. Yet instead of yielding to their elders, the younger elves lashed out wildly at anyone who came near.
