---
The sun had barely risen over the Rift Plains when the first true clash erupted. Mist clung to the valleys like a living thing, concealing the movements of Varin's vanguard as they advanced toward the southern trade routes. Caltherra's defenders, forewarned by spies and scouts, had taken positions along ridges and narrow passes, using the terrain to their advantage. Yet even with strategy and preparation, the scale of the assault was overwhelming.
Commander Emina stood atop a jagged outcrop, her cloak whipping in the cold wind. Her sharp eyes followed the advance of Varin's troops, the glint of armor catching the fragile morning light. "Hold your ground," she called to the frontlines. "Do not engage until I give the signal. We strike only where it counts."
Beside her, a young lieutenant nervously adjusted the straps on his armor. "Ma'am, they're moving faster than we anticipated. Their vanguard is already within the valley."
Emina's jaw tightened. "Then they'll be the first to pay." She turned to the etheric communications grid, sending messages to the Citadel, her voice controlled, steady. "Lysara, this is Emina. Varin has crossed the northern pass. Engagement is imminent. We need… guidance. Any support?"
Static filled her ears. The Citadel's response came after several tense moments, terse but deliberate. Hold your position. Do not overextend. Force them into the passes. Minimize casualties.
Emina clenched her fists, eyes sweeping the battlefield. "Then we do exactly that. Let the plains funnel them. Let greed lead them to overcommit."
---
On the western side, Varin observed the valley from a high ridge. His expression was unreadable, though every motion betrayed anticipation. He had counted on this moment for weeks—the decisive strike that would secure control over the Rift Plains and tip the Accord irreversibly in his favor.
"Push forward," he commanded, voice cutting through the morning air. "Do not fear the southern defenses. They are weak and scattered. We strike fast, we strike hard, and Afterlight will remember whose strength rules."
His generals nodded, deploying units into the valley. Black Ether flares glimmered along their lines, subtle yet menacing. Rumors whispered among the soldiers suggested Varin had obtained contraband shards, condensed in dangerous quantities. Each flare pulsed with a distortion that could disorient those who came too close.
---
Meanwhile, in the east, the Heralds of the Second Void watched from a distance, their blackened Ether shards absorbing the faint light of dawn. Their intent was not conquest but observation, letting chaos seed itself before they claimed its remnants.
"We will not move yet," whispered one of the Heralds, the shadows around him bending unnaturally. "Let the provinces destroy themselves. Let fear fracture them. Only then does the void awaken fully."
---
In the Rift Plains, the first volleys were exchanged. Arrows soared, clashing against shields, while small, controlled eruptions of Ether flares ignited near the valley's edges. Soldiers on both sides hesitated, wary of the unpredictable power at play.
Kai and Axel, deployed by Lysara herself to observe the conflict and offer rapid reinforcement if needed, moved silently along a ridge. Kai's eyes were sharp, tracking the formation of Varin's lines, calculating angles and choke points. Axel's fists were clenched, anticipation thrumming in his veins.
"They're moving too fast for standard tactics," Kai muttered. "If we intervene, we risk exposure, but if we don't…"
Axel nodded grimly. "Then we watch Afterlight burn."
---
The Citadel, high above, observed through ether-linked grids. Lysara's face was pale, her eyes reflecting the streams of data streaming across the crystal panels. "Do not underestimate him," she warned, addressing Erwin and a council of strategists. "Varin has not just moved troops; he has calculated this for maximum psychological impact. The first collision is as much about fear as it is about territory."
A low murmur spread across the council chamber. Reports indicated that Varin had already gained ground in the narrow passes, forcing some of Caltherra's units to retreat under heavy pressure.
"We can't let him hold the passes," Erwin said sharply. "If he secures that ground, he controls the flow of trade, reinforcements, everything. It's over before it begins."
Lysara's hands hovered over the control panels, tapping into the Ether flows, seeking weaknesses and opportunities. "We'll need precise intervention," she said. "Minimal exposure. A single misstep, and we risk escalating this into full-scale war. We cannot let Afterlight fracture completely—not yet."
---
Back in the valley, Emina's forces had begun to pull the strings as planned. Narrow ridges became traps, and well-timed volleys of arrows and Ether pulses cut Varin's vanguard into smaller groups, isolating pockets of soldiers. Despite the initial surprise, the southern forces had begun to stabilize the front.
Varin's voice rang across the battlefield, frustration barely contained. "Hold the line! Do not let them divide us!"
Kai and Axel finally made their move, darting across the ridges with calculated precision. Small disruptions, well-placed, sent tremors through Varin's formations without revealing their presence. Shadows shifted unnaturally, but no one could pinpoint the source.
Axel gritted his teeth, his fist smashing against a rocky outcrop to redirect a minor collapse toward a cluster of Varin's soldiers. "We can't save everyone," he muttered, "but we can make it count."
---
The first major clash ended not with victory, but with hesitation. Varin's forces, battered and unnerved by the traps and sudden disruptions, pulled back to regroup. Caltherra's defenders held their ground, though at great cost. The valley lay littered with debris, blackened Ether flares smoking in the early sun, and the cries of the wounded echoing across the plains.
From a high ridge, Lysara watched through the grids, her mind racing. She knew this was only the beginning. Varin had tested her forces, measured their limits, and now he would adapt. The first collision was over—but the storm had only just begun.
And in the shadows, an unseen figure within the Citadel watched the battle unfold. The whisper of betrayal lingered in the air, a subtle, dangerous presence that could undo even Lysara's most precise strategies.
The Tides of Discord had surged for the first time.
And Afterlight would never be the same again.
---