“The Cosmos grows eerily silent.”

The galaxy map flickered with a gentle, soothing light, illuminating the dim chamber where Varian de Corvan stood, his gaze lost among the myriad of stars it displayed. The serene glow cast soft shadows over his aged features, belying the turmoil that churned within him. For a moment, the universe seemed at peace, but the quiet was a lie, too thick, too heavy, as if the galaxy itself held its breath in anticipation of calamity.

Varian scratched his beard, catching a glimpse of his face reflecting on the table, the flickering light of the map casting patterns across his weathered face, illuminating the creases and lines that he was not used to seeing. His eyes held a hint of resignation, a weariness that stemmed not just from age but from the burden of he shared with the Veyd Order.

Varian's beard and hair, streaked with more silver threads than the natural dark color, framed a mouth that often curled into a smile, now silent, unmoving.

Beside the map, his wife, Alia, watched him with a mixture of concern and admiration. "The stars are unchanged, Varian," she said softly, trying to infuse a bit of comfort into the air thick with unspoken fears. "They shine just as brightly as they did yesterday. Whatever silence you sense, it's not a harbinger of doom."

Varian turned to her, his lips curling into a smile that failed to reach his eyes. Despite the passage of time, her beauty remained undiminished, age bestowing a graceful dignity upon her sharp features. Her gaze, as penetrating as ever, held his admiration more than any nebula he'd ever beheld.

“There was no response from Daeman” Varian insisted, his tone laced with a mixture of frustration and worry, a stark contrast to his earlier attempt at composure.

“Your brother is fine” Alia intervened with a reassuring calmness “You know him, he just went dark after exploring lifeless worlds to make you feel better, soon enough he’ll be back at Corvalis, telling you about what a boring experience it was”

"Perhaps", he conceded, knowing better than to voice his doubts. Alia had always been his anchor, the calm in every storm. Today, however, his instincts screamed that this silence was different—a lull before a tempest too vast to comprehend and too close to hide.

“You’ve always been a terrible liar”, she laughed “We are lucky that our children took after me, otherwise they’d already be eaten alive”.

Varian chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with fondness. "Well, if they inherited more than just your wits, we've done something right," he quipped, his tone tinged with pride, before turning to the map. "It may just be in my head."

"I know it is. Being locked here all day is not doing you any good," she replied, swiftly linking her arm with his. "Come, let us embrace the day and breathe some fresh air. The map will be here when we return."

Compelled by a need to ground himself in the tangible world, Varian acquiesced, allowing Alia to lead him away from the map room. Together, they traversed the hallowed halls of the Veyd sanctuary, their footsteps echoing against the ancient stone. Statues of revered masters watched over them, their solemn faces a testament to the enduring legacy of the order.

As they made their way through the halls, their eyes were drawn to the open gates leading to the courtyard, where the skies unfolded into a canvas of twilight hues painting over the fallen snow. Varian's gaze drifted upwards, captivated by the first stars of the night as they began to twinkle into existence. Entering the open courtyard, they were greeted by the cold and crisp air, tinged with the faint scent of pine and frost. Snowflakes danced lazily through the air, blanketing the ground in a pristine layer of white. Surrounded by ancient stone walls adorned with intricate carvings depicting the history of the Veyd Order, the courtyard stood as a sanctuary of tranquility amidst the chaos of the cosmos.

Apprentice Veyd children of different species raced through the courtyard, their young faces marked by the trials of their training, their laughter ringing through the air. Some chased each other with playful abandon, while others huddled together in small groups, their faces animated with excitement as they exchanged tales of past adventures and imagined futures.

Veyd Paladins clad in their ceremonial robbed armor, strolled through the courtyard in pairs, engaged in quiet conversation or lost in contemplation. A few paused to offer words of encouragement to the young apprentices, their voices warm and reassuring against the backdrop of uncertainty that loomed overhead.

In a secluded corner of the courtyard, a group of apprentice Paladins gathered around a grizzled mentor, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of their practice blades. With disciplined precision, they practiced combat techniques honed through centuries of tradition, the hum of their blades reverberating through the courtyard like a battle hymn.

“You were right. I needed this”, said Varian, his gaze turning to Alia as they strolled through the courtyard “Thank you for always being my guiding light.”

Alia gazed at him, her cheeks turning red “Stop it, you are going to make me blush in front of the apprentices”, she chuckled.

“Afraid that the young will see us as more than their old and boring masters?”, he answered with a smile on his face. As he turned to the courtyard, his eyes caught a glimpse of Erland, his son talking to Thalia Veynar, one of the apprentices, a young woman, her expression soft, focusing on his words. Varian nudged Alia gently. "Looks like our son is having a moment of his own."

Alia glanced over and saw Erland speaking with Thalia. She smiled softly. "Ah, young love. Do you think we should interrupt?"

Varian shook his head. "Let them be. We'll catch up with him soon enough."

Seeing his parents, Erland said a few more words to Thalia, then walked over to them, his face marked by an embarrassed smile.

"Masters," greeted Erland with a respectful bow, his voice steady with reverence.

Varian reached out to him, a smile spreading across his weathered face. "Erland, my son," he said, his tone gentle yet proud. "There's no need for such formalities between us. You're still our son, regardless of titles."

Erland nodded, his emerald eyes gleaming with admiration for his parents. "Of course, Father," he replied, straightening up. "But as a Paladin of…"

“Oh, forget the formalities” said Varian, before hugging his son “I still couldn’t congratulate you on the anointment. Sorry I missed it, boy”.

“Don’t be sorry” answered Erland “As you said before, these ceremonies are boring. Besides, I am a Paladin now, and that is what matters”.

Alia's smile widened. "And a fine Paladin you've become, my son. I heard you've successfully forged and bloodbounded your noctran. Would you do the honor of showing it to your father?"

Erland opened a smirk on his face as he reached for the hilt of his noctran blade, the blue glow casting a mesmerizing aura in the darkness. With practiced ease, he drew the blade, the Ardanis crystal within pulsating with power.

"It's magnificent," Alia exclaimed, her eyes shimmering with pride.

Varian nodded in agreement. "Indeed, it is. You've done well. I just wouldn’t have picked this color, tell me, what were you thinking?"

“I was contemplative, after the last challenge” answered Erland, deactivating the blade. “I guess the crystal sensed my emotions.”

Alia's smile widened, her eyes shimmering with pride. "It's a beautiful reflection of your journey" she remarked, her voice warm and heartfelt. "Your connection with your noctran blade is a testament to the Paladin you've become, Erland."

Varian nodded in agreement with a knowing smile. "And it will change color in time. Mine didn't take long," he remarked, his voice carrying the weight of experience. “Now, we must show it to your brothers, when they come back.”

“Of course we can,” said Alia, her touch gentle on her son's shoulder. "But for now, let's enjoy this moment. It's quite unique."

Erland's eyes sparkled with appreciation as he looked at his parents. "Thank you, Mother, Father" he said, his voice filled with warmth. "I wouldn't be here without you."

Erland's eyes gleamed with a rare appreciation as he looked at his parents. "Thank you, Mother, Father," he said, his voice steady yet warm. "Your guidance got me here."

Varian chuckled softly, glancing back towards the courtyard where Thalia stood, her expression unreadable. "I saw you talking with Thalia earlier. She seemed interested in your blade. Anything we should know, son?"

Erland's cheeks tinged slightly as he looked away, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Just catching up, Father. Nothing more."

Alia raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Varian. "Catching up, huh? She was practically glowing when she saw you," she said, her tone teasing but with an edge of realism. "Just remember, it's not just the blade she admires."

Erland cleared his throat, maintaining his composure. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

Suddenly, a shadow fell across the heavens, a darkness that grew as a ship emerged from hyperspace, its ethereal solar sails folding back still sucking the power from the system’s sun. The silhouette an ominous beast of metal against the backdrop of the stars. And then another followed, and another, until the sky was blotted with the shapes of an invading fleet.

The courtyard fell into chaos as alarms blared, slicing through the silence that had settled in. Varian's heart thundered in his chest, a mirror to the pandemonium that erupted around them. Warriors clad in the armor of the Veyd moved towards the city with their noctran in hand.

Common soldiers of the Galactic Alliance rushed to their positions, their commanders loudly barking orders. The soldiers quickly set up energy barriers, turrets, and traps, manned the artillery and taking control of the Anti-Siege engines. Fighters flew to the sky to engage the enemy ships, their solar sails folded like cloaks billowing in the wind behind them.

Varian and Alia exchanged a look, no words needed to be said. With a heavy heart, Varian gripped his blade, quickly activating it, its white glow illuminating the dark. He gazed at Alia, her golden blade already in hands, her face etched with determination.

“Father, what is happening?” asked Erland with curiosity and fear in his voice “What should we do?”.

“They are attacking the Sanctuary”, his gaze turned to his son “You are a Paladin now, you must fight, all of us must” he said, before turning towards the other Veyds.

As he rallied his troops, his voice was steady, imbued with the strength of generations who had stood before him.

"This is our sanctuary, our home," Varian proclaimed, his eyes blazing with an unwavering resolve. "We stand as guardians. For our people, for our legacy, we fight!"

The Veyd roared in unison, their faces etched with resolve and determination. As the Paladins marched towards the walls, Varian could see his son’s apprehension giving way to determination, his grip tightening on the noctran handle as he took the first steps.

“Alia, Erland. I will need you here”, said Varian, his gaze focused on the gates.

“What will you have us do?”, asked Alia, her voice calm and yet fierce.

“We must make sure the civilians are evacuated, the walls are properly fortified, hold off the siege for as long as we can. And I need to warn the Veyd Elder Council.”

Erland scanned the surroundings, searching for any advantage they could exploit in the face of the impending siege.

“We should…” Erland started, however, before he could finish it, his gaze shifted towards the sky “Look out!” he screamed.

As Erland's warning pierced the air, all eyes turned skyward just in time to witness transport ships engulfed in smoke and flames hurling down towards the sanctuary grounds with terrifying speed.

The ground quaked as the ships crashed into the earth with a deafening roar, sending plumes of smoke and debris billowing into the air. Varian, Alia, and Erland staggered under the shockwave, their senses reeling from the impact.

Before they could fully comprehend the devastation before them, the twisted metal hull of the crashed starship began to groan and shudder. With a spine-chilling screech, the hull split open, revealing a horde of Draethar warriors clad in ornate black armor and helmets, emerged from within, their noctran blades gleaming with malevolent intent.

No words were said as the paladins ignited their blades in response, the members of the order quickly positioning themselves, waiting for the attack. “Form a line!”, said Varian, his voice cutting through the chaos.

As the Draethar charged forward with bloodcurdling cries, The Veyd steeled themselves for the battle to come. Varian glanced at Alia and Erland, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. With a nod, they stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to defend their sanctuary against the relentless onslaught of the enemy.

The clash of blades echoed through the courtyard as the Veyd engaged the Draethar warriors in a fierce melee. Each strike was met with a counterattack, each movement a dance of death and defiance.

Varian fought with a ferocity born of desperation, his white blade flashing through the air as he repelled blow after blow. Beside him, Alia moved with grace and precision, her golden blade cutting through the enemy ranks with deadly accuracy.

Erland fought with a newfound determination; his fear transformed into courage as he battled alongside his parents. With each swing of his blade, he defended his home and his people with unwavering resolve.

Despite their skill and bravery, the Draethar proved to be formidable opponents, their strength and ferocity unmatched. Each warrior fought with a savage intensity, casting their devastating dark arcana with precision. Each flame cast met a paladin, burning them. Each strike of their noctran, a life felled.

The battle raged on; the defenders of the sanctuary pushed to their limits as they fought against the tide of darkness. Alia used the telekinesis to push and crush the invaders, Varian’s lightning bolts met their mark, the arcane electricity, quicky jumping from one enemy to the other.

Despite his inexperience, Erland engaged in a fierce duel with a seasoned Draethar warrior, their noctran clashing in a symphony of crackling energy. With each exchange, Erland struggled to keep up, his movements lacking the finesse of his more experienced adversarie. Sensing an opportunity, he feigned a stumble, luring the Draethar into overcommitting to a strike. In that split second, Erland seized the advantage, pulling the enemy with his arcana and delivering a swift slash to his opponent's neck.

As the chaos of battle swirled around them, Varian and Alia found themselves facing off against three formidable Draethar warriors. Their blades clashed with ferocious intensity, the air crackling with the energy of their strikes.

Varian moved with the grace of a seasoned warrior, his white blade an extension of his being, a blur of light, as he parried attack after attack from his opponent. With each movement, he sought out weaknesses in his foe's defenses, exploiting them with calculated precision.

Beside him, Alia fought with a fierce determination, her golden blade weaving a deadly dance of its own. She matched her opponent blow for blow, her movements fluid and precise as she sought to gain the upper hand.

Despite their skill and determination, the Draethar warriors proved to be formidable adversaries. Each strike they delivered was met with a swift counterattack, the combatants locked in a deadly dance of death and defiance.

Varian coordinated his attacks with Alia, with unspoken communication, they anticipated each other's movements, switching stances, complimenting attacks, and defending each other seamlessly.

With a well-timed parry, Varian created an opening for Alia, allowing her to deliver a devastating blow to one of their opponents, slashing across his chest and head with a single strike, the Draethar warrior’s helmet soared in the sky as his body fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

Varian continued to hold his ground against the two-remaining adversary, his determination unwavering despite the odds stacked against him. With each exchange, he tried to press his advantage, yet his opponents did not yield, delivering ferocious flurries of attacks fueled by their bloodlust.

Erland quickly jumped to help his father, his strike being quickly parried by the Draethar’s blade, however, this distraction opened a small breach on his guard, allowing Varian to stab him through the back.

The other warrior lunged at Varian, the Veyd master reacted with lightning-fast reflexes, sidestepping the attack, and delivering a powerful counterstrike with his white noctran blade. The blade sliced through the air with precision, finding its mark as it pierced the enemy's chest.

With a guttural roar, the Draethar warrior staggered backward, falling lifelessly on the ground. Varian gazed at his son, his face still betraying hints of fear “Thanks, you did well”, said the Veyd master. Erland nodded in response, no words coming out of his mouth.

As the battle raged on, the arrival of Alliance soldiers brought a small glimmer of hope to the defenders of the sanctuary. Utilizing automated defenses and strategic positioning, the Alliance soldiers managed to gain a foothold in the courtyard, repelling the initial wave of Draethar attackers with a barrage of concentrated fire.

Alia quickly rejoined her family, as a human soldier quickly approached Varian, standing in front of him. His face grizzled and hardened, his armor old and yet well maintained, displaying his rank and squadron “Master Varian” he said, his voice raspy “You must retreat to the temple, there…”.

Before the human commander could finish his sentence, a bullet pierced his head, tearing out part of it, sending bones, brains, and blood across the sky and into Varian’s face. The Veyd’s eyes quickly shifted to the attacker, seeing imperial legionaries and Draethar on top of the walls.

“Retreat, we must go back inside!”, exclaimed Varian as he raised his hands, using his arcana to hold the volley of projectiles in the air. His voice quickly cutting through the chaos and making his family move back to the halls.

Varian repelled the projectiles back to the invaders, before quickly rushing back to the halls. The gates closing after him.

Inside the halls, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with the scent of fear and death. Veyd Paladins and Alliance Troopers hurriedly barricaded the entrances, fortifying their defenses against the relentless onslaught outside. Varian's gaze swept over the halls, taking in the wounded and dead soldiers littering the floors. Scared civilians huddled together, their cries and silent prayers echoing through the air, as the few remaining Paladins tried to offer any kind of solace.

Amidst the chaos, Thalia Veynar appeared, her face etched with worry as she ran towards Erland.

"Erland!" Thalia called, rushing to his side. "Are you alright?"

Erland nodded, breathing heavily. "I'm fine. Just a scratch."

Thalia's eyes scanned him, her concern clear. "You always say that. Just... be careful, okay?"

Erland managed a small smile. "I will. Thanks, Thalia."

“Thalia,” Varian intervened, his tone calm despite the chaos. “Where are the masters?”

“I… I don’t know,” she answered, her voice trembling with fear.

Varian rested his hand on her shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, girl. Me and Alia can handle this. Go find the Paladins and wait for further instructions.”

Thalia turned to Erland, her eyes filled with worry and desperation. “Erl…”

“It’s alright. We’ll be joining you shortly,” Alia said in a soothing tone.

Thalia nodded reluctantly, glancing one last time at Erland before turning away and running towards the other Veyd.

The sense of urgency and chaos was palpable. Varian's eyes followed Thalia for a moment, before turning to his wife, “We must make sure that no knowledge remains in our databanks”, his voice was solemn, echoing unsaid words. Alia gazed at him, a quiet understanding passing between them. “We will hold them off while you prepare everything” he said.

Before Alia started moving, he grabbed her arm and kissed her lips “I love you” he whispered, letting her depart.

“What should we do, father?” asked Erland, his blade still in hands.

“For now, lick your wounds, we will buy your mother and the others some time”, he answered. Varian walked towards one of the Paladins, a wounded Valtarian, his head crest was broken and bleeding “Paladin, what is your name?”.

“Tar… Tarkus, master” he answered, his voice adorned with pain.

Varian put his hand on Tarkus’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes “Tarkus, I need you to take another Paladin and escort the civilians and young apprentices out of here. Keep them safe.”, his gazed turned to the wounded soldiers and Veyd for a brief moment, before turning back to Tarkus “Can I trust you?”

“Of course, master” answered the Valtorian, before quickly running towards another Paladin and organizing the wounded.

As Varian and Erland sought a moment of respite amid the chaos, they retreated to a secluded corner of the hall, he gazed once more at his son, his heart mixed with pride and sorrow.

"Father, what... what are we going to do?" Erland's voice wavered with uncertainty as he looked to Varian for guidance, his youthful face etched with concern.

“Listen, boy” Varian started “the Acaronians have a fleet just in orbit, if they wished, our entire planet could be destroyed, but we are still here, so they must be after something.” He took a deep breath.

“But…” Erland started; his eyes widened.

“Your mother will purge every record, every text and every teaching we have”, Varian interjected. “The Veyd are no more, at least not in this sector, and you must face this truth, our order will not withstand this onslaught”.

The reality of their predicament started to sink in the boy’s mind. "But... but we can't just abandon it," he protested, his voice tinged with desperation. “We must call in reinforcements.”

Varian placed a hand on Erland’s shoulder, his touch trying to bring reassurance amidst the turmoil “There are no reinforcements.” His voice was somber “Not this time”.

Erland's jaw clenched with determination as he nodded in understanding, his resolve strengthening with his father's words. "What can I do to help, father?" he asked, his voice firm with newfound resolve.

Varian offered his son a solemn smile, pride swelling within him at Erland's unwavering bravery. "We must buy your mother and the others as much time as possible," he replied, his gaze flickering with determination. "Prepare yourself, Erland. The battle is far from over, and our strength will be needed."

As they steeled themselves for the inevitable onslaught, father and son stood shoulder to shoulder, their blades at the ready.

The defenders quickly jumped into position as the gates rumbled and roared, a deafening crash reverberated through the halls as the sanctuary's gates buckled under the relentless assault of the enemy.

With a splintering roar, of fire and shrapnel the gates gave way, unleashing a tide of Draethar warriors and Imperial soldiers into the heart of the sanctuary. Varian and Erland tensed, their noctran blades at the ready as they prepared to face the enemy head-on.

The hall erupted into chaos as the invaders poured inside, their dark arcana crackling with malevolent energy as they advanced with ruthless intent. Draethar warriors clashed with Veyd defenders, their blades meeting in a storm of chaos and arcane. The soldiers shooting at each other, no strategies, or plans, only the desperate fight for survival.

Varian and Erland fought side by side, their movements fluid and precise as they cut through the common soldiers of the empire, their blades shimmering in the air, their arcane repelling the enemy.

As the chaos of battle engulfed the sanctuary's halls, Varian and Erland stood firm against the onslaught, their noctran blades flashing with deadly precision.

Imposing Draethar warriors emerged from the throng of invaders, their dark armor gleaming in the flickering light. Varian and Erland braced themselves for the impending confrontation, their resolve unwavering in the face of overwhelming odds.

With a fierce battle cry, the Draethar charged forward, their noctran blades crackling with dark energy. Varian and Erland met their adversaries head-on, their blades clashing in the symphony of battle.

Varian's white blade danced through the air with expert precision, each strike calculated and deliberate. He parried the Draethar's attacks with fluid grace, his movements a testament to his years of training and experience.

Beside him, Erland fought with a youthful vigor, his dark brown hair tousled as he met the enemy head-on. Despite his inexperience, his determination was evident in every swing of his blade, his eyes ablaze with fierce determination.

One of the warriors lunged at Varian with ferocious speed, his blade slashing through the air with deadly intent. Varian met the attack with a swift parry, the clash of their weapons ringing out in the crowded hall. With a quick counterstrike, Varian's blade sliced through the defenses, finding its mark with lethal accuracy.

As the first Draethar warrior fell, another took his place, quickly using his telekinesis to throw the body at Varian. The Veyd quickly dodged, sliding through the air and slashing the warrior at his legs, separating it from his boy.

Erland engaged another Draethar with a flurry of strikes, his movements fueled by adrenaline and determination. But the Draethar's strength was formidable, his blood red blade flashing as he pressed the attack.

With a surge of dark arcana, the Draethar unleashed a powerful wave of energy, pushing Erland backward with staggering force. The young Paladin stumbled and fell to the ground, his Noctran blade slipping from his grasp as he struggled to regain his footing.

Trying to aid his son, Varian engaged the warrior, recklessly attacking him. The Draethar quickly parried his attacks, his attention completely focused on the Veyd master.

Seizing the opportunity, Erland reached for the fallen gun of a nearby soldier, his fingers closing around the cold metal with determination. With a steady hand, he raised the weapon and fired at the Draethar, his shots ringing out with deadly precision.

But the Draethar, undeterred by the onslaught, halted the bullets mid-flight with a flick of his wrist, his dark arcana bending the very fabric of reality to his will. Erland's expression hardened with determination as he continued to fire, his resolve unshaken in the face of adversity.

Seeing an opening on the warrior’s defense, Varian quickly slashed through the distracted warrior, his white blade connecting to his waist and severing the Draethar in two, his upper body falling to one side, while the lower to the other.

“Twice now” said Erland, his breath labored.

“What?” asked Varian as he helped his son get up.

“We’ve done this twice”, said the boy as he grabbed onto his blade once again.

“We better not make a habit”, answered Varian, as his eyes shifted to another approaching Draethar.

Alia emerged from the shadows above, her golden Noctran blade flashing with radiant light as she descended upon the approaching warrior. With a swift and decisive strike, she dispatched the enemy with a single blow, her blade singing through the air with unmatched grace.

“It is done, the databanks have been purged and the charges are set to detonate” she said, gazing at her husband “We better leave, while there is a chance”.

“Agreed” said Varian “We will go through the tunnels; it is our best choice”.

However, before they could move, Varian's heart sank as he surveyed the remaining defenders, his gaze falling upon the fallen warriors who had valiantly fought to defend their sanctuary. The once bustling halls now lay silent, save for the faint echoes of battle that still lingered in the air.

Suddenly, the Draethar stopped, unmoving and unflinching as they silently watched. The remaining defenders starred at them, Varian could see their heavy breathing, feel tiredness.

A foreboding figure advanced with deliberate, heavy steps that resonated through the halls, a Draethar Lord, a towering presence shrouded in dark armor that seemed to swallow the light. His approach was imbued by silent dread, an unmistakable aura of malevolence emanating from his every move. He ignited his noctran, the blade shrieked as if in pain.

“Varian Lyronius de Corvan” he said, his voice, a dark cacophony of noise, booming through the halls “Your line of traitors ends here.”

The remaining Veyds quickly jumped into action, attacking him from all sides, yet, with a quick move and slash of his sword, he laid waste to the final bastion of defenders, their forms collapsing to the ground lifelessly.

Alia's grip tightened on her Noctran blade as she exchanged a somber glance with her husband.

"Alia, Erland," Varian's voice was heavy with emotion as he turned to his family, "you two must leave. Find somewhere safe, I will buy enough time."

“You are insane if you think I am leaving you now” said Alia, her blade ignited. “I will not leave your side”.

“No, you will…” Varian started.

“Shut it, we lived good lives, the best we could” she interjected.

Erland's eyes widened with disbelief as he realized the gravity of his parents' words. "But... I can't just leave you both here," he protested, his voice filled with anguish.

Alia stepped forward, her expression soft yet resolute. "You must, my son. We will buy you as much time as we can, but you must escape while you still can. Find your brothers and contact the order."

Tears welled up in Erland's eyes as he looked between his parents, refusing to leave them.

Varian placed a hand on Erland's shoulder, his touch firm yet gentle. "You are our son, our legacy," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "You must carry on in our stead. Make us proud."

“I love you two so much” said Erland with a heavy hearth.

“And we you”, both said “Now go, find the rest of our family, warn the Veyd. Do not let this be forgotten”.

With a heavy heart, Erland nodded, his resolve strengthened by his parents' words. "I will," he promised, his voice barely above a whisper.

As Erland turned to leave, Varian and Alia shared a final, glance, their love and pride shining through despite the impending danger. With a silent nod, they turned to face the approaching Draethar Lord, their Noctran blades ignited with determination.

The Draethar Lord wasted no time, launching a relentless assault. Varian and Alia fought valiantly, their blades meeting the Draethar's strikes with precision and skill. But the enemy's dark arcana imbued his attacks with formidable strength, pushing the Veyd defenders back with each clash.

The duel began with a flurry of strikes and parries, Varian and Alia moving in perfect harmony as they engaged the Draethar Lord. Varian's blade danced through the air with precision and power, each strike aimed at exploiting weaknesses in the enemy's defenses. Alia, her golden blade a beacon of light amidst the chaos, matched her husband blow for blow, her movements fluid and graceful.

The Draethar Lord countered with a barrage of dark arcana, his attacks fueled by a malevolent energy that crackled with power. Varian and Alia deflected the incoming blasts with practiced ease. But the enemy's relentless assault soon began to take its toll, pushing the Veyd defenders into a defensive stance.

Varian saw an opening and seized the opportunity, launching a series of lightning-fast strikes at the Draethar Lord's exposed flank. His blade sliced through the air with lethal precision, but the enemy was quick to retaliate, deflecting Varian's attacks with a skillful display of swordsmanship.

“I expected more”, said the Draethar as he summoned dark flames from his hands.

The fires quickly engulfed Varian, burning his skin and armor, making him loose balance and fall to the ground, unable to regain his footing. The Veyd could see the Draethar’s noctran quickly approaching in a wild arch.

However, Alia quickly jumped in, engaging the Draethar in a deadly dance of her own, her movements fluid and precise as she sought to exploit any weaknesses in the enemy's defenses.

Varian took the opportunity and healed his wounds, before jumping back into the duel, complimenting his wife’s style with his own technique. With each strike, they aimed to keep the enemy off balance, forcing him to split his focus between the two.

But the Draethar Lord was a formidable opponent, maintaining his pace and overwhelming the two with his sheer brutality and relentless onslaught. With a surge of dark energy, he unleashed a devastating counterattack, catching Alia off guard and sending her flying through the air with a powerful telekinetic blast.

Varian's heart sank as he watched his wife crash to the ground, her form lying motionless amidst the chaos. With a primal roar of rage, he launched himself at the Draethar Lord, his Noctran blade slashing through the air with lethal intent. But before he could land a blow, the enemy countered with a powerful telekinetic wave that sent Varian hurtling through the courtyard gates with bone-crushing force.

Varian crashed through the courtyard gates with a resounding thud, his body skidding across the ground. Pain shot through his limbs as he struggled to his feet, his muscles protesting against the onslaught they had endured.

The Draethar emerged from the shattered gates, his dark silhouette casting a menacing shadow over the courtyard.

Varian gritted his teeth, his determination unwavering despite the odds stacked against him. With a defiant roar, he charged at the Draethar. The two opponents clashed with a deafening clash of energy, their blades ringing out like a symphony of war.

At every opportunity, the Draethar proved to be a formidable adversary, his strength and agility far surpassing Varian's own. With each strike, he pushed Varian back, his dark arcana crackling with malevolent energy. But Varian refused to back down, his resolve fueling his every move.

Their duel raged on, the courtyard echoing with the sounds of their clash. Varian fought with a ferocity born of desperation, upon realizing that his opponent was not tired, merely playing with him, his every strike finding a weakness in the Veyd’s form.

With a sudden burst of speed, the Draethar Lord launched a series of rapid strikes at Varian, each blow aimed at wearing down his defenses. Varian parried the incoming attacks with skillful precision, but he could feel his strength waning with each passing moment.

In a split second, Varian spotted an opening in the Lord's defenses. With a swift and decisive strike, he aimed a powerful blow at his opponent's exposed flank, his blade slicing through the air with lethal intent.

The sword hummed with energy, almost finding its mark, however the Draethar quickly dodged out of the way and in a swift motion, he retaliated with a devastating blow of his own, his Noctran blade slicing through the air with deadly precision.

Varian staggered backwards, the strike only reaching his plated chest, slicing the armor. His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to regain his footing. The Draethar Lord advanced with predatory grace, as he prepared to deliver the final blow.

With a burst of adrenaline-fueled determination, Varian lunged forward, but before he could land the killing blow, the Draethar Lord unleashed a powerful telekinetic wave that sent Varian hurtling through the air once more, his body crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and pain.

As Varian struggled to rise from the ground, his vision blurred from the impact, yet, he watched as Alia jumped through the gates, her sword ignited with radiant light ready to strike.

However, the Draethar was ready, his dark arcana swirling around him as he prepared to meet her head-on. With lightning-fast reflexes, he deflected Alia's initial strike, his blade meeting hers with a resounding clash.

Their duel was a blur of motion and fury, the courtyard echoing with the sound of their clash. Alia fought with a grace and skill that belied her years, her every movement a testament to her strength and determination.

However, the Draethar was relentless, his attacks overwhelming her, the duel no more than a play. With each strike, he pushed Alia back, wearing down her defenses with relentless precision.

Despite her best efforts, Alia found herself outmatched by the Draethar Lord's superior strength and agility. With a sudden burst of speed, he launched a rapid series of strikes at her, each blow aimed at finding a weakness in her defenses.

Yet, Varian managed to muster his strength to use his powers once more, quickly holding the enemy in place, his guard vulnerable for a strike. Alia quickly took advantage of the situation, her blade singing in the air as the Draethar tried to break his arcane bounds.

Her strike connected as he broke free from his arcane prison. Unable to fully parry the attack, Alia’s blade quickly slashed through his hand. Yet, he did no flinch, igniting his sword and engaging her once more.

Alia summoned all of her strength and unleashed a powerful telekinetic wave at her opponent. But the Draethar Lord was ready, deflecting her attack with ease and launching a devastating counterstrike that sent Alia staggering backward.

Varian could only watch in horror as his wife fell to the ground, her golden noctran blade clattering to the stone pavement beside her. With a heavy heart, he struggled to his feet, his body battered and bruised from the battle.

"Alia..." Varian's voice was choked with emotion as he rushed to her side, his hands trembling as he cradled her in his arms. But it was too late. Alia's eyes were glazed with pain as she gazed up at him, a faint smile touching her lips.

"Varian..." Her voice was barely a whisper as she reached out to him, her hand trembling in his grasp. "I’m…"

Tears welled up in Varian's eyes as he leaned down to kiss her forehead, his heart breaking at the sight of his beloved wife slipping away from him. With a final, shuddering breath, Alia's eyes closed, her hand falling limply from his grasp.

Varian could only watch in anguish as his wife's lifeless form lay before him, the hilt of her bade blade lying beside her. With a heavy heart, he rose to his feet, his grief fueling his determination to avenge her death.

With a roar of rage and grief, Varian launched himself at the Draethar Lord, his Noctran blade flashing with renewed determination. With each strike, he unleashed his fury upon his opponent, his blows fueled by a burning desire for vengeance.

The Draethar Lord staggered back under the ferocity of Varian's assault, his dark armor ringing with the force of each blow. With a swift and precise strike, Varian aimed for the Draethar's head, his blade finding its mark with deadly accuracy.

The Draethar let out a guttural roar of pain as Varian's blade struck true, tearing through the armor, and gouging out one of his eyes.

Varian's gaze fixed upon the figure before him—an Acaronian, his skin a tapestry of deep crimson and black crevices that seemed to pulse with the lifeblood of his fierce lineage and a burning slash across where the blade hit. Protrusions crowned his head like jagged peaks, and his smoldering coal-like eye. He opened a smile, revealing jagged teeth.

“This is the fight I was promised,” the Acaronian declared, his voice a dark symphony of confidence.

“And your name, vermin?” Varian demanded, his tone ice. “The name of the beast who took her from me”.

The Acaronian's laugh was low and cruel. “Eager to know the name of the one who will be your end? The slayer of your beloved pet?” A pause, a smirk wider. “I am Ba’lek,” he boasted, each syllable laced with pride.

“Good,” Varian retorted, his voice steady as steel, “Ba’lek will be etched into the ruins of your world once I’m done with you.”

“No, traitor. It is your lineage that will be snuffed out today, not mine.”

“Then make your move, cur.”

With a snarl of fury, the Draethar retaliated, summoning his dark arcana in a swirling vortex of black flames. But this time, Varian was ready. With a quick and decisive motion, he deflected the Draethar's attack, redirecting the flames back towards their source.

The flames engulfed Ba’lek, his armor melting and warping under the intense heat, yet the Acaronian did not yield, ignoring the damage, relentlessly fighting back. Varian tried to press any advantage, launching a relentless barrage of strikes at his weakened foe, each blow fueled by rage, pain, and grief.

Yet, with a surge of energy, the Draethar unleashed a powerful counterattack, his blows striking with lethal precision. Varian fought back with all his strength, but the pain and exhaustion began to take their toll.

With a final, devastating blow, Ba’lek knocked Varian to the ground, his blade clattering from his grasp. As Varian struggled to rise, the Draethar loomed over him.

But Varian refused to surrender. With a defiant roar, he summoned the last of his strength and launched himself at his foe, his fists striking out with desperate fury. Yet, Ba’lek deflected the attack, quickly clutching the Veyd by the neck.

With a swift and merciless stroke, the Draethar delivered a fatal blow to Varian, his blade piercing through his chest with chilling finality.

As Varian's body fell to the ground, his vision began to fade, his thoughts turning to his beloved wife and son. With his strength waning and his vision fading, Varian crawled across the courtyard, his body racked with pain and exhaustion. He could see the Acaronian entering the halls once more.

As he reached his fallen wife's side, Varian's hand closed around the detonator she had, his fingers trembling with determination. With a final, defiant gesture, he pressed the button, triggering the explosives that would destroy the sanctuary and all within it.

The sanctuary erupted in a blinding flash of light and heat, the force of the explosion tearing through the air with devastating power. Varian shielded his eyes from the glare, his heart heavy with sorrow and regret.

As the flames consumed the sanctuary, Varian's gaze lingered on his beloved wife's lifeless form. With tears in his eyes, he reached out to touch her face one last time, his fingers brushing against her cold skin.

"Forgive me, my love," his voice barely a whisper. "I could not protect you, I hope… Erland… will save…"

With a heavy heart, Varian closed his eyes as the sanctuary collapsed around him, engulfing everything that stood inside. In his final moments, his thoughts turned to his sons and his family, as he smiled one last time.