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Aedion roared from somewhere, from the
heart of hell, “Re-form the lines!”
The order went ignored.
The Bane tried and failed to hold the line.
Ansel of Briarcliff bellowed to her fleeing
men to get back to the front, Galan Ashryver
echoing her commands to his own soldiers.
Ren shouted to his archers to remain, but they
too abandoned their posts.
Lysandra slashed through the shins of one
Morath soldier, then ripped the throat from
another. None of Terrasen’s warriors
remained a step behind her to decapitate the
fallen bodies.
No one at all.
Over. It was over.
Useless, Aedion had called her.
Lysandra gazed toward the ilken feasting
on the right flank and knew what she had to
do.