Hurling herself sideways, she slams onto grassy ground as the funnel punches down beside her in an earsplitting boom. Rapidly rolling away, then springing to a crouch, she breathlessly takes in the dark column before her. Tendrils of undulating Shadow are rapidly branching from it to form another gigantic Shadow tree. Mouth agape, Valasca cranes her neck and scans the ghoulish canopy fanning out high above.

Disoriented, she rises, carefully advancing through the whirling fog. Her focus zeroes in on the screams of women and children sounding up ahead amidst ground-shaking explosions, their cries in a multitude of languages as broken dragons blast through the Shadow canopy.

The next thoughts flash through Valasca’s mind in staccato jabs. How much time has passed since Lukas Grey threw me into the partially charged portal? Where is Vogel? Where is Elloren? Where am I?

Her thoughts cast about for purchase as she tightens her grip on her blades. “Elloren?” she calls into the tendriling fog, to no response.

More screams, one a child’s at closer range.

Valasca breaks into a sprint toward the sound, darting around huge Shadow trees and down an incline. She emerges from the denser portion of Shadow forest, the fog thinning as she’s met with an expansive view of the huge, Shadow-tree-riddled valley.

Her lungs seize, a light-headed whoosh flashing over her.

Sweet Goddess, I’m in Amazakaraan.

With a horrified sweep of her gaze, she takes in the bizarre Shadow-forest canopy hanging over the city, Amazakaraan’s protective runic dome gone.

Dragons are streaming in, the Mages on their backs throwing bolt after bolt of dark, silver-spitting fire at her city, the explosions like knife-strikes to Valasca’s heart. She can just make out almost uniformly grayed Amaz soldiers in the distance as they attempt to do battle with the incoming Mages, the usual glow from their runic bows and blades gone.

Valasca flinches again as a cacophony of darkened Magefire slams down from multiple attackers, all streaking toward the Central Plaza’s mammoth goddess sculpture, Amazakaraan’s most revered religious image. The Goddess explodes with a thunderous bang, the beautiful statue rendered to a smoking pile of rubble.

A vicious expletive erupts from Valasca’s throat as she fists her blades tighter and makes for the plaza.

“Mum’yi!”

The little girl runs toward Valasca through the narrow street’s Shadow fog, screaming in Elfhollen for her mother. Decimated buildings crackle with silvery-gray fire all around as Valasca accelerates toward the child, her heart giving a hard wrench as she recognizes her.

Inge. Sylvi’s child. Not more than four years old.