The battlefield was eerily quiet, as if the earth itself was holding its breath after the storm of war. Davin stood over the fallen sorcerer, sword still in hand, watching the last flickers of life fade from the enemy’s eyes. The weight of everything that had just transpired seemed to press down on him—more than just the battle, but the weeks of struggle, the endless training, and the burden of responsibility that came with his newfound power.
Mira staggered to his side, breathing heavily. She wiped the blood from her brow and gave him a tired smile. "We did it," she said, her voice raw from exhaustion. "It’s over."
Davin looked at her, still unsure. "Is it? He said this was only the beginning."
She shook her head. "We’ve heard that before. From every villain, every enemy who thinks they’re bigger than they are. We’ve beaten them all, and we’ll beat whatever comes next."
Davin’s eyes lingered on the sorcerer’s body. There was a creeping sense of unease, but he tried to push it aside. "Maybe," he muttered. "But something feels different this time."
Mira sighed, sheathing her blades. "Can we just enjoy the win for a moment, Davin? Please?" She turned to the horizon where the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the blood-soaked field. "We’ve earned it."
The surviving soldiers, their allies, had begun to regroup, tending to the wounded and gathering their fallen. The victory was theirs, but the cost had been high. Davin could see it in the faces of those left standing—too many had not made it through the day.
As they walked through the battlefield, Davin spotted Marcus, leaning heavily on Lisa. Both were bloodied, but alive. Marcus gave him a grim nod, a look that spoke of shared understanding, of battles fought and lives lost.
"You’re still standing," Marcus grunted as Davin approached.
"Not by much," Davin replied with a tired smile. "How’s your arm?"
"Nothing that won’t heal," Marcus shrugged, though he winced as he moved. "But I’ll tell you, that was one hell of a fight. For a moment there, I didn’t think we were going to make it."
"We almost didn’t," Mira interjected. "If it hadn’t been for Davin’s magic, that sorcerer would’ve wiped us all out."
Davin shook his head. "It wasn’t just me. We all played a part."
Lisa, her eyes still sharp despite the exhaustion, stepped forward. "We may have won the battle, but this war isn’t over. That sorcerer wasn’t the only threat. The dark forces he commanded... they’re still out there."
Davin nodded, the weight of her words settling on his shoulders. "I know. And we’ll be ready for them when they come."
A silence fell over the group as they all turned to look at the fallen sorcerer one last time. The sense of victory was bittersweet, knowing that even though they had won today, the road ahead would be long and filled with more battles.
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the battlefield, a soft voice broke the silence.
"You don’t think this is truly over, do you?" a voice came from behind them.
Davin turned sharply, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. Standing a few feet away was an elderly man, cloaked in robes that shimmered in the fading light. His eyes glowed faintly, a sign of the power that radiated from him.
"Who are you?" Davin demanded, stepping forward cautiously.
The old man chuckled softly. "I am merely a messenger. One who has been watching your journey from afar."
Mira glanced at Davin, then back at the man. "What do you want?"
The man’s gaze settled on Davin, piercing and knowing. "I come with a warning. The sorcerer you have slain was but a pawn in a much larger game. The true threat has yet to reveal itself."
Davin frowned. "What do you mean? Who are we really up against?"
The man stepped closer, his expression grave. "The gods trained you for a reason, young one. You possess power that few in this world can even comprehend. But there are others—beings older and more powerful than you can imagine—who have taken notice of your actions. And they are not pleased."
Mira’s hand tightened on her blade. "Are you saying there’s something worse than that sorcerer coming?"
The man nodded solemnly. "Far worse. This war has only just begun, and you are at the center of it."
Davin’s heart sank. He had felt it in the pit of his stomach—this wasn’t the end. It was the beginning of something far greater, something darker.
"What do we do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The old man’s eyes gleamed with a hint of sadness. "Prepare. Gather your allies. Strengthen your bonds. For when the true darkness comes, you will need all the power you can muster. The fate of your world depends on it."
With those final words, the man turned and began to walk away, his form fading into the shadows as if he were never there.
Davin stood frozen, the weight of the prophecy sinking in. Mira stepped beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"We’ll face it together," she said firmly. "Whatever comes next, we’ll be ready."
He nodded, though his heart felt heavy with uncertainty. "Yeah," he said softly. "Together."
As the last light of day disappeared behind the mountains, the survivors began their slow march back to the fortress. The battle was over, but the war was far from done.
And in the distance, in the depths of the unknown, an ancient power stirred, waiting for its time to rise
End of Season 1