As he carried Tin’lo towards the canyon, Tu’lar noticed him suddenly tense up, despite his exhaustion. After a few seconds, he noticed Tin’lo was so tense that he wasn’t breathing.

“How’s the blood loss? You still awake?” Tu’lar asked. Tin’lo, frozen in fear at the sight of the massive flying beast coming their way, jolted and gasped out, “Run faster!! There’s an eclipse!!”

Beneath him, Tu’lar’s back tensed as he responded, pushing himself even faster than before. Despite the throbbing in his head and the blood still seeping from the stump at his elbow, Tin’lo was grimly satisfied to be moving faster. With stability in mind, he pushed past the blackness creeping in around the edges of his vision in order to remain conscious and keep himself balanced so that he wouldn’t hamper Tu’lar. Even during normal circumstances a stumble could be a death sentence, but it was even more dangerous now.

“Stay awake,” Tu’lar ordered Tin’lo, squeezing his leg as he hauled him forwards. Tin’lo could hear anxiousness slip into his voice.

“I’m awake, Tu. Thanks.” Tin’lo softly spoke to Tu’lar, shaking his head to keep from passing out. Tu’lar smiled and ran across a branch straight toward the canyon wall.

Only one way to go, and that’s forward!

As the branch ended Tu’lar lined up with the next below and stepped down toward it. The branch was approaching fast and Tu’lar gripped Tin’lo’s leg hard to keep him in place just before he landed, still running.

Thu’lain noticed Tu’lar and Tin’lo passing under him and searched the air above to see the eclipse.

So this is an eclipse. One of the beasts that had a hand in the fall.

Above, the eclipse pursued the elves with single-minded determination even as it knocked aside trees and devastated the Ar’ghul in droves, its mouth nothing more than a gaping cavern as dark as the blackest night.

The trees barely slow the creature. Can the Ar’ghul even harm it?

He snapped his attention forwards to the cliffside ahead and the narrow canyon that cut straight down its solid rock face, the darkness of the canyon became more inviting as he considered the death sentence being in the open would be. Ahead, he spotted Anar’dea looking up at the eclipse every chance she could, her wide eyes and pale skin making her fear clear; a quick glimpse at Trat’catha made it clear he felt the same.

Trat’catha’s hold on a javelin was so tight that the wood felt as though it would snap from the tension. Though he knew it would do nothing to the eclipse should it reach them, he couldn’t bear the thought of being unarmed when he thought of the last time he’d seen one.

The fires engulfed an eclipse, every inch covered in burning oil; it was so bright that it illuminated the other eclipse as they advanced on the outer walls.

Massive as the eclipse were, they still did not dwarf Anosora’s walls, though they came as a tide of flesh. They were being hit with boulders heaved from catapults, massive harpoons from ballista impaled their flying kind’s wings, and the natural torrents of ascending and descending winds made even the eclipse struggle to remain in control of their flight. On the rampart, the soldiers flung javelins that erupted into blinding lighting, overwhelming fire, caustic acid, and freezing blizzards. The arsenal I worked so tirelessly to craft would help to save my home, but they were only the expendables. The true masterpieces were held by our finest elites. I still remember the pride that welled up within me as we handedly weathered this wave. The smoldering, smoking, melting, and freezing carcasses left behind after the battle only served to renew my convictions: we would hold Anosora indefinitely and strike once our arsenal and army were well and truly ready. The walls held strong; we could push back this horde just as soon as our elites were ready to purge the apex. We had all the time we’d ever need in our beloved city.

I was foolish.

The onslaught never stopped. We were so arrogant and comfortable that we didn’t notice the changes; our weapons took longer to recover the magic they used as fuel, our kind were slower to birth than they had been in the past, and the masterpieces that the Season Smiths crafted - myself included - were inferior.

The sealing ritual had reached its tipping point, and we could no longer stop it from the Grey Realm. I understood the implications, but it wasn’t until the outer walls were breached that I was shocked from my complacency. The other Season Smiths were determined to make innovative weapons, to send our armies forth in a final clash to eradicate the apex, to spend the next century making the strongest force we could.

We were supposed to have several centuries before we’d lose the energy we relied on, though, I felt it was prudent to prepare for the worst. I crafted the cloaks of Anosora. I made sure our people could hide, and they were my greatest masterpieces. Mundanely magnificent. The most energy-efficient artifact in the elven armory, and we were able to mass-produce it. Almost every citizen had one for the emergency that was claimed could never happen - for when the walls completely fell. We were supposed to have centuries, but we ended up only having years; some phenomena or freak accident either used up or sealed away the final remnants of essence.

The fires rose once more, but this time they came from our homes, the eclipse washed over our defences and, without the magic we fueled our weapons with, we could not kill enough of them. I still smell the blood and rancid death sometimes. The eclipse stormed the city with dozens of apex at their heels. Anyone without a cloak died. They were chased down and torn to pieces until no one was left in our mass grave of a city.

Trat’catha breathed hard as he ran, leaping with reckless abandon through the canopy, not bothering to remain silent.

“Use your cloaks! It should buy us some time!” Trat’catha half-screamed. He looked at Thu’lain and a horrible realization came over him.

You don’t have one.

Options blurred through his mind at an intense rate and his grip on the javelin changed almost unconsciously.

No, spirits no!

He felt intensely nauseous and slid the javelin into its holster. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Thu’lain again and tried to focus on forging a path ahead.

Thu’lain ran forward after catching the look Trat’catha had had and seeing the javelin go back in the holster. He agreed with Trat’catha: there was no way they’d be able to fight something like that with a mere javelin. He felt a mighty shock ripple through the air as the trees behind collided during their fall. The cloaks began concealing the elves as they dashed through the canopy, making them hard to track, but not invisible.

It’s still going to charge straight through this area, but maintaining mental stability is still worth it.

The giant monstrosity devoured everything in its path and the Ar’ghul overseer wisely kept from direct engagement. Its warbling cry called the flock into action, causing them to rise up from below and descend from above and, with their all-consuming hunger, begin smothering the massive apex even as it refused to pay them any attention. The ringed mouths of the Ar’ghul clung onto the surface of the eclipse and could only be forcibly removed. Many of the amber eyes on the surface of the apex eagerly sought out the other elves, but several eyes locked solely on Thu’lain as it bore through the forest.

A splintered trunk of a tree fell within feet of Thu’lain and showered him in splinters that peppered any of his exposed skin, but he shielded his eyes and leapt away while trying to keep track of the forest around him as it fell.

It’s going to catch up.

Thu’lain twisted through the air, unsheathing his dagger and, with a flick, sent an illusory clone rushing off to the side, the dagger shining brightly for just a moment before concealing Thu’lain from sight. He continued rushing ahead, knowing that his time was limited.

I’m going to run out of power soon.

The illusion darted away at breakneck pace, but Thu’lain didn’t need it to match his actual speed, and had it going abnormally swiftly. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and, to his relief, he saw the eclipse turn towards the illusion and even speed up as if it were concerned it would lose its prey. A loud groan came from the eclipse as it banked almost ninety degrees.

The Ar’ghul remained clinging to the creature's hide and many were beginning to draw blood.

I wonder how long it would take for them to get through?

The illusion moved unnaturally through the canopy, but if the eclipse noticed, it did not care. The creature came lower to the ground and started to fold in its wings and weaved into areas that had less obstacles in its path when it was level with the illusion. Thu’lain released the invisibility that kept him hidden;, at this point it would more than be worth it to use the dagger’s remaining fuel to keep the illusion fleeing into the distance. Its speed increased with the adjustment, but it would still be only a matter of time until it gained on the clone.

For now, the crashing of the forest was receding into the distance and the others were reaching the canyon shelter, so Thu’lain started to descend from higher branches to gain speed as he fell. A few minutes later, a deep bellowing roar reverberated through Thu’lain’s bones and he turned his head just in time to see the eclipse surge forward with intense speed and swallow the illusion and everything that came between them. There was no chance for it to escape the jaws and the eclipse instantly realized its mistake and spun toward Thu’lain. His pulse raced and his ears pounded as he realized it was going to catch up to him in seconds - the eclipse was moving much faster than it had before

I should have kept the invisibility on.

“Get in now!” Thu’lain heard Trat’catha bellowing, even as he and Raj’ken dove into the canyon and continued fleeing deeper into the darkness. He could feel the earth shaking through the forest collapsing around him, the impacts sending shockwaves through his ears. He could hear nothing else but the booms of thousands of tons of wood colliding with one another and the earth below. He watched as Anar’dea fled into the canyon just behind Tin’lo and Tu’lar, their cloaks no longer rendering them invisible now; it seemed they were out of power.

In the next moment, they all heard a terrible roar, bellowing much as it had before, yet mixed with a grating shriek. Even as the forest toppled around, him Thu’lain turned his head to see: the eclipse was far too close for comfort, yet it flew erratically and crashed into many trees - gone was the hastened pace and controlled flight, instead replaced by maddened thrashing.

What’s happening?

Thu’lain sought an answer, looking between the next place he would leap and the eclipse, all the while moving out of the way of falling ancient trunks. The surface of the eclipse’s body looked riddled with pock marks, and smears of blood where an Ar’ghul was smashed into paste, but he also could see dozens of slender, long protrusions coming from the eclipse’s body.

What in the name of-

He watched as a protrusion retreated - no, dug deeper - into the body, obscuring itself from sight. In its place, a torrent of blood began to flow from the giant open wound.

Oh, spirits, the Ar’ghul are burrowing into it.

Thu’lain was equally fascinated and disturbed by the sight. He found himself torn between watching and making it to the canyon. The eclipse no longer sought the elves, and instead tore through the remaining airborn flock, twisting in the air as a serpent would swim. The Ar’ghul overseer flew higher, but its speed failed to match the eclipse’s and, without the forest surrounding it to slow the eclipse, the creature was overtaken in an instant The cracking and harrowing screams of the overseer were heard for just a moment over the din of the woods still falling.

The Ar’ghul already inside the eclipse did not stop their feast.

It looks like they’ve gotten quite deep.

If he’d had to compare the flowing blood now to what he’d considered a torrent before, it could be said that the earlier wounds were just a leak.

That’s a lot of blood.

“Thu! What are you waiting for!?” The angry voice of Trat’catha pierced the spectators' focus and Thu’lain finally fled into the canyon as the eclipse continued fruitlessly slamming into the forest in an effort to kill the Ar’ghul.

He came back to make sure I made it?

Finally, after minutes of running, they’d caught up to the rest of the group. The sounds of the world ending were finally far enough away as to not be heard and they stopped to catch their breath. Trat’catha glared at Thu’lain.

“What was so interesting that you had to stop?!” He kept his gaze locked on Thu’lain. For a moment, Thu’lain couldn’t understand what the problem was - he knew he’d been relatively safe while he was observing.

That’s not what he’s actually saying.

“I’m sorry I worried you.”

Trat’catha opened his mouth as if to rebuke him and caught himself before letting out a deep breath.

“. . . Fine. Just. Be careful.” Trat’catha sighed before turning away, leaving an opening for Raj’ken’s curiosity to be sated.

“No, but really, what’cha see?” Her voice was starting to return to normal, but there was a bit of shakiness to it that still hadn’t retreated.

“They ate it.”

Raj’ken laughed nervously as she asked, “No, really, what happened?”

Thu’lain just gave her a level look and let his words sink in and watched as she and Trat’catha turned a few shades paler.

“That’s so not right.” She just shook her head and took a seat against the wall of the canyon.

“Where were they during the fall? Sounds like it coulda been useful,” Raj’ken scoffed as she dug around her pack.

“We hunted them down to near extinction,” Tin’lo sighed as Tu’lar patched his wounds. They shared a resting silence after that. It wasn’t going to be long before sunup.