The warriors manage to hold the creatures back from entering the territory, but it is not clean and it is not controlled, because the clash at the south border leaves the ground torn and smoking in places while the air crackles with energy that refuses to settle.
The earth splits slightly along the border line where the pressure peaks, and I watch from a distance as a jagged crack rips through the soil and snaps one of the main powerlines in two, sending a shower of sparks into the dark sky before everything flickers and dies.
The lights across the territory go out in uneven waves.
Houses fall into shadow.
The only illumination left comes from the red moon hanging overhead and the faint pulse that still hums through my veins, and the darkness that follows is not peaceful but stretched
