Four strangers. Four strangers stood outside Nazia, Zavi’s
Vernadi. Just four people, yet they seemed to completely surround the new
settlement, forming a barrier with their dark and foreboding auras.
Then, without warning all four stormed the outer wall. To
the north, a dark poison swept across the thorny, woven perimeter and wilted
the barricade. The south sector burned with a bright and chaotic flame. The
western wall seemed to part before the attacker and die, shriveling and turning
from a bright and jovial green to brown like the dirt it grew from. The wall to
west was easily hacked apart by the fourth stranger using long, golden
whip-like weapons with curved blades on the end, the weapon of an assassin.
Zavi now understood the grim circumstances of the day. “Begin
a Conclave Call, now!” he ordered his top men who stood beside him. Only
seconds later did the surrounding area boom with the voices of the Vernadi’s
inhabitants, an ominous yet powerful song cutting through the air. Zavi, from
atop the highest limb on the tree, began to work his magic.
The roots that formed the inner wall immediately rose from
the ground, fueled by Zavi and the Call below him, and wrapped themselves
around the intruders. Slowly constricting and rising, slowly killing the ones
that tried to harm the city and its living center. With a final boom, the roots
crashed to the ground, had the Selesnyans’ voices not been so loud, making four
sickening crunches.
Satisfied that the threat was gone, Zavi reformed the inner
wall and put a silence to the din of voices.
Time to address my
people and console them that the threat is gone and we are safe. But Are we
really?
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