I could see everything. Every building in the city, every skyship in the air. Every soul of every soldier, demon, and civilian. My aura stretched beyond the city across the Radian Plains to the walls of the Divine Throne, and just as far in the opposite direction. Enusian fate entwined with the stars of my aura, becoming one cohesive domain.
Luke's horde was so vast I felt only fragments of it, but him, I found battling beneath the shadow of the walls. Soltair fought him with Solaria at his side, and a ninth-level warrior I vaguely remembered from the visions of various war councils. A paladin of the church, wielding a flanged mace and holy light.
Luke's curses writhed everywhere, branching through the air like living roots. He wore a grim expression and bled from several cuts and wounds. Sunpurge glittered behind a gash in his robe, and every time he parried Soltair's sword, he winced, favoring that arm.
