Suddenly, a figure appeared in the air above the destruction in the Aethelosian camp. A small dot from Althea's distance, but still visible. Normally, the figure wouldn't have drawn much attention compared to the chaos happening below, but the manner in which they appeared — out of nowhere, in the blink of an eye — made Althea and the Feraxians in the air tense visibly.
"Who's that?" the young Feraxian Lord asked. But his question was met with silence as the other Lords stared intently at that figure with wide-eyed expressions.
"Move!" Malakor roared, veering abruptly downwards and to the left with his tamed beast.
The other Lords were a beat slower, but they reacted as quickly as they could, scattering from the close circle formation where they had previously hovered. Althea's reaction was also quick, the communication between her and her Echo Strider soul mass near-instant.
They had barely scattered when a black mass clawed the air where they'd just occupied.
