The First Strike

The Battle of Dawn

The first blow came before the light of day, as if the night itself had been stolen away. For weeks, the kingdom of Egtair had prepared for the worst, fortifying its borders, gathering its armies, and making plans to defend the land. But even with all the vigilance, nothing could have prepared them for the sheer ferocity of Kifo's assault.

The early morning was still and silent, the air hanging thick with the promise of something looming. In the village of Brightwater, Mira stood at her window, staring out over the quiet fields. The sight was peaceful, almost serene. But there was something in the air, a sensation she could not shake. It was as if the land itself was holding its breath.

In Ravair, the capital, King Zare was still deep in conversation with his advisors, discussing the latest reports from the northern border. General Kalmar had just returned from the frontlines with unsettling news. There had been no direct sighting of enemy forces, but something in the air—something about the way the birds had flown, the unnatural silence in the forests—suggested that Kifo's forces were already near. A sense of tension hung over the city, and even the usual bustle of Ravair felt muted, as if everyone could sense the storm that was coming.

Outside the palace, the wind shifted, rising into a sharp, biting gust. The distant rumble of thunder, unlike any natural storm, echoed through the streets. It was a sound of warning, an omen. A flash of lightning tore through the sky, painting the horizon with a jagged scar of light.

And then, as if on cue, the first strike was launched.

The Skies Darken

At the break of dawn, the first sign of Kifo's assault came not from the ground but from the skies. High above, blackened clouds gathered with unnatural speed, swallowing the early sunlight. The sun, which had begun to peek over the horizon, was soon obscured, as if the very light of day had been snuffed out. The birds that once flew freely across the skies were now cowering in the trees, their wings trembling with fear. The air itself seemed to thicken, pressing down upon the kingdom like an unseen weight.

Mira, standing in the square of Brightwater, felt her breath catch in her chest. The people around her looked up, their eyes wide with disbelief. The sky was turning black, an eerie, unnatural hue that cast long, ominous shadows across the land. The sound of distant thunder rolled through the air, but it was not the rumble of an ordinary storm. This felt different. It felt wrong.

In the distance, to the north, the mountains began to shudder. A great rumbling shook the earth beneath their feet, followed by a violent tremor that sent the villagers stumbling. Mira steadied herself, her heart pounding in her chest. The ground beneath her seemed alive, as if something dark and terrible was moving beneath the surface.

And then, from the clouds, came the first wave of Kifo's forces.

A black shape appeared in the sky, its form vast and shadowy, like a monstrous bird of prey. It moved with terrifying speed, cutting through the air with a scream that pierced the heavens. The people of Brightwater watched in horror as the shape grew larger, the screeching noise growing louder, until they realized it was not a bird at all. It was a flying warship, a dark, twisted vessel that seemed to defy the natural laws of the world.

The warship, though vast, was only the first of many. As it descended, more followed, filling the sky like a swarm of dark insects. They moved with a coordinated precision, their sails rippling in the unnatural wind as they descended upon the kingdom.

The air grew colder, and the clouds above seemed to darken further, almost as though they were feeding off the terror below. The people of Brightwater scattered, shouting in panic, rushing to their homes and shops for shelter. Mira felt a chill race down her spine. The city of Egtair had never faced anything like this. And yet, here it was—an attack unlike any other.

The Battle Begins

In the capital, King Zare was the first to take action. As the darkened sky loomed over Ravair, he summoned his generals to the palace war room. The council was tense, each advisor weighed down by the knowledge that the threat was no longer a rumor but a tangible reality.

General Kalmar entered with urgency, his face drawn tight with worry. "Your Majesty, we have no time. Kifo's forces are in the sky, and they are descending upon us faster than we anticipated."

King Zare stood at the head of the council table, his jaw set, his mind already working. "How many ships?" he asked, his voice cold and controlled.

"At least a dozen warships," Kalmar replied. "They're attacking from the air. We have no defenses for this kind of assault."

A murmur ran through the room, but Zare held up a hand to silence them. "We've known Kifo's power was not of this world. His forces are more than we can see. We will need to adapt quickly. We will not let fear control us."

Leto, his trusted advisor, spoke up, his voice steady but filled with concern. "The sky itself is an enemy now. How can we defend against what we cannot reach?"

"We use what we have," Zare said. His eyes narrowed. "Tell the airships in the fleet to engage them. We'll use our own ships to take down the attackers."

"But those ships are not built for air combat," Kalmar argued. "They'll be outmatched."

"We'll adapt," Zare said with finality. "I want the city's defenses fortified. We need to buy time for the people to retreat to the underground shelters."

The Assault Intensifies

Back in the village of Brightwater, the first strike was a devastating blow. The warships above began firing blasts of dark energy, striking the earth below with explosive force. The sound was deafening—each blast sending tremors through the ground, shaking buildings to their foundations. Smoke and debris filled the air as buildings crumbled, sending clouds of dust and dirt swirling into the already darkened sky.

Mira ran through the streets, guiding children and families toward the makeshift shelters, but it was clear that there was no safe place to hide. The village, once a calm and peaceful haven, was now under siege. The forces of Kifo were relentless, firing at will, reducing the once beautiful village to rubble.

She ducked into an alleyway, her heart racing as she heard the sound of warships overhead. The sky was a roiling mass of black and gray, and the air hummed with the energy of battle. Mira could feel the power of Kifo's forces even from the ground, a palpable force that seemed to reverberate through her bones.

"Move! Quickly!" she shouted to the others as she ushered them toward a narrow tunnel that led to the underground. But it was clear that many of the villagers were too frightened to move, their faces pale with fear as they stared up at the sky.

One by one, Mira helped the children down into the safety of the tunnels, her heart aching with every step. The terror in their eyes mirrored her own. She had never imagined this—never thought that Egtair, this peaceful kingdom she had known her whole life, could be torn apart so swiftly.

The Desperate Response

In the capital, the king's forces scrambled to defend the city. The airships, hastily prepared for battle, took to the sky, their crews firing arrows and cannons at the descending warships. The sounds of battle echoed through the air, a clash of steel and thunder as the warships retaliated with blasts of dark energy, cutting down the airships one by one.

Zare's heart was heavy as he watched the battle unfold from the palace's high balcony. The city's defenses were holding for the moment, but he knew that they would not last long against Kifo's overwhelming might. He could only pray that the preparations they had made in the past weeks would be enough to save his people.

"We need reinforcements," General Kalmar said, his voice tight with urgency as he entered the room once more. "The airships cannot hold out much longer."

"I know," Zare replied, his gaze fixed on the distant battle. "We need to keep the enemy off balance. Send word to the northern border—tell them to launch the first wave of counterattacks. We must fight on two fronts."

Kalmar nodded, his expression grim. "At once, Your Majesty."

The Heart of the Battle

As the battle raged on, Mira found herself in the heart of the conflict, watching as Egtair's once-beautiful landscape was torn apart by the fury of Kifo's invasion. The sound of warships, the clash of weapons, and the cries of the wounded filled the air. She could hear the distant shouts of soldiers as they fought valiantly to hold their ground, but the tide was turning against them.

The dark energy of Kifo's forces had begun to twist the very fabric of nature itself. Trees were uprooted by blasts of energy, the ground cracked open in great fissures, and the once-thriving fields were now nothing but scorched earth. Even the animals had been driven into a frenzy by the sheer power of the attack.

Through it all, Mira fought to keep the children calm, her voice steady as she reassured them. "Stay down. Stay close. We'll get through this."

But deep down, she knew that survival was no longer a certainty. The kingdom of Egtair was facing its first strike—an attack that threatened to wipe away everything it had worked for.

And no one could say for sure if it would survive the onslaught.