A bright flash of green light illuminated the entrance hall of the Palace of Kings. A high wind seemed to whip about the small, circular chamber, around and around, causing the torches in their brackets to flicker. The starlight-white unicorn landed in the centre, her dark brown cloak billowing about her hooves. Several soldiers of the Tempered Feather had backed away in a startled wave before recognizing her.
“Gwyndolin!”
“Ma’am, thank God! Thank Osiris!”
“We didn’t know what to do! Where is the Commander, ma’am?”
“Azure Wings is presently indisposed with the threats within the walls.” Gwyndolin's horn was glowing menacingly. She glared toward a massive set of double doors, closed tight and with several wooden beams drawn across it. “Good, the central chamber is sealed off. We cannot allow the rebellion entry into the palace, though they will not get past me!” She turned to face the smaller doors that opened into the courtyard, with the districts of Gymkhana beyond it.
“We must look to our defences, ma’am! The Gymkhanites gather at our gates!”
With a powerful surge of power, strong enough to push away all of the horses around her, the warlock let loose a stream of magic. It flew down the stairs and crashed into the door. Like shattered glass, it fell to the floor in pieces.
“Open the gates. The fair citizens of this city have finally grown weary of our little game of chess, it seems. So be it, their souls are forfeit,” Gwyndolin whispered in a soft hiss, rising into the air, her limbs crackling with the intensity of her magic. As she continued, her voice rose in a terrible crescendo. “Let them come… the Voidwalker hungers!”