Cyrus's POV**

The atmosphere was tense and the air was filled with the smell of the fight, of men and sweat, of blood and fire. The once-pristine walls now bore scars of chaos: shattered rock, broken timber, and broken pieces of all things around. We were in the middle of the dead soldiers and we all paused for a moment, panting, trying to catch our breaths. A complete and utter void filled the air, the only whispers of sound coming from the groans of the injured and the far-off ringing of metal.

I looked at my friends and estimated how tired they were, as well as how tired I was...