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Chapter 3 - Forced Alliance

The dawn was cold and gray as Kael and Liora stood at the edge of Elderglow's courtyard, their breath misting in the crisp air. Behind them, a small task force assembled—six warriors, three from each race, handpicked for their skills but eyeing each other with barely veiled suspicion. The Solaris contingent, clad in heavy crimson armor, carried broadswords and shields, their faces set in stoic determination. The Lunari, in sleek, dark leathers, moved with quiet grace, their daggers and bows glinting in the weak light. Kael's broadsword hung at his side, while Liora's twin daggers were sheathed at her hips, her posture rigid with defiance.

The mission was clear: track the Void Plague to its source, rumored to lie deep in the uncharted Wastes beyond the Borderlands. But the air between Kael and Liora crackled with hostility, their forced alliance a bitter pill neither could swallow. The team's first steps were marked by silence, broken only by the crunch of boots on gravel and the occasional clink of armor.

"Keep your people in line, Lunari," Kael muttered as they marched, his voice low but sharp. "I won't have them slowing us down."

Liora's eyes flashed, her hand twitching toward a dagger. "Worry about your own, Solaris. Your clunking armor sounds like a herd of oxen. The Void will hear us coming from miles away."

Their team exchanged uneasy glances, already sensing the storm brewing between their leaders. A Solaris warrior, a grizzled veteran named Torren, grunted. "This is madness. We'll kill each other before the Void does."

A Lunari archer, Sylis, smirked. "At least we'll have a good show first."

The bickering continued as they trekked through the rocky foothills, the landscape growing bleaker with every mile. Blackened trees and patches of ashen ground marked the Void Plague's reach, a grim reminder of their mission's stakes. Kael and Liora's arguments grew sharper, their words laced with years of racial enmity. Kael mocked the Lunari's reliance on stealth, calling it cowardice; Liora sneered at the Solaris' brute force, labeling it reckless.

By midday, they reached a narrow pass where the path split. Kael insisted on the left fork, claiming it led to a known water source. Liora countered that the right was safer, citing Lunari scouts' reports of Void activity. Their debate escalated, voices rising until they stood toe-to-toe, hands on their weapons.

"You think you know everything, don't you?" Kael growled, towering over her. "Your scouts are probably skulking in shadows, too scared to face the truth."

Liora's lips curled into a cold smile. "And your warriors are too busy swinging their oversized swords to think. Step aside, Kael, or I'll make you."

The team tensed, hands inching toward weapons. But before blades could be drawn, a distant rumble shook the ground. A flock of birds erupted from the trees, and the air grew heavy with an unnatural chill. Kael and Liora froze, their argument forgotten as they scanned the horizon. A faint, inky mist curled through the pass ahead, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

"Void sign," Liora whispered, her voice steady but urgent. "We move together, now."

Kael nodded, his jaw tight. "Agreed. Left fork, but stay sharp."

For the first time, their eyes met without venom, a fleeting acknowledgment of the greater threat. They rallied the team, barking orders in unison, their voices cutting through the rising panic. As they advanced, weapons drawn, the mist thickened, and faint whispers echoed in the air—sounds that sent shivers down even Kael's spine.

Liora glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "Don't die on me yet, Solaris. I still owe you a beating."

Kael's lips twitched, almost a smirk. "Likewise, Lunari."

The team pressed forward, their leaders side by side, bound by necessity but not trust. The Void Plague loomed closer, and with it, the uneasy realization that their survival might depend on the one person each despised most.

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