The sky above the Rift Plains was a nightmare of torn colors. Half of the sky was a bruised, sick purple. The other half was a screaming, violent red. Down in the mud, the Glassview medical tent was a place of pure horror. It was a massive tent made of thick gray canvas, set up a mile behind the front lines. But the front lines were falling apart. The Crimson Alliance was pushing forward with their terrible red energy weapons. The walking mountain of iron, the Crimson Engine, fired its heavy cannons again and again. Inside the medical tent, there were no beds left. The ground was covered in wet, freezing mud. Hundreds of young Glassview soldiers lay in the dirt. They were bleeding. They were crying. They were begging for their mothers. Caster Spellbound walked through the mud. He carried a heavy wooden bucket of dirty water. He was supposed to be a simple mechanic named Cass. He wore a torn, dirty gray jacket. His face was covered in dark soot. He had tried to walk straight towar

Caster ignored her. He pulled the glowing lavender crystal out of his pocket. The soft, silver-purple light illuminated the dark, muddy tent. The healers gasped. They had never seen magic like this before. It did not look like Tower magic. It looked incredibly old and incredibly pure. "Hold him still," Caster ordered the healers. The head healer was too shocked to argue. She saw the absolute, unbreakable authority in Caster’s gray eyes. She rushed forward and held the screaming boy’s shoulders down against the crate. Caster looked at the terrible, mutated red bone growing out of Toby’s chest. He gently pressed the glowing lavender crystal directly against the red bone. The sound was not a violent explosion. It was the sound of a massive, heavy breath being sucked inward. The moment the lavender crystal touched the mutation, the red magic reacted in pure terror. The screaming red energy tried to run away. It tried to dig deeper into the boy’s body. But the crystal was a perfect,

The mud fell from the sky like heavy, dirty rain. Caster Spellbound lay flat on his back. His ears rang with a loud, high-pitched whistling sound. He held his breath. He pressed his arms tightly against his chest, protecting the small object hidden inside his gray coat. He was still holding the overloaded, screaming black crystal. It was filled with dark, necrotic ash and the chaotic, bloody red magic he had sucked out of the dying soldiers. The crystal shook violently. It wanted to explode. Caster squeezed it with all his might, refusing to let it break. Slowly, Caster opened his gray eyes. The battlefield was a mess of smoke and fire. Young Glassview soldiers were crawling out of the mud, coughing and looking around in shock. The giant blue magical shield that had protected their camp was completely gone. Caster pushed himself up onto his knees. His broken ribs burned like sharp knives. He ignored the pain. He looked straight ahead, staring toward the western horizon. Two miles

Caster scrambled to his feet. He did not wait for Graves. He ran to the heavy iron stairs that led up to the street level. He climbed as fast as his old legs could move. His broken ribs burned, but he pushed the pain into the dark. He reached the top of the stairs and pushed open a heavy wooden door. He stepped out onto the street. The sight made his heart stop completely. The beautiful capital city of Glassview was a burning nightmare. The night sky was no longer dark. It was a bright, violent, bloody orange. The massive red beams from the Crimson Engine had hit the city with devastating force. Caster looked toward the sky. The red energy had not exploded like normal fire. It had mutated the city. Tall, shiny green glass buildings were melting like hot wax. The smooth white cobblestone streets were bubbling and twisting, turning into jagged, sharp spikes of dark red bone and bleeding rock. And the worst destruction was exactly where Caster feared it would be. He looked to the

The red fire from the sky rained down on the capital city. The Gilded Rose District was burning. Twenty minutes before Caster Spellbound stepped into the dark basement with his deadly crystal bomb, the street outside the shop had been full of screaming people. Inside the small, dusty herb shop, an old man was sweeping the floor. His name was Dorrin. Dorrin was the butler, the cleaner, and the caretaker of the Gilded Rose. He was a very old man. His hair was completely white, thin, and wispy. He wore a neat, clean, black suit that was worn out at the elbows. He had served the shop for fifty years. He did not ask questions. He did not complain. He just kept the floors clean and the herbs dry. Outside the wooden door, the world was ending. BOOM! A massive blast of red energy hit the building next door. The walls shook violently. Several glass jars fell off the wooden shelves inside the Gilded Rose. They shattered on the floor, spilling dried green leaves and blue powders everywhere