Abranni’s eyes filled with tears, but as she started to stand—no doubt to take issue with her brother's decision—the darkness from high above moved across her face. A shot of inspiration raced through Melcayro's veins.
“Wait!” he shouted. He looked up and back to the Ridgerazers.
“It wants to fight us with darkness? Well, then, let's fight night with night.”
Abranni smiled as Melcayro helped her to her feet.
“To me!” Melcayro shouted. “Ridgerazers, to me!”
The men and women scrambled over, dodging frenzied archers and streams of Bedrock and Spire racing towards the breach in the wall.
“We might be able to break this magic,” Melcayro started. “If we merge our energies, we might be able to mimic the moon. Do you understand? Mirroring?”
A Grand Ridgerazer responded warily. “We’ve studied the theory of it.”
“Queen Jularra did it at the Battle of Brinnock,” a Ridgerazer Adept added.
“But this requires more focus and energy than one person recreating and manipulating a few square miles,” Abranni clarified. “This needs to be the entire moon.”
“I don’t know if we can help mirror the moon,” the ‘Razer said, concerned. “Why does it have to be the moon?”
“The source of this magic,” Abranni began to explain, “the Voidwarden’s spell—its very appearance—is that of night. It’s rooted in the night. Well, there is no single greater source of night’s energy than the moon.”
The Grand Ridgerazer understood. “Let’s get to it.”
Melcayro nodded. “We need to be touching,” he shouted. “There isn't enough room for a circle. Stretch out along the wall and hold hands. Focus on mimicking the moon! Feed all your focus into the energy you’re lending to me! Send it all to me, and I’ll work to concentrate it. Understood?”
Abranni and the dozens of Ridgerazers raced to spread out along the wall. Each grabbed the next person’s hand, forming an impressive line of magic users. Once everyone was in place, they started to center themselves. Their eyes drifted upwards, to where the artificial dusk created by the colossal mirroring of the Voidwarden’s fist was almost complete. Only thin slivers of natural daylight shone through.
The defending witches and wizards continued to look up into the false night sky, past the collection of counterfeit stars, searching for where the true moon would normally appear during the natural night.
One by one, each Ridgerazer found what they were looking for.
In the darkness above, a faint hint of the moon began to appear. Starting as a milky shadow, the mimicked form started to take shape. Brighter and brighter the mirrored moon grew. Their collective efforts were working.
But a scream shattered their focus; one of the Ridgerazers down the line had been struck by an arrow. Their bond was interrupted, and the moon quickly began to dissipate.
“Close that gap!” Melcayro shouted. “This will be pointless if we fail! Close that gap,” he shouted at a Ridgerazer. “Focus!”
Before grabbing the next nearest person’s hand to close the gap, the Ridgerazer shouted at an infantryman rushing by, “Get him to a medic! He’s taken an arrow.”
With no time to discuss or argue, the infantryman scooped up the Ridgerazer and carried on running down the nearest steps. The fallen Ridgerazer's comrade then grabbed the nearest witch’s hand and repaired their chain of power.
“Don’t stop! Concentrate!” Abranni yelled.
The conjured moon had almost completely disintegrated, but the re-established connection stalled its disappearance. After a few seconds, their resumed efforts took hold and started to bolster the lunar mirror once more.
The Voidwarden’s fabricated dusk slowly surrendered to the light of the strengthening moon. Murky shadows waned as familiar craters carved themselves into the bright face of the moon; its crisp, ivory light poured out into the dark and demanded the attention of those below it.
“Almost, my friends!” Melcayro shouted. “Keep going!”
As Abranni and the Ridgerazers worked, Melcayro felt their combined efforts accumulating within him. He raised a hand and started to summon a sphere—a sphere of light.
The light of night. Their summoned moon.
Melcayro had never had to maintain such a powerful magical focus before. As the miniature moon formed above his palm, it was an instant burden of power. He fell to a knee, but Abranni clutched his hand tighter, lending him strength.
He looked up as the mirrored moon in the sky glowed brighter and larger, until it approached the full size of its natural inspiration. As the moon in the sky grew, so too did the one above Melcayro’s palm. As the moment approached for him to unleash its power, the weight became too much for one hand.
“I’ve got to break off!” he shouted at the others. “Keep going! I’m going to transfer my focus. Make a final push to finish the mirror, and then let me take it.”
The others remained silent, focused, the very embodiment of teamwork. Melcayro felt Abranni squeeze his hand. Then she let go.
With a final push of will, Abranni and her Ridgerazers completed their casting, and the moon shocked the sky in a blinding flash of light.
This final pulse of energy almost overwhelmed Melcayro, and he collapsed to his knees under the magical weight of their conjured moon. He fought the urge to just let his hands drop; he would not lose control of all they had worked to create. He would not be beaten. He stayed in place, resting back on his heels as he focused into his globe of lunar light while Abranni screamed encouragement.
Melcayro looked at the moon in the sky and back to the orb in his hands. Then he started to stand.
He shook, muscles burning, spirit exhausted. He bent one knee up and confirmed his footing on that leg.
Melcayro continued to look into the light in his hands, grunting through gritted teeth. Slowly, steadily, using only what energy he could spare from sustaining his control over the moon’s replica, he pushed himself to his feet.
He took a second to breathe, but then opened his eyes. He knew he had it.
He sucked in a breath, shoving it out slowly as he lifted the mirrored moon over his head. With
