Autumn began to transform slowly, like a sleeping monster awakening gradually. In the month of Eltharion, the first cold breezes began to sweep across the fields, bringing with them the scent of dry leaves and soil moistened by the season's first rains. The trees, still bearing traces of summer's vibrant colors, slowly yielded to golden and orange hues, while the sky, once clear, began to cover itself with dense clouds, signaling difficult times ahead.
In the month of Drakthar, the winds became sharper, carrying away the dead leaves and leaving the trees nearly bare. The nights lengthened and grew cold, and the air seemed to carry an invisible weight, as if even nature sensed the growing tension within the capital's walls. The harvests were coming to an end, and the festival of plenty began to be organized, bringing a brief sense of relief to the people.
