Early morning light bathed the castle courtyard, a sharp contrast to the aftermath of the battle.
Although the survivors could smell blood and smoke everywhere, they were clearly relieved.
Standing together, Declan and Elara looked at them, a mixture of pride and grief in their faces.
They understood that the next day would be spent both grieving their losses and attending to the wounded.
The way their hands were tightly bound meant that their connection had been tested and grown over time.
As Helena, Declan's mother, walked up to them, her eyes held the weight of their victory. Though we paid the price, she said, "We've won."
Declan gave me a serious nod. "We cannot allow this victory to be the end of our story," he stated, "but we must honor our fallen and heal our wounds."
His eyes met Elara's, and he recognized who they were. "We have to find joy among the ruins," she said confidently. "Life goes on."
