Elandris stood slowly, her eyes lingering on the flower for a moment longer before she turned to me. "Have a proper sleep this time, brethren," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Looking at how you fought, I realized. You were fighting for us. And just for that reason, let me, Elandris Sylrin, former court magician of the elven council, put you in peace,"
I didn't say anything, didn't need to. The weight of what had transpired hung between us, heavy and undeniable. And as we stood there, side by side, watching the flower bloom in the quiet stillness of the dungeon, I couldn't help but feel the lingering weight of everything that had just happened settle over me like a shroud.
The flower swayed gently in the soft breeze that had somehow found its way into the dungeon, its delicate petals catching the faintest traces of light. It was a solemn reminder of what had transpired—a life lost, one full of hatred and pain, but now finally at rest.
