The first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the trees, casting soft golden hues across the campsite. Luke stirred, blinking against the light as he slowly woke from his deep sleep. His body felt heavy, still weighed down by the events of the night before, but the scent of the morning air, fresh and crisp, helped him shake off the grogginess.
Beside him, Rhys was already waking up, rubbing his eyes and stretching, looking around as if trying to piece together where they were. It didn't take long for his gaze to fall on Ilyrana, who sat near the now-dying campfire, her back resting against the carriage. Her posture was slumped, her eyes half-closed, but there was no mistaking the exhaustion that clung to her. She had stayed awake the entire night, watching over them.
Luke stood, rolling his shoulders and stifling a yawn, then walked over to her. He knelt, concern flickering in his expression.
