The fire flickered and crackled, casting long shadows across the faces of Kael and his delegation as they sat in the center of the northern tribe's council circle. The elder who had spoken, still wary but intrigued, had given them the rare opportunity to speak openly. Now, the moment of truth was upon them.
Kael could feel the weight of their gazes—sharp, calculating, but not yet dismissive. It was the look of a people who had survived countless battles, both with the world and within themselves. These were not people who easily trusted. The firelight reflected in the cold eyes of the northern leaders, some of whom had lived through wars that Kael could barely imagine, much less understand.
"We've heard your words, stranger," the elder said again, her voice low but clear. "You speak of peace, of unity, but your lands are far from here. What do you know of the price we've paid to survive? What do you know of the blood that has stained our soil?"
