The warmth of the midday sun bathed the village in a golden light, the morning's fresh clarity infusing everyone with a renewed sense of purpose. Yet beneath the surface, tension lingered like the remnants of a forgotten storm, subtle but present in every hushed conversation, every hurried glance exchanged between villagers. As Elara reentered the command center, the weight of the responsibilities ahead settled over her once more, but this time, she bore it with quiet resolve.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of old parchment and fresh ink. The large table that dominated the room was now cleared of the morning's reports, replaced by detailed maps and records meticulously arranged by Elias. Morgana, ever the tactician, was already engaged in conversation with him, discussing the logistics of the new scout deployment.
