The first rays of dawn filtered through the narrow windows of the fortress, casting long shadows across the ancient stone floors. The night's events lingered in the air, the tension still palpable despite the silence that had settled over the stronghold. Elara stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the horizon, where the remnants of the storm were retreating into the distance. The fortress had held against the Abyss, but the cost of that victory weighed heavily on her mind.
Behind her, Morgana stirred on the makeshift bed they had fashioned from old blankets. The mage's eyes fluttered open, and she blinked in the dim light, her face pale and drawn from the immense effort she had exerted. Elara turned at the sound, relief flooding her as she crossed the room to kneel beside her friend.
"You're awake," Elara said softly, her voice betraying the worry she had been holding back.
