The dawn broke with a pale, golden light, filtering through the mist that clung to the fortress walls like a shroud. Elara stood on the battlements, her gaze sweeping over the landscape that stretched out before her. The air was still, heavy with the tension of the unknown. Below, the fortress bustled with activity—soldiers preparing for battle, messengers arriving with reports, and mages conducting their rituals. But even amidst the preparation, a sense of unease lingered, a shadow over the hearts of all who knew what was coming.
The day ahead would be crucial. Elara had summoned the council of their most trusted allies, calling them to the fortress to discuss their next move. They had to act quickly; the darkness was spreading faster than they had anticipated. Villages were falling, the land itself twisting under the influence of the shadowy figure's power. If they didn't stop it soon, the entire kingdom—and perhaps beyond—could be lost.
