The dawn arrived with a somber clarity. The group's camp, nestled in the shadow of the mountains, was a scene of controlled chaos as preparations for the next phase of their journey were underway. Despite the lingering exhaustion, there was a palpable sense of urgency. The victory over the dark figure had given them a temporary respite, but they knew it was only the beginning of a much larger conflict.
Elara stood apart from the hustle, her gaze fixed on the distant mountains. The fortress they had destroyed lay in ruins, but the memory of its dark power was fresh in her mind. As the leader, she felt the weight of responsibility pressing heavily upon her shoulders. She had led them through battles and trials before, but this felt different—this felt like a reckoning.
Morgana approached, her face lined with concern. "Elara, I've been examining the magical residues and the remnants of the dark figure's presence. There's something troubling."
