The night air was thick with tension, the village eerily quiet as every soul within its walls prepared for the battle that would soon descend upon them. The villagers were in their homes, families gathered together in a final moment of solace before the inevitable chaos. The warriors, both seasoned and newly trained, stood guard at their posts, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of movement.
Elara stood on the wall overlooking the village, her gaze fixed on the distant treeline where the enemy would soon emerge. She could feel the weight of the night pressing down on her, a heavy silence that was broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant hoot of an owl. It was the kind of silence that only came before something catastrophic, the calm before the storm.
