The morning after the battle dawned bright and clear, a stark contrast to the night's brutal conflict. The stronghold's courtyard, which had been a scene of chaos and bloodshed, was now quiet, the only sounds those of soldiers tending to the wounded and the soft murmur of conversations among the survivors. The sense of relief was palpable, but so too was the exhaustion that weighed heavily on everyone's shoulders.
Elara stood atop the stronghold's walls, gazing out at the surrounding landscape. The fields and forests that had once been full of life now bore the scars of war—burned patches of earth, shattered trees, and the lingering shadows where the enemy had fallen. Despite the victory, a gnawing unease lingered in the pit of her stomach. The Shadow Shard had been defeated, but she knew it was only a temporary reprieve. Their true leader had yet to reveal themselves, and until that final battle was fought, no one was truly safe.
