The night was still and heavy with the promise of conflict. The fortress stood as a solitary bastion against the encroaching darkness, its walls illuminated by the flickering light of torches. Inside, Elara moved with a sense of purpose through the dimly lit corridors, her mind focused on the imminent threat.
Cedric and Lyra had already mobilized their forces, and the fortress was abuzz with activity as soldiers prepared for the possibility of an attack. Elara's thoughts were a whirlwind of strategy and anticipation, each decision critical to their survival.
In the war room, Morgana and the scholars continued their work, their faces etched with concentration as they translated ancient texts and consulted maps. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and the soft glow of lanterns.
"Elara," Morgana greeted her as she entered. "We've made some progress with the texts, but the information is incomplete. The artifacts' precise locations remain uncertain."
