The dawn broke over the horizon, casting a pale light over the landscape as the Guardians made their way back to the base. The previous day's storm had left the ground slick and the air heavy with moisture. The sense of foreboding that had clung to the group since their encounter with the Weaver now loomed larger, a silent companion that followed them down the mountain.
Elara led the group in silence, her mind occupied with Morgana's chilling vision of an approaching darkness. The taste of victory in the stronghold felt hollow now, a small win overshadowed by the larger threat they now faced. There was no time for celebration—whatever lay ahead was far greater than the Weavers' plot they had uncovered.
