The warmth of the rising sun slowly melted away the chill that had clung to the air, a stark contrast to the battle they had just endured. Elara, still clutching the Blade of Eternity, stood at the edge of the mountaintop, gazing out over the landscape that was now bathed in a golden light. It was a moment she had dreamed of, a victory that felt surreal even as the first rays of dawn broke through the clouds. But beneath the surface of triumph, there was an undercurrent of exhaustion, grief, and the weight of the journey that had brought them here.
Kirin, his sword sheathed, moved to stand beside her. His face, usually set in a determined expression, softened as he took in the view. "It's over," he said quietly, as if he could scarcely believe the words himself. "Nyx is gone."
Elara nodded, though her eyes remained fixed on the horizon. "We did what we had to do," she replied, her voice tinged with both relief and sadness. "But the cost..."
