The camp was buzzing with whispers by the time Amara called for an emergency council meeting. The news of the ambush had spread like wildfire, fueling rumors that ranged from an unfortunate coincidence to deliberate sabotage. Fear and doubt rippled through the ranks, and the fragile unity she had worked so hard to maintain was beginning to show cracks.
Inside the council tent, the mood was tense. Gaius sat at the long wooden table, arms crossed, his expression hard as stone. Morgana, normally a calming presence, looked unsettled, her eyes darting between Seron and the others. Seron themselves stood near the entrance, leaning against the tent's support pole, their face unreadable but their silence louder than any words.
