The morning sun rose slowly, bathing Ardent Hold in a soft, golden light. The courtyard, once filled with the chaotic remnants of battle, now appeared calm, as if the previous night's harrowing confrontation had been nothing more than a bad dream. Yet Morgana knew better—every breath she took still tasted of the power she had unleashed, the energy of the Heart of Oaths lingering in the air.
Around her, the camp stirred awake. Soldiers and mages moved wearily, their expressions shadowed with exhaustion, but there was a palpable sense of relief. They had survived. Nyx's shadows had been driven back, for now. But as Morgana gazed out over the walls of Ardent Hold, she couldn't help but feel the darkness still watching, waiting for another moment of weakness.
"Are you all right?" Kirin's voice pulled her from her thoughts. He stood beside her, eyes scanning the camp, his posture as strong as ever despite the battle's toll.
