I stood there, breathless, watching the aftermath of the mage's demise. The laughter had ceased abruptly, replaced by the crumbling of stone and the settling dust. The graveyard's silence was now a profound, heavy weight, as if the very land was absorbing the echoes of our confrontation.
In the lingering darkness, I approached the fallen statue cautiously. The broken pieces of the stone, along with the mage's form, lay beneath the debris. I knew better than to assume the mage was completely gone; even in death, dark forces could linger. Yet, for now, the immediate danger had been quelled.
As I gazed at the shattered remnants, my thoughts were a tangled mess of relief and grim determination. The confrontation had ended in a way I could scarcely have anticipated, but for now, the graveyard was quiet. The night's oppressive atmosphere remained, a stark reminder of the dark and mysterious world I had barely begun to unravel.
