As the last light of day faded over New Haven, a somber stillness fell over the town. The dust from the battle had settled, but the lingering scent of smoke and ash reminded everyone of the fight they had endured. People gathered in small groups, talking in hushed tones, some comforting the wounded, others silently reinforcing the perimeter. Despite their victory, a tension filled the air, a quiet understanding that Lady Elara would return.
George found himself alone for a moment, standing on the edge of the town near the watchtower. The fatigue from the day weighed on him, and the haunting image of Lady Elara's crimson eyes lingered in his mind, along with the words Thalira had spoken.
"You have to be careful," he muttered to himself, as if speaking the warning into existence would make it easier to heed.
