The sun was low on the horizon by the time Damien, Amara, and Carys emerged from the cavern, its light stretching long and golden over the rocky expanse of Shale Pass. Behind them, the mine yawned like a grave, holding within it the final breaths of Armand and his rebellion. Yet the echoes of the fight still lingered in Damien's mind, heavy as the silence that followed it.
The wind picked up, carrying the crisp scent of the approaching night and rustling the dry shrubs dotting the hillside. Damien stood at the ridge, looking out over the vast, empty plains below. Armand was dead, another thread of Elyas's rebellion severed. And yet Damien felt no satisfaction, only a dull weariness creeping into his bones.
