The crimson dawn barely touched the horizon, casting long, jagged shadows over the battered keep. Adira stood on the parapet, her eyes locked on the distant line of the forest, where tendrils of mist clung like phantoms to the trees. The cool air carried the acrid scent of burned flesh and shattered stone. Every muscle in her body screamed for rest, but her mind refused to yield to the weariness pressing down on her shoulders.
Kael approached silently, his steps sure despite the uneven stone. He stopped beside her, his gaze following hers. "The quiet doesn't feel like a blessing, does it?"
Adira shook her head. "It never does."
His hand rested on the hilt of his blade, the faint glint of the edge catching the weak sunlight. "They'll come again. They always do."
"And we'll be ready," Adira said, her voice carrying a defiance she barely felt. She turned to face him, her expression firm. "Rhea and Kane?"
