Foundations

The dawn of the next day came with a crisp chill in the air, signaling the beginning of a new phase. The village, still in its infancy, was buzzing with activity as the survivors worked to establish order. Shelters were going up one by one, small fires dotted the landscape for cooking, and the sounds of tools clanking against stone echoed through the valley. It wasn't much yet, but it was growing, and with every passing hour, the people's confidence seemed to solidify.

I stood near the edge of the camp, watching the morning light creep across the hills. The view felt symbolic—beyond the valley, the unknown stretched before us, vast and untamed. But here, within this space, we were building something that might one day stand against it.

Raven joined me, her hair still damp from the river. She carried two wooden mugs filled with what passed for tea, though the taste was more bitter than soothing. She handed one to me, her gaze following mine toward the horizon.