The village had been quiet for hours now, the distant hum of construction replaced by the soft sounds of the night. Kael and Elara sat near the remnants of the village's main square, watching the moon rise over the horizon, its pale light casting long shadows across the rubble and the slowly rising structures. The scent of wood and earth lingered in the air, mixing with the faint smell of smoke from the fires still burning around the perimeter. They had fought, endured, and survived. But the real work had just begun.
Elara rested her back against the stone wall they had helped rebuild earlier that day. Her fingers brushed over the rough surface, feeling the texture of it, the solidity. It was a small but significant thing—this stone, this wall—because it symbolized more than just the physical act of construction. It was a symbol of resilience, of the desire to rise again after everything had been torn down.