UNDER THE SPOTLIGHT

Eleanor's boots cut a path in the dirt of her tent floor, each step a frantic mirror of her troubling thoughts.

She furrowed her forehead, and her eyes focused intently. The candlelight created revolving shadows on the canvas walls, imitating the uproar in her head.

Outside, the camp had settled into an uneasy silence, but inside Eleanor's tent, the air was heavy with anxiety. She reviewed the recent attacks repeatedly, each strike by the Shadow Council a cruel reminder of their adversary's determined ruthlessness. The precision of their attacks gnawed at her, demonstrating the council's unsettling level of coordination and awareness.