Chapter 36

Dawn's light crept through the morning mist, revealing Florishside's ruins in merciless detail. Where once living trees had reached toward the sky, now only blackened trunks remained, their branches bare and broken like accusing fingers. The carefully tended gardens had been trampled to mud, and the intricate network of elvish homes lay in ruins, their delicate architecture reduced to ash and splintered wood.

Boren's army halted at the village's edge, the silence more deafening than any battle cry. Beside him, Brytha's face hardened as she surveyed the destruction, her warrior's eyes cataloging strategic implications even as her hands tightened on her reins.

"Systematic," she said quietly, voice clipped with controlled rage. "They didn't just destroy - they made sure nothing could grow back quickly." Her gesture encompassed the salted earth where gardens had once flourished. "This wasn't random violence. This was meant to break spirits."