Shadows Of The Aftermath

The sunlight spilling over the horizon brought a deceptive calm, its warm hues painting the battered group in shades of gold. For a brief moment, Adira allowed herself to close her eyes and breathe in the crisp morning air. The metallic tang of blood and ash still lingered, a stark reminder of the chaos they had barely escaped.

"Does it really feel over to anyone else?" Kane asked, breaking the fragile silence. He leaned against a jagged boulder, his daggers sheathed but still within reach.

Finn scoffed, brushing the dirt from his warhammer. "It never feels over with you. Can't you enjoy one sunrise without a snide comment?"

"It's not snide if it's true," Kane retorted, his sharp grin failing to reach his eyes.

"Enough," Adira said, her voice quiet but commanding. She turned to Rhea, whose golden light had dimmed entirely. The mage sat on the ground, her head bowed and her hands trembling in her lap.