As the days passed, the village thrummed with the activity of rebuilding. Walls were mended, crops were sown, and the people began to settle into a rhythm of life that felt almost normal. But beneath the surface, the scars of the battle still lingered, and the memory of the darkness that had nearly consumed their world was never far from their thoughts.
Elara had thrown herself into her role as a diplomat with relentless focus. The proposal she had drafted with Morgana and the council had been approved swiftly, and now she found herself preparing for the first of many journeys to the neighboring villages.
On the morning of her departure, Elara stood at the edge of the village, her pack slung over one shoulder and her mind racing with the challenges that lay ahead. She was not alone—Kirin had insisted on accompanying her, along with a small contingent of warriors to ensure their safety.