As the days passed, the camp's unity grew stronger, bolstered by shared stories, newly honed skills, and a fierce determination to stand as one against the Eternal Shadow. Each warrior, mage, and healer had a newfound confidence—a quiet, steady fire. But the calm was fleeting, like the lull before an oncoming storm.
The winds began to change one evening, carrying with them an unnatural chill that left everyone on edge. Kael sensed it first as he stood watch on a small rise, looking out over the plains. The air felt heavy, oppressive, as if it carried the weight of an approaching darkness. He shivered, and his hand drifted instinctively to the hilt of his sword. Just as he was about to head back to camp, Morgana appeared beside him, her face drawn and tense.
"Do you feel it too?" she asked, her voice low.
Kael nodded. "Something's coming. Something… different. It doesn't feel like his usual tactic of creeping into our minds or whispering from the shadows."