The fortress stood silent in the aftermath of the ritual. Dawn's light filtered through the cracks in the ancient stone walls, casting a warm, hopeful glow over the battered stronghold. Inside, the air was thick with exhaustion, but the group's spirits were lifted by their hard-won victory. They had pushed back the Abyss, but the respite was fleeting. There was still much to be done.
Elara sat at the long table in the library, where Morgana had laid out the remnants of their ritual preparations. The artifact, now dimly glowing, rested in the center of the table, its power having waned but its presence still commanding attention. Morgana was meticulously examining the artifact, her expression a mixture of relief and concentration.