Elara awoke before dawn, her sleep restless and filled with fragmented dreams of shadows and whispers. The village was still cloaked in the early morning fog as she quietly dressed and gathered her belongings. She needed to be prepared for the day ahead, and the feeling of unease that had settled over her since their arrival was a constant reminder of the challenges they faced.
In the inn's common room, the early light filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow over the wooden tables and benches. Marta was already up, preparing breakfast with a practiced ease. Elara approached her with a polite nod.
"Good morning," Elara said. "I hope we didn't disturb your rest."
Marta glanced up, a faint smile on her lips. "Not at all. I've been up for hours. The village has its own rhythm, and it starts early. You're welcome to breakfast while you wait for your friends."