The days had grown warmer, and with them, the echoes of the past began to soften. The land itself seemed to breathe once more, a slow and deliberate awakening. It was as though time itself had decided to pause for a moment, allowing Kael and Morgana to survey the progress they had made—and the work still left to do.
Their travels had brought them to the edge of a once-pristine forest, now scarred by the battle that had nearly torn the world asunder. The trees stood like sentinels, half-fallen and twisted, but there was something in the air that felt different—a sense of possibility that hadn't existed before.
Kael stood at the edge of the forest, his hand resting lightly on the rough bark of an old oak tree. He felt the pulse of life within it, faint but undeniable. "The magic is returning," he murmured, more to himself than to Morgana, who stood nearby, watching the horizon.