Defending the Camp

The camp was alive with frantic energy, a pulse of urgency that hummed through the air as preparations for defense took on a desperate pace. The impending attack had spread through the rebels like wildfire, and everywhere I looked, people moved with a purpose born from fear and determination. Sparks flew as weapons were sharpened, and the glow of magic crackled as wards were reinforced. Conversations were clipped, voices hushed, each one carrying the weight of what was coming.

I stood in the center of it all, my eyes scanning the scene, mind racing through everything Victor had revealed. We had hours, maybe less, before the puppeteer’s forces descended on us. There was no room for hesitation, no time to second-guess Victor’s warning. The camp had to be ready. And I had to lead them.