The next few days settled into something dangerous.
Routine.
Not safety.
Not peace.
Just repetition steady enough that people started breathing easier without realizing it.
Training began at sunrise now.
Not because Nyra ordered it.
Because eventually, everyone understood they needed it.
The clearing no longer looked like a temporary refuge. Weapons rested against carved logs instead of scattered across the ground. Supplies were organized instead of hoarded. Patrol rotations formed naturally.
Structure.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Real.
Nyra stood near the edge of the training circle, watching the survivors move through drills Darius had started earlier that morning.
He looked stronger now.
Not fully healed.
But stronger.
His movements had regained their sharpness, his posture stea
