The ruins of the sanctuary lay in eerie silence, the aftermath of the battle still hanging heavy in the air. The once crackling tension between Eryndor and Lyria had dissipated, leaving only the smoldering remnants of what had been. Yet, for Eryndor, victory felt distant, as though it belonged to someone else. She stared at the ground where Lyria had fallen, the sight of her unconscious form stirring something deep within her.
Kaelen was the first to speak, breaking the silence. “Well, that was an interesting turn of events.” His voice was dry, tinged with the exhaustion that clung to them all.
Eryndor didn’t answer him right away. Her focus was still on Lyria, whose breathing was slow but steady. The fight was far from over—Eryndor knew that. Lyria may have been defeated in this moment,
