The first rays of dawn crept over the Blackwood Mountains, turning the snow-capped peaks silver and gold.
Morning mist drifted through the valleys below, curling between ancient forests and newly rebuilt villages like pale ribbons. Birds called from the treetops. Somewhere beyond the hills, a church bell rang, its distant notes carrying across a land that had almost forgotten what an ordinary morning sounded like.
For the first time in years, Lunaria was at peace.
No battle cries echoed through the mountains.
No flames devoured homes.
No wounded wolves howled beneath a blood-red sky.
Instead, hammers struck stone.
Saws cut through fresh timber.
Farmers returned to fields abandoned during the Shadow War, turning dark earth beneath a gentle sun. Children raced through wildflowers whe
