|| Penelope ||
I stood in the grand hall, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my heart pounding as the dust of chaos settled around us. The battle had ended, but the echoes of violence still lingered in the air, clinging to the shattered remains of what had once been a place of diplomacy and order.
Ancient Maya remained near the walls, her hands moving in slow, deliberate strokes, tracing glowing runes in the air as she muttered incantations under her breath. The remnants of dark magic fought against her will, flickering defiantly before dimming into nothingness. Each rune that faded took with it the last traces of Charlotte’s influence, but the scars — both seen and unseen — would take far longer to heal.
The noble society of Goldenrealm stood frozen, their faces pale, their ornate garme
