The city of Aethelgard felt different beneath the soles of Elara’s boots. It was no longer a chessboard of potential calamities, nor a fragile glass orb protected by her singular will. As she walked the main thoroughfare, the chatter of merchants and the clatter of carts were not signs of life to be defended, but simple, vibrant sounds of a world finally breathing on its own. She reached the door of her laboratory, her hand hovering over the iron latch. She was a woman returning to her work, a concept that felt alien after months of existing as a conduit for ancient, cosmic wars.
Inside, the room was exactly as she had left it. Dust motes danced in the morning sun, and her scattered notes on archaic ley lines sat undisturbed on the mahogany desk. She sat in her chair, the silence of the r
