The fires of victory burned low as the night deepened over the battlefield.
Elizabeth stood at the edge of the makeshift camp, staring out across the broken landscape. The scent of smoke and blood still lingered, heavy on the cold air. Stars glittered above, distant and untouchable, while the earth beneath her feet still seemed to tremble from the echoes of war.
Despite the triumph, a weight pressed on her chest.
There was a price for every victory.
And tonight, it felt heavier than ever.
Rowan found her there, silent as a shadow. He didn’t speak at first, merely offering his presence like a steady flame against the chill.
After a long moment, Elizabeth broke the silence.
"How many did we lose?"
Rowan’s jaw tightened. "Too many."
She closed her eyes, letting the grief wash over he
