The temple ruins were heavy with silence. Smoke from the recent fires still clung to the air, and the faint scent of frost lingered in the stone, a reminder of the battle no one could forget.
Kael sat at the long table, head bowed, his arms still marked by Solas’s ice. The storm in his veins crackled weakly, drained by the fight. Around him, the rebels gathered, their faces drawn tight with fear and doubt.
Mira broke the silence first. “We can’t ignore this. The Dominion didn’t just send soldiers. They sent a hunter from the Sanctum.”
Joren leaned forward, his voice sharp. “And Kael barely survived. Next time, he won’t. We’re fools if we put all our hopes on him.”
Murmurs rippled through the room. Some nodded in agreement, others looked to Kael with wide, desperate eyes. He didn’t meet
