The Darkan army's search for the vanished Silver captives yielded nothing but frustration. With no trace of the prisoners or their guards, the Darkan Head, his body still wrapped in bandages from the war, ordered the camp to pack up.
The army returned to their city, a five-day march through lands buzzing with tales of their victory. The news had spread like wildfire, reaching even the most remote villages. Newspapers flooded the streets, their headlines screaming of the Darkans' reclaimed draconic heritage and their triumph over the Silvers. Bards wove songs of fire and blood, and the people speculated eagerly: What would the Darkans do next? This win was too huge to ignore.
