After Zephyr's defeated order, the Drakthar ships turned slowly, their black sails catching the wind. Everyone on the coast watched as the fleet drifted further and further away, shrinking into dots on the horizon.
No one moved or spoke until the ships completely vanished from sight.
As the ships finally disappeared, a long sigh of relief passed through the Men of the Watch. Weapons lowered, stiff shoulders relaxed, and the tense silence finally broke into low murmurs and quiet chatter.
Morvain stood silent, her eyes fixed on the distant sea, her expression unreadable. Korvath stepped forward and stood right beside her.
"You handled that well, Matriarch,"
Korvath said respectfully.
"It was a close call,"
Morvain replied quietly.
"Too close."
She narrowed her eyes.
The rest of the Elders slowly gathered around Morvain. Their faces were grim, each deep in thought.
"They knew far too much,"
Elder Nymeris, the High Chronicler, spoke, her voice filled with worry.
