The last of the trial beasts fell with a hiss, its body collapsing into the dust of the altar grounds. Silence returned, heavy and oppressive, broken only by the rough, uneven breaths of the elves who had fought tooth and blade at Racheal's side.
She raised a hand, her emerald eyes sweeping across the weary faces of her cohort. "We'll rest for twenty minutes," she ordered, her voice calm but edged with command. "Gather your energy. We still have much ahead of us."
The elves nodded wordlessly, too drained to speak, and scattered to their chosen spots, some slumping against jagged stones, others sinking cross-legged onto the cold ground, eyes already closing in focus.
Racheal herself walked toward the far corner where Jessica sat, the old elf matron whose silver hair spilled across her shoulders like a fading banner. Jessica's eyes were shut, her face serene, as if the battle had been nothing more than a passing breeze. Racheal lingered by her side, lowering her voice.
