The sun rose over Heliana, soft and golden, washing the ruins of battle with a fragile peace. Smoke no longer blackened the sky. The villagers had begun to rebuild, hammering wood, sewing cloth, cleaning streets once soaked in blood.
We stood at the gates, packs slung across our shoulders. Serin Velra, the Guardians, the Orders, Elder Ryozen, and Captain Kaedros gathered before us. Their faces carried the same look—gratitude, unspoken yet heavy, a mixture of relief and reverence.
Elder Ryozen's scarred face softened, his ember-like eyes burning with quiet pride. Captain Kaedros, bruised and bandaged, held his stance straight, though I could see the strain behind his posture. Serin fidgeted, his small hands tightening as if afraid to let us go.
Master Isen broke the silence first. His grin was wide, his tone far too light for such a weighty moment.
"Well, that was fun, wasn't it? Monsters, screaming, near-death—truly a vacation spot. Should come here more often."
