The morning light filtered through the thin veil of mist that draped over Tashi Village soft, golden, and fragile, like the promise of peace after a long storm.
The mountains surrounding the valley stood still and proud, their peaks glittering faintly with dew. The cold wind carried with it the scent of earth, ash, and rebirth.
The war-torn air from days ago had faded.
Now came the faint rhythm of hammers striking wood.
Children's laughter echoed somewhere between the ruins.
It was the sound of a place learning to breathe again.
In the middle of the village square, Alaric and Selene stood side by side.
No longer in chains but still bound by guilt heavier than iron.
Their clothes were dirt-stained, their eyes hollow with exhaustion.
Each breath they took was a quiet reminder that they were still alive, still accountable.
Their trembling hands gripped the handles of shovels, calloused fingers white from strain.
They worked silently.
