The morning sun was a cruel reminder that time doesn't stop for heartaches. It bled across the horizon, pale and indifferent, signaling the end of our sanctuary.
Damar helped me dress in silence, his fingers lingering on my skin as if he were trying to memorize my warmth through his fingertips. The scent of him clung to my hair and skin, a protective shroud against the days ahead.
"It'll be fine, Ari," he whispered to me, and I took a shuddering breath before releasing it, my eyes burning with an intense flame.
With a heavy heart and a firm resolve to not take nonsense from any old beastman in that council, I stormed into the meeting room with my chest puffed and my eyes as sharp as a blade.
The gathering hall, which only yesterday had been filled with the chaotic hope of playing children, was now a tomb of tradition.
