The sun crawled reluctantly over the jagged ridges when the company left the ruin behind. Its light was pale, fragile, as though even dawn hesitated to touch the place they had bled in. Shadows stretched long across the broken earth, gilded faintly in dull gold. The valley still stank of ash, iron, and scorched stone. Mist lingered in the hollows like breath that refused to disperse, and every step felt heavy, as if the ruin's weight clung to their boots.
Leo trudged in silence. The shard-blade, now dimmed to ordinary steel, swung at his side, but its weight was nothing compared to the thrum beneath his ribs. Quiet. Steady. Waiting. His body ached with each motion, his lungs still raw from smoke, but worse was the dread lodged in his chest, the knowledge that next time, he might not hold it back. Next time, choice might slip through his fingers.
