Three days passed. The calm stretched thin, almost unnaturally so.
For the survivors, it was healing time — the first stretch of peace they'd known since Delwig burned. But for Damien, each sunrise only made the silence feel heavier. It was like all of this would soon come to an end and he was only waiting for the end to come each day.
The days began the same way. Soldiers drilled in the yard under Apnoch's orders, their shouts echoing off the walls. The city's guards brought supplies at dawn. They would provide bread, salted meat, mashed potatoes, and clean water.
Children of Delwig ran among the tents again, laughing faintly, their joy fragile but real. They had come to like the citizens of Delwig that had found refuge in the walls of this new city.
And always, Damien was awake before them, walking the perimeter of the camp with his usual measured steps. His eyes were distant, his thoughts elsewhere, toward ruins that still whispered to him.
