---
The first day ended without victory music. It ended the way hard days do when both sides are made of adults who refuse to lie to themselves. The ring of previously sixteen thousand dimmed to a low, careful murmur. The mountain breathed in, held, and did not let itself sigh.
Kai walked the ledges until the stone knew his weight by heart.
Shale's slow ones moved stretchers in a steady procession, each lift deliberate. Needle worked the Thorn-Drill line like a metronome for lungs, tapping ribs, coaching breath back into bodies that wanted to forget how.
Lirien's runners hauled baskets of grips and leather, the small comforts that keep hands from losing themselves tomorrow.
Skyweaver rinsed iron dust from eyes with cupped water that tasted like a promise to try again.
Wolf trotted harness to harness and only let his tail wag when a drone met his eyes to nod once. Azhara stood at the east lip, a carved answer waiting for its question.
