Weeks had passed since the storm that nearly tore Ravenbrook apart. The town was slowly waking from its nightmare, the scars of battle softened by time and the resilience of its people. The blackbird emblem, once a silent sentinel, now seemed to glow with quiet pride over the chapel's entrance.
Elara stood on the hill overlooking the town, the morning sun warming her face. The weight that had pressed on her chest for so long felt lighter, though she knew the shadows would always linger at the edges—waiting, watching.
Jonas approached, carrying a bundle of fresh herbs and a worn leather journal. "The town's healing, but so must we," he said softly. "The Keepers will remain vigilant, as will the people."
Elara smiled faintly. "We've learned that the darkness isn't just out there. It's inside us, in doubt and fear. But it's also in hope, love, and trust."
They stood in silence, watching children play in the streets below, laughter threading through the crisp morning air.
A soft breeze whispered through the trees, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible melody—like a song from another time.
Elara's gaze sharpened, senses alert.
"Not all shadows fade with the dawn," she murmured.
Jonas nodded, understanding the unspoken truth: the battle for Ravenbrook was never truly over.
But for now, there was peace.
And in that peace, a promise.