The morning sun rose slowly over the fields of Val'Therya, tinging the sky with a soft gold that made the celestial dragons look like living sculptures in the distance. The air was crisp, with the scent of freshly damp grass and ancient magic still pulsing in the ground. It was a new day—and a time to depart.
In front of the clearing where the battles had taken place, a group now gathered that, to any mortal, would seem like a living myth.
Evelyn stood beside Lyana, both dressed in simple but beautiful elven robes woven from living silver and enchanted leaves. Their light silver hair danced in the wind, and their eyes held a steady gleam, clouded only by emotion.
Strax approached first. He was silent, without his armor, wearing only a black shirt and pants, as if he wanted this moment to be more human than divine. He stopped in front of Evelyn. The two stared at each other for a moment that seemed to last for ages.
