The Festival of Light had ended, and Elandor had settled into a sense of calm, but Draven knew that the true challenges were just beginning. Rebuilding a city was not merely about restoring structures but also about healing the wounds left by war. Draven spent his days walking through the streets, talking to the people, and listening to their concerns. The joy of victory was tempered by the reality of the losses they had endured.
As Draven walked through the market square one morning, he saw the stalls bustling with activity, the people engaging in commerce, but he also noticed the faces of those who had lost loved ones. The grief was still palpable, a shadow that hung over the city even in its brightest moments.
He stopped to speak with a blacksmith who was hammering away at a piece of metal. The man's brow was furrowed in concentration, but when he saw Draven, he paused and wiped the sweat from his face.