The silence that followed the dispersal of the vortex was unnerving. It felt too still, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Elara slowly pushed herself to her feet, her body aching from the immense strain of the magic they had just channeled. Her heart pounded in her chest, a reminder that they had barely survived.
Around her, the chamber was a mess of cracked stone and debris. The walls still shimmered with faint, residual magic, and the air smelled of burnt ozone, a reminder of how close they had come to disaster. But it was over—for now.
Arian stood beside her, scanning the room for any lingering threats. His face was tight with worry, though he tried to hide it. "We stopped it," he said quietly, but his voice held no relief. "But for how long?"
Elara shook her head, feeling a pit of dread in her stomach. "Not long enough."