The village had changed. What had once been a place of refuge now felt like the center of a gathering storm. The winds howled through the narrow streets, whipping up dust and debris as if heralding the chaos to come. The sky, darkened by roiling clouds, seemed to press down on the village, a portent of the conflict that awaited.
Elara and Morgana returned to the village just as the first cracks of thunder echoed in the distance. The orb they had retrieved from the ancient ruins was securely wrapped in a protective cloth, but even through the layers of fabric, its faint glow pulsed rhythmically, almost as if it were alive.