The Guardians moved in silence, their journey away from the ruins marked by a somber yet resolute determination. The early morning mist clung to the ground, and the path before them seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon. They had emerged victorious, but the weight of their trials was not easily shaken. There was no denying that their struggle against the Weavers had taken its toll—physically and emotionally.
Elara led the group, her sharp gaze scanning the road ahead, but her mind wandered back to the events of the past few days. The Weavers' dark fortress, the pulse of sinister magic they had fought to dismantle—it was a victory, but at what cost? Though the battle was behind them, there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that something larger loomed just out of sight.