*Saoirse*

The great hall's air was thick with the scent of burning cedar, a sharp reminder that the fires of Pyroth had been consuming us for two long years. We had endured, but the fight had taken its toll. Pyroth's forces grew stronger with each passing day, and our hope had begun to wane. But this day, that hope was rekindled.

Rhys stood by the window, his gaze distant but his resolve clear. "For two years, we've held the line against Pyroth," he said, his voice a ...