The mountain may have stopped bleeding, but its scars ran deep.

Celeste stood at the highest ridge overlooking Hollow Mountain, watching as the scattered rays of dawn caught the broken stone and budding tents below. Warriors bustled across the valley floor, hauling timber, building watchtowers, and digging new channels for water. The morning was quiet save for the rhythmic clink of tools and the occasional barked order. The rebuilding had begun, but not everyone had come out of the battle ...