The respite offered by the grateful villagers was brief but restorative. The simple acts of sharing a meager meal and resting under a roof, however humble, were a balm to their weary bodies and spirits. Yet, the undercurrent of unease persisted, fueled by Elara's unsettling visions and Seraphine's somber warnings. The victory in the old woods felt like a skirmish won, but the war, they knew, was far from over.
The following morning, as the first rays of dawn painted the sky in hues of rose and gold, they gathered in the village square. The villagers, their faces etched with a newfound hope, offered what provisions they could spare for the companions' journey. Elara felt a pang of guilt at accepting their meager offerings, but she knew they needed to continue their path, to understand the wider implications of the Abyss's reach.
