Lila stood on the highest point of the eastern wall as the sun broke fully over the ridges, painting the snow in soft gold. The keep below hummed with renewed life after the strike on the shrine.
Happy warriors moved through the bailey with lighter steps, sharing accounts of the battle in low voices. New apprentices practiced forms with fresh determination, their wooden blades clacking in steady rhythm.
Bakers carried baskets of bread from the ovens, their laughter rising as they exchanged stories about the returning riders.
Children chased each other near the central fire, one boy waving a stick like a banner while his friends cheered him on.
The market square showed early activity, traders arranging goods and calling out deals with renewed energy.
An elder sat with a circle of young listeners, his voice carrying tales of resilience and clever survival rather than old fears.
