Chapter 37 The Echoes That Follows Fire

• The dawn broke red. Not the soft pink of peace, but the deep, warning crimson that bled across the horizon like a wound. Kael had risen before the sun, his sword strapped to his back, armor worn loose but ready. Every breath of wind carried the promise of movement—shifting, watching, something unseen now aware.
• The soldiers were quiet, their morale balanced on the thin edge between duty and dread. They’d lost too much. Seen too much. But it was Elira who held them together—walking among them, touching shoulders, looking each soul in the eyes. She hadn’t needed speeches or firelight oaths. Just presence. That, somehow, was more powerful.
• Kael watched her from the ridge, arms crossed as he listened to the scout’s report.