*Saoirse*
The world seemed to exhale, releasing a breath it had held for far too long. It wasn’t an immediate change.
Pyroth’s reign of terror had done too much damage for the realm to recover quickly. It was going to take a long time for this realm to return to its former glory. But I heard the realm's tentative promise to renew itself after Pyroth's tyranny.
"Look," Rhys murmured beside me, his voice a raspy shadow of its usual strength. We sat on a ledge overlooking the vast expanse of the Dragon Realm, our injuries making us spectators rather than participants in the world's slow mending.
"Green," I said, pointing at the tiny shoots pushing through the charred ground. "Life always finds a way back."
"Like us," he replied, glancing my way with a smile that didn't quite chase away the fatigue etched into his features.
"Like us," I repeated, leaning my head against his shoulder. The pain from my wounds flared at the movement, but being close to him made it bearable.
