The Final Dawn. Rise of the Deceiver, #5

The dawn broke over Westharrow in gold and fire, but the citydidn't feel completely free. I stood atop the ridge overlookingthe sprawling streets below, feeling the pulse of life, of laughter, of rebuilding-but beneath it all, I felt it: a subtle vibration, a whisper in the air that prickled at the edges of my mind. Something was wrong. Something hidden. Something waiting. I adjusted my cloak against the morning breeze, the smell offresh bread and wood smoke drifting up from the plazas below.
Children ran through the streets, their laughter spilling into thealleyways, bouncing off the walls of rebuilt homes. Merchantsset up stalls, displaying fruits, fabrics, and handmade crafts. The Network of Light pulsed faintly beneath the surface ofeverything, invisible but alive, connecting towns, villages, andcities in a web of protection and faith. And yet. the shadow lingered.