In the silent aftermath of war, where the earth still remembers the weight of steel and fire, an elven warrior pauses.
Before her, not an enemy rises, but a small dragon — fragile, curious, alive.
In a place shaped by destruction, their meeting becomes an unspoken promise: that even among ruins, something pure can still be born.
The warrior lowers her guard, not out of weakness, but out of recognition.

This is not the end of a battle.

It is the first breath of a new beginning.