The air was thick with exhaustion, the weight of the fight pressing on all of them now that the adrenaline had faded. The ground inside was cool and dry, a welcome contrast to the charred battlefield they had left behind. The cave walls, rough and jagged, stretched deep into the earth, offering a temporary sanctuary from the Shadowfern outside.
Without needing to speak, Nyra, Luken, and Valen immediately set to work setting up camp.
Nyra, still flexing her recently reattached arm, grabbed whatever loose branches and remnants of roots they could find anything that wasn't corrupted by the Threshen's influence. She moved with a sharp focus, her mind too occupied to dwell on the impossible nature of what she had done earlier.
Luken, still drained from burning the land itself, muttered a few words under his breath, and the twigs and branches ignited instantly, the fire snapping to life in the centre of the cave. The warm glow spread over their tired faces, flickering against the damp stone walls.
Valen dropped onto a flat section of rock, stretching his legs out with a heavy sigh. "We should've brought ale," he muttered, tilting his head back against the wall.
Luken, still looking like he had barely enough energy to sit upright, shot him a look. "If you have the strength to complain, you have the strength to help."
Valen grinned but didn't move. "I am helping. I'm keeping morale up."
Nyra snorted, shaking her head as she finished adjusting some of the firewood. "You can keep morale up by shutting up."
Tar, silent as ever, had already found a corner to rest in.
His massive form leaned against the rough stone wall, his breathing deep and slow. The Minotaur didn't show pain, but the gashes along his body told the story of the battle. Even with his incredible endurance, he had taken damage.
Still, he didn't ask for help but Nyra still glanced at him from time to time, watching carefully and then just outside the cave entrance, Thal stood alone, He didn't sit, didn't move to join them. He simply stood at the mouth of the cave, watching.
The Shadowfern loomed in the distance, its twisted trees still standing against the night, its cursed land still very much alive. The fight may have been won, but Thal knew this place was far from cleansed.
The fire behind him crackled softly. The others settled into whatever rest they could manage but Thal? He kept watching.
The night dragged on, the fire flickering softly in the cave, casting long shadows against the stone walls.
Tar, ever the silent presence, had finally allowed himself to rest. His massive form was settled in the corner, his breathing deep and steady, though his wounds still looked raw. His chest rose and fell slowly, his exhaustion finally catching up to him.
Nyra, after adjusting the wrappings around her arm still uneasy about what had happened earlier finally lay back against the cave wall, her axe close by. Her silver hair caught the firelight as her eyes drifted shut, her body too drained to fight off sleep any longer.
Even Valen, who had spent half the night making sarcastic remarks and stretching out like he wasn't covered in grime and dried blood, eventually gave in. His body slumped against the stone floor, his breathing evening out.
Luken, however, did not sleep.
He was the most drained, his body still burning with the remnants of his magic, his hands trembling slightly from how much energy he had poured into keeping the firestorm alive. His Kruul eye had finally dimmed, his horn still visible, his illusions still gone. But even as exhaustion weighed down on him, his gaze didn't leave the cave entrance.
He was watching Thal. The Nephilim had not moved.
He stood motionless at the mouth of the cave, his massive form illuminated by the dim glow of the fire behind him. His breath was steady, his posture unshaken, his golden eyes locked onto the Shadowfern beyond.
He was still watching, still waiting. Luken swallowed, his throat dry it didn't make sense.
Thal had taken the worst of it. He had been pierced, burned, crushed, buried, torn apart yet now, he stood as if none of it had ever happened. Like he didn't even feel it.
Luken's grip tightened slightly on his staff. Thal wasn't just powerful, he was unnatural and for the first time, Luken wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
But sleep was pulling at him, his body barely holding itself together. His vision blurred, his mind growing heavy and eventually, he gave in. As he finally slipped into unconsciousness, Thal remained unmoving. The last one awake, the last one standing.
Sleep finally claimed Luken, his body giving in despite his stubbornness. His breathing slowed, his grip on his staff loosening as exhaustion took over.
The fire crackled softly, its glow flickering against the cave walls.
Everyone else had already drifted off Nyra, Valen, and Tar, their bodies finally at rest after the brutal fight. Their breathing was steady, the weight of battle pulling them into a deep, needed slumber.
Thal, however, remained awake. He didn't pace, didn't shift, nor fidget. He simply stood at the entrance of the cave, arms crossed, golden eyes still fixed on the forest beyond. Resting, but not sleeping.
The Shadowfern was quiet. The cursed land still loomed beyond the tree line, its unnatural presence heavy even in the stillness of the night. The black river had settled, the twisted roots no longer writhing but it was still there. Alive. Waiting.
Thal exhaled slowly. He let his muscles relax, his stance loosening slightly, but his mind remained sharp. He didn't need sleep. Never had. But moments like these, when all was silent, when the battlefield was behind them, these were the closest things to rest that he ever allowed himself.
Nyra shifted in her sleep, her breathing growing uneven. The fire's dim light flickered against the sweat forming on her brow, her fingers twitching slightly as if grasping for something unseen.
Then her expression twisted. A sharp inhale. A faint tremble. She was dreaming.
Thal noticed immediately. From where he stood at the entrance, his gaze flicked toward her, watching as her body tensed, as her lips parted slightly in a soundless breath. A nightmare. He could tell.
Slowly, he stepped forward, his footsteps nearly silent despite his size. He lowered himself to the ground beside her, arms resting on his knees, watching closely as her nightmare unfolded.