The western valley's main keep glowed under a late afternoon sun, its bone walls warmed by flickering torches as a crowd gathered in the central hall. Kael El stood at a long wooden table, his team freshly returned from the southern ruin, their packs heavy with the First Code's runes. Stormforged Blade rested against the table, shard-pommel humming faintly, like a pulse caught in the air. EX: Dragonflame Reaver lay sheathed at his hip, Stormhide Armor shed for a simple tunic, Lyra's fierce spirit and Rhea's gentle love grounding his weary soul. His flirty smirk was absent, replaced by a steady gaze, masking a quiet tension—the First Code's promise, the Dusk Enclave's uneasy presence, and the valley's fragile unity pressing on his heart. He brushed EX: Gold Dominion, golden veins threading faintly through the hall's stone floor, molten but calm, echoing the shard's gentle pulse.