The sea was quiet.
Too quiet.
The Blood Council ships were gone from sight, but the damage they left behind remained carved into stone and flesh.
The southern cliff was cracked in three places.
The gate near the dock had collapsed halfway inward.
Smoke still rose faintly from broken lanterns.
No one celebrated.
There was no victory cry.
Only breathing.
Heavy breathing.
Darius stood in the middle of the courtyard, blood on his sleeve that was not his own.
"Count the injured," he said calmly.
"Separate those who can still fight from those who cannot."
Guild members moved quickly.
Some limped.
Some leaned on each other.
Mira sat against the stone fountain, her shoulder wrapped tightly in cloth. She did not complain, but her jaw was tight.
Megan paced near the broken gate, replaying the fight in her mind.
Kael stood a few steps away from the cavern entrance, eyes fixed on the ground.
Below near the dock, Varric finally allowed himself to sit.
