Ravenbreath

Smoldering Silence After the Flames: The Fire That Remains

The fires are gone, but their hunger lingers. Charred timbers lean like broken ribs, and the air carries the scent of ruin, still fresh despite the silence. No banners remain, no soldiers linger—only the husks of what once stood. The roads are quiet now, the only sound the creak of scorched beams and the brittle crunch of ash beneath wandering feet.
Some say the land itself remembers, refusing to cool, refusing to heal. Those who return do so with hollow eyes and questions they dare not ask. Was it vengeance? Cleansing? Or simply cruelty wrapped in righteousness? The buildings may fall, the people may scatter, but the fire—that part never truly leaves.