The first light of a cold, grey dawn crept over the city's ancient walls as the covenant's heirs gathered once more in the council hall. Though the tumult of the previous night had begun to recede, an undercurrent of unease persisted—a subtle warning that the relics they now guarded, the Heart of the Veil and the Anchor of Light, were not without a price. In that silent, expectant moment, every face in the hall told its own story of triumph mingled with foreboding.