The journey north took four days, each one colder and more unfamiliar than the last, until the gentle forests of the rogue territories gave way entirely to the harsh, snow covered peaks Clara had only ever heard described in stories.
Dorian proved an efficient if reserved travel companion, arranging shelter each night with practiced ease, though he offered little in the way of conversation beyond what was strictly necessary. Clara found herself grateful for the quiet, using the long hours of travel to prepare herself mentally for whatever awaited them at the Citadel, reviewing Mira's teachings over and over until the remedies and dosages felt etched permanently into her memory.
The landscape itself seemed to transform with each passing mile, the familiar woods of home giving way first to
