Chapter TwelveElzor sat beside a small fire his men had created from the branches of several dead trees near their encampment, just outside a pair of tents erected for both himself and his sister. He sat alone, warming his hands against the chilly night air as he cast his eyes skyward. Thick clouds loomed in the distance but did not seem to be moving in their direction.
He and his army had spent the day riding in what Langon believed was the most direct route to the northern edge of the Kaberian Mountains. They had officially left Agrus behind when the clutch of nipa trees, which grew prevalently all over the country, became sparse. By the time the tree line disappeared over the horizon behind them, they reached the dry and dusty hardpan marking the Praskian Desert. If they didn't run int
