The descent into the valley was slow and treacherous. The mist clung to their clothes and hair like damp cobwebs, swirling around their feet and masking the uneven path ahead. Each step felt like moving deeper into the belly of some ancient, sleeping beast. The only sounds were the faint crunch of gravel beneath their boots and the rhythmic beat of their breaths in the cold air.
Caroline led the group, her face pale but set with determination. The invisible pull in her chest was relentless now, like a taut chain pulling her toward an unseen anchor. Ezra followed closely behind her, his sword in hand and his sharp eyes sweeping the path ahead.
The others walked in silence, each carrying their own burdens, their own unspoken fears. The further they went, the more the mist seemed to thicken
