The road ahead stretched endlessly, a winding trail through wild terrain and desolate vistas. As they moved further from the sanctuary, the unease clinging to Eryndor grew heavier. The runes etched into her skin hummed faintly, a persistent whisper at the edges of her consciousness. Their hunger was undeniable, their need for dominance an ever-present threat. She had to stay vigilant, lest the power consume her.
Kaelen led the way, his usual carefree swagger muted by an uncommon seriousness. Even he seemed attuned to the tension in the air. Beside her, Seris marched with his characteristic stoicism, one hand always resting on the hilt of his sword, prepared for danger. Lyria’s cult might have been scattered, but their influence lingered like a shadow. Enemies could be waiting just out of
