The army marched for two days toward the northern mountains.
Lena led them through forests thick with ancient trees, their branches interlocking overhead to form a canopy that blocked out the sky. The ground beneath their feet was soft with fallen leaves and centuries of decay, muffling their footsteps as they moved. Rivers crossed their path, cold and fast, forcing them to wade through water that numbed their legs and stole their breath. Her light was a beacon in the gathering darkness, a golden glow that pushed back the shadows and guided her people forward.
Kael ran beside her in wolf form, his powerful body low to the ground, his golden eyes scanning the trees for any sign of danger. His ears swiveled with every sound, the call of a bird, the rustle of a small animal, the distant rum
