The mountains did not welcome them.
That was the first thing Elowen noticed as the forest's last breath of warmth disappeared behind them and the open terrain swallowed the trail whole. The ground beneath her boots changed — softer earth giving way to pale, cracked stone that groaned faintly with each step, as though the land itself resented being walked upon. The sky above had shifted too, the dim light of earlier now pressing down like a bruise, grey and heavy, clouds sitting too low, too still, too deliberate.
Lyra moved restlessly inside her. Not with fear. With warning.
Elowen kept her sword close, her fingers wrapped tight around the hilt. Beside her, Alaric's eyes swept the ridgeline in slow, practiced arcs, reading the terrain the way trained soldiers read enemy formations. He h
