The march began under a sky heavy with clouds. The air smelled of coming rain, thick and metallic, as if the storm itself walked with them. Cloaked figures slipped through the ruined northern road, carrying weapons that rattled softly in the silence.
Kael moved at the center of the column, hood pulled low. His eyes scanned every shadow, every crag of rock along the hillsides. He could feel the storm itching in his blood, restless, warning him of something unseen.
“We should’ve left before dawn,” Joren muttered, trudging close behind. “The longer we walk in daylight, the greater the chance they see us.”
“They already see us,” Elira answered, voice sharp. “The Dominion has eyes everywhere. Better to face them head-on than cower in the dark.”
Mira walked beside Kael, her gaze flicking tow
