After running for what felt like an eternity, their eyes finally caught sight of a massive iron gate looming ahead. It stood as a symbol of both protection and uncertainty, guarded by a contingent of heavily armed soldiers. The soldiers, their armor gleaming in the dim light, turned their heads towards the group sprinting towards them. Their eyes showed a mix of wariness and readiness, prepared to defend the gate at any cost.
"We have arrived, your grace," the guide said, his voice filled with a mix of relief and exhaustion. The unusually large raven that had been guiding them flew back and perched on top of him, its eyes darting around vigilantly, as if guarding their path.
The Winter King's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the gate. It represented a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded them. The hope for safety and refuge rekindled within his weary soul.
