Zoya, stood tall and defiant, her silver hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of moonlight.
Her piercing grey eyes, tinged with a hint of sadness, surveyed the scene before her as she was surrounded by the warriors of the Order of the Silver Dawn. These skilled fighters, their armor gleaming in the sunlight, were known throughout the kingdom for their mastery of both sword and sorcery.
The carriage, ornately decorated with intricate silver filigree, awaited its reluctant passenger. Its wooden frame creaked slightly under the weight of anticipation, as if eager to begin its journey. The horses, powerful beasts with muscles rippling beneath their sleek coats, pawed at the ground impatiently, their breath forming misty clouds in the chill morning air.
