The frosty air of Aiyaka grew denser as dusk approached. Underneath the mesmerizing canopy of shimmering constellations, the weary weight of our journey began to press heavily on my shoulders. I could sense the fatigue that enveloped us, particularly in Matterinna. Her usual vibrant purple eyes seemed dimmed, a testament to the weeks she had spent transformed as our draconic steed, carrying us across vast distances.
In the chilling silence, my father's voice pierced the air. "Night is our ally, Max. Under its cloak, Erron's defenses wane."
His words were firm, his stance resolute. My attempts to reason with him felt like trying to divert a raging river with mere pebbles. "Father," I began, my voice wavering with a mixture of fatigue and hope, "we've journeyed long and hard. We could all benefit from a night's rest, to face tomorrow's challenges with renewed vigor."
