The following day, we made toward the distant city. With the end of our month-long journey in sight, Soltair and Trithe were in high spirits, constantly skipping ahead, only turning and waiting impatiently for me to catch up. Fyren remained at my side, but I felt somewhat awkward around him. Why exactly was he so interested in me?
As we approached the city through a low, winding valley, I recognized the towering walls. They rested high above us, built into the mountain itself, but the tips of the central citadel peaked behind the stone curtains.
I took a shaky breath, summoning my staff just so I had something to hold on to. Judging from the lack of damage, the dragon had yet to strike, but for how long? As far as I could tell, none of my visions had been inaccurate, although many hadn't come to pass yet, which meant it was only a matter of time.
