For three months, Luke and Master Borris journeyed through treacherous terrain, leaving behind the safety of the royal capital. Luke had not informed Anya and Gerald of the details of this particular journey. It was a path that only mages could walk, one steeped in the elemental legacy of the Ignis spirit, and only Master Borris—who understood the intricacies of fire magic—could guide him through it. The rest of his team was left behind, unaware of the dangers that awaited.
As they traveled, the landscape shifted around them. The dense forests of the kingdom gradually gave way to barren, arid plains where the air grew thick with dust. The wind howled through the wide expanses, carrying with it the scent of sulfur and ash. The amulet, always warm against Luke's chest, seemed to pulse in rhythm with the land itself, guiding their steps toward an uncertain destination.
