The arcane carriage shuddered, trembling violently under the invisible force that held it suspended. Runes etched along the wooden frame flickered erratically, their magic struggling to maintain the enchantments that kept the carriage afloat. Draven sat at the window, his eyes narrowed, his expression as cold and calculating as ever. The landscape beyond had transformed—the wide, open skies were gone, replaced by jagged cliffs and a rocky, mountainous terrain. Towering cliffs surrounded them, hemming the carriage in on all sides.
They were descending, pulled forcefully down toward the treacherous terrain below. The abrupt halt had been no accident. They had been lured into a trap. Draven's sharp gaze moved across the scene, taking in every detail, analyzing the situation with unnerving calmness. The movement was deliberate; whoever had brought them here knew exactly what they were doing. There was no room for error.
