The Enclave's army moved in a steady line, the rhythmic march of boots and hooves cutting through the stillness of the land. As they journeyed toward Shadowfell Valley, the landscape around them grew harsher—dark, jagged rocks jutted from the earth like the bones of ancient beasts, and a low mist clung to the ground, thickening with each step. The air itself seemed to change, becoming heavier and more oppressive, as if the very land resisted their presence.
Elara rode at the head of the column, her eyes scanning the horizon. Though the sun was still high, its light was muted, shrouded by ominous clouds that had gathered in the distance. There was a sense of foreboding in the atmosphere, a subtle whisper in the wind that warned of what was to come. Beside her rode Kael and Seraphina, their expressions reflecting the same tension that gripped her.
