The ride to Aeryndor was brutal. The landscape changed from dense forests to rolling hills, and then to wide, windswept plains, but the sense of urgency never left them. Each hour felt like it carried the weight of their impending failure, the threat of the hunters chasing them from behind, and the looming knowledge of what lay ahead.
Elara kept her gaze fixed on the horizon, the jagged silhouette of Aeryndor's towers barely visible in the distance. The city was still days away, but the tension in the group grew with each passing mile. Their mission was clear, but so were the dangers that awaited them.
"We should stop soon," Aric called from behind, his voice strained. "The horses need rest, and so do we."
Elara slowed her pace, reluctantly agreeing. They couldn't afford to push their mounts too hard. They had barely escaped the hunters in the village, and while they had gained a lead, it wouldn't last if they didn't regroup.
