The sun sat high in the sky, bathing the Vossmer estate's grand gates in golden light.
Elion, Verion, and Elara stood together in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they faced the opulent carriage that awaited Verion's departure.
Around the carriage, six mounted guards clad in Vossmer livery waited with discipline, their armor gleaming under the sunlight.
Standing just beside the carriage, Darius, the ever-dutiful head steward, bowed deeply. "Young Master Verion," he began, his voice calm and precise. "Everything is prepared for your journey to the Frozen Peak."
Verion nodded, acknowledging Darius's diligence. "Thank you," he replied simply, the weight of the moment reflected in his steady tone.
Beside him, Elion's brows furrowed, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. "I didn't think you'd leave this quickly," he muttered, a faint edge of irritation in his voice. "Why the rush? What's your hurry?"
