The city was a distant memory as we left the citadel behind. The dark, rain-soaked streets gave way to a winding road flanked by barren fields and twisted, leafless trees. In the oppressive silence of the unyielding night, every step we took felt weighted with the gravity of our choices. The High Order's ultimatum still echoed in my mind—a ticking clock that would determine whether I would control the power of the Codex or be consumed by it.
Cairon led the way on horseback, his determined gait a constant reminder that he was with me through every trial. I rode beside him, my heart thudding in rhythm with the steady clatter of hooves on wet cobblestones. The night air was sharp, the scent of rain and ash mingling as if the world itself mourned the collapse of the ancient temple. Every so often, I would catch a glimpse of my reflection in a puddle—a face haunted by doubt and fire, eyes burning with a mixture of defiance and sorrow.
