145

*Zarek

The road to Crimson-Valley does not welcome travellers. It stretches on, dry and cracked, with untraceable whispers... By the time we pass the last village before Crimson-Valley, I know for certain—we are no longer in a place ruled by mere men.

We travel in a truck that is not ours. Leonis took it from a man who should have held his keys tighter. Maera had warned against anything too loud,