"All right, everyone's here," Myna said quietly. "Ryan—fully healed up?"
"Yes. Good to go," Ryan replied.
"Good." Myna's gaze moved across the group. "Gerald, you stay at the back like before." She turned slightly. "Micah, you're with Ryan and Eleanor in the centre. Richard and I will take the front."
The middle-aged guard stepped closer without a word, settling in beside Ryan and Eleanor with practiced ease.
Gerald, the silent guard who was protecting Ryan's hospital room, moved to the back of the group.
Myna nodded once. "Micah—double-check. You've got the gear?"
"Yeah. Right here," Micah answered, shifting the large leather pack on his shoulders.
"Good. Then let's ge—"
"Wait!"
A voice broke through the line. A scrawny boy, no older than nineteen, hurried toward them from the edge of the camp, boots slipping slightly on the packed dirt. He stopped too close, breathing harder than the short run warranted.
"I'm coming with you," he said quickly.
Myna turned, one brow lifting. "You are?"
The boy nodded, fingers twisting in the hem of his tunic. He glanced at Ryan first, then Eleanor, before forcing himself to meet Myna's eyes. "I'm Ben, my father—Commander Halren—sent me," he said, the words tumbling out before he slowed himself. "He said I need to deliver a message to the Coalition. It's… important."
Silence settled over the group.
Myna studied him for a long moment.
At last, she spoke. "You understand we're travelling on foot. No turning back."
"Yes," the boy said immediately.
A fraction of tension slipped from his shoulders before he caught himself.
Myna exhaled through her nose. "Fine. You stay in the middle. Don't wander. Don't slow us down."
The boy nodded again, a little too eagerly, and moved into position.
"Right," Myna said, turning back to the path ahead. "We move now."
The group moved steadily, the path carved into the mountainside winding higher and higher. The air was thin and crisp, carrying the scent of stone, snow, and faint traces of smoke from fire down in the valley. The crunch of boots on packed dirt, the soft jingle of equipment, and the occasional whisper of wind through the peaks created a rhythm to their climb.
Hours passed. The pathway zigzagged endlessly, the mountain sprawled in every direction, their jagged peaks covered in snow glinting faintly in the dimming sunlight. Streams whispered over rocks, sending icy hints into the air, while the tang of damp earth mixed with snow. The climb was exhausting, but the group continued on.
The sun finally faded below the horizon. The path was now solely illuminated by the moon.
"Be careful where you step, if you fall off it's on me. And keep your eyes peeled. There are beasts in these mountains." Myna warned.
Suddenly, the valley below flared.
Flames erupted across the valley forest like a living wave, the orange glow painting the night sky. Smoke coiled upward, carrying a sharp, acrid tang that burned their nostrils. Eleanor's hand went to her mouth. "What happened?"
"It was a trap, set by the commander—Hopefully hundreds of Elves are screaming as they burn alive." Myna muttered, notes of anger creeping up her voice.
"It's not a good sign though. It means they managed to pass Aldric's encampment within… hours." Myna continued with a sullen expression.
Ben, walking slightly ahead, shifted his weight uneasily, sulking just enough to show the tight edge to his shoulders. He avoided their eyes, glancing toward the flames with a stiff jaw.
Ryan noticed. "Ben's father is down there," he murmured to Eleanor.
Eleanor nodded softly. "Yeah… Poor kid."
As they climbed further, the path widened into a narrow canyon. There, the first fortress emerged from the night, carved directly from the mountain cliffs. Snow clung to the jagged stone, glittering faintly in the moonlight. Torches flickered along the walls, casting long shadows across the icy surfaces.
The fortress was enormous, stretching from one peak to the other. Towers rose from the battlements, spires cutting into the night sky, and the walls themselves seemed to grow from the mountain. Between the peaks, a massive gate framed the narrow canyon, the only passage through this stretch of the range. In front of the gate were watchtowers bristled with soldiers scanning the heights.
Myna raised a hand. "Keep tight. When we pass that gate it'll be packed with humans, I don't want either of you to get lost. We move carefully until we reach the commander of this fort, we'll be staying here tonight until the sun breaks."
The soldiers fell into formation, boots scraping lightly against stone, the distant roar of the fire still echoed faintly.
The peaks on either side of the fortress rose impossibly high, a reminder that the mountain itself was as much a barrier as the walls before them. As Ryan came closer to the fortress' walls, he noticed small engravings.
Are these runes?