Duran Mountains — Southern Entrance
A cold wind swept down from the jagged peaks, carrying the faint scent of pine and distant smoke.
Leon sat perched on a weathered tree stump at the mouth of the valley, legs crossed casually, masked face tilted slightly upward as though he were merely enjoying the afternoon breeze. The crimson glow behind the slits of his mask remained steady, unreadable.
Beside him stood Rees, arms folded. Enid clung to Leon's hand with both of hers, knuckles white, worry etched deep into her delicate features.
High above, Fruela balanced effortlessly on the highest branch of an ancient black pine, eyes narrowed, tracking every flicker of movement in the canopy—birds scattering, animals freezing mid-step as they looked around, even the smallest rodents bolting for cover.
Further along the ridge, Dredis crouched in the shadow of another tree, black assassin garb blending perfectly with the bark. He watched the strange group below with growing confusion.
