Night had fallen. Their match had gone on for much longer.
The warriors dragged their feet as they marched through the forest grounds. They were miles away from the palace grounds. The air was thick and heavy with something they couldn't name; even the most seasoned warriors felt it pressing against their lungs.
No one spoke at first.
Only the sound of boots against damp earth, armor shifting, and the occasional snap of a branch filled the silence.
At the front, leading them was Thorne. He did not slow down, nor did he pause for a second. They walked for hours, and not once did they pause to take a break.
Behind him, Caelum rode beside Mason. His posture was rigid, despite the pain that lingered in his body. His arm was bound tightly to his side, the injury slowing him down.
Next to him, Mason exhaled, his gaze sweeping over the endless trees ahead. He looked up at the sky, seeing the stars scattered among the sky.
