Back at camp, Luna had already prepared a fire pit and laid out their provisions for the evening meal. Her eyes narrowed slightly as they returned, noting the changed dynamic between them but making no comment.
As the day's light faded and stars began to appear overhead, the three travelers sat around the small fire, its flames carefully shielded to prevent detection from a distance. They spoke little, each occupied with their own thoughts.
Elara studied the map of their route to Valemir, memorizing key landmarks and potential dangers. Occasionally, her hand would rise to touch her face, as if reassuring herself that her disguise remained intact. The Archon of Lysora, reduced to a fugitive on mountain paths—it was a bitter transformation to accept.
