The first tendrils of dawn stretched across Valemir's skyline, painting ancient spires in hues of amber and gold. At the Moongate Inn, activity stirred well before the city proper awakened. David stood at the window, watching as a nondescript carriage bearing the insignia of a well-known wine merchant approached from the eastern thoroughfare. The vehicle's weathered exterior suggested regular commercial use, but his trained eye noted subtle reinforcements in the wheel hubs and traces of enchantment woven into the seemingly ordinary canvas covering.
"Right on time," he murmured, turning from the window to where Elara was securing her travel cloak. Their preparations had been minimal, a necessity born of both haste and caution. The fewer possessions they transported, the less attention they would draw.
