The night air was cool, carrying with it the distant sounds of the forest—rustling leaves, the occasional snap of a twig, and the faint chirping of unseen creatures. The glow of the fire flickered across Nate's face as he sat on a worn piece of cloth, his back resting against a fallen tree. His muscles ached slightly from days of travel, but he barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thought.
They had been walking for four days now. The endless stretch of golden sand was finally behind them, giving way to dense forests filled with towering trees and thick undergrowth. According to the king, they were close. Just one more day, and they would reach their destination.
On the journey, they had encountered beasts. But every time one attacked, the hunters handled it effortlessly. The king's guards, too, showed no hesitation in cutting them down, as if they had done this a thousand times before.
What interested Nate more, however, was what the king did afterward.
