The sky stretched endless and cold, the wind howling as it whipped around them.
Thae'Zirak flew swiftly, his massive wings slicing through the air, carrying them over the vast, ever changing terrain. Below them, the land shifted gradually growing darker, colder, and more unnatural with every passing mile.
The Hollow Bastion was still far away, but they were closing in on its reach.
Kaelred sat at the back of Thae'Zirak's shoulders, hunched against the cold, his arms folded tightly. His breath misted in the frigid air, and every so often, he stared down at the landscape below with increasing concern.
"Okay. This place is officially terrible," he muttered.
Argolaith, seated near the front, glanced back. "What do you see?"
Kaelred scowled. "A whole lot of nothing. But it's a weird kind of nothing."
He pointed down, and Argolaith followed his gaze.
