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There was a pause, a weight in his words, before he suddenly tilted his head upwards, nostrils flaring.
His face turned somber. “Do you smell that?” he asked.
I took a deep breath, trying to discern what had alarmed him but smelled nothing.
“It’s the fog,” Anlon murmured, his gaze distant. “It is coming.”
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
The fog — the harbinger of unseen horrors, creatures from beyond our realm.
The fact that mining the Anto’skar triggered its arrival made it even more ominous.
I remembered the tales, the warnings, and the chilling stories Madison had told me.
Lorik’s grip on my hand tightened, his eyes filled with concern. “We need to find shelter,” he stated, his tone urgent.
Anlon nodded. “There’s a small cave system not too far from here. It should offer you protection from the fog.”
I was about to thank him when he continued:
“But I must go my own way. I have someplace safe to be, and it’s time I returned.”
“We won’t forget you, Anlon,” I said, my voice thick with gratitude and emotion.
He smiled a genuine, heartfelt smile. “And I won’t forget you either. All three of you. Stay safe and remember: sometimes, the heart knows things the mind can’t explain.”
With those parting words, he spurred his Hiika into a gallop, his silhouette quickly fading into the distance.
Lorik and I shared a long, lingering look.
We’d face whatever challenges lay ahead together.
Spurring our Hiikas, we headed towards the cave system Anlon had mentioned.
The world had takenon a golden hue as we reached the crest of the hill, with the setting sun casting a warm amber glow across the landscape.
It felt as if we were stepping into a painting, the vivid colors made all the more majestic by long, darkening shadows.
The scent of freshly turned soil met my nostrils, mixed with the subtle aroma of distant wood smoke.
The rhythmic chirping of cicadas filled the air, and the gentle rustling of leaves added to the orchestra of nature.
“There,” Aznai pointed out, drawing my gaze to a house carved into the base of the hill.
A picturesque barn stood next to it, and beyond that were vast fields where crops swayed in the evening breeze.
Without a word, we made our way down the hill, the ground slightly damp beneath our feet.
Aznai, though bruised and battered, was silent and steadfast.
His loyalty to Lorik was evident, and I couldn’t help but admire him for it.
Approaching the farm, a feeling of unease washed over me.
Maybe it was the impending storm, but something felt off.
The house, while beautiful, had a sense of solitude that felt almost eerie.
