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But as I gaze out at the breathtaking vista spread before us, the pain and exhaustion seem to fade away. We’ve reached a summit, and the view is worth every scraped knee and aching muscle. My gaze sweeps across the horizon, searching for any familiar landmarks.

“Where is Jahanwatch?” I ask.

Darian points toward the northeast as his finger traces an invisible line across the sky. “Those three peaks form the Nohvan’s Head, a landmark east of Jahanwatch.”

I recognize the formation. It’s a familiar sight from the fortress.

Darian continues, his gaze fixed on some distant point, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Judging by the distance between us and the Nohvan’s Head, Jahanwatch should be roughly halfway but in the northwest direction.”

“Dusk is approaching. Are you saying we have to cover that distance in a day to make it back on time?” I gesture weakly toward the vast expanse before us.

“It’s a fool’s errand.” He shakes his head slowly, his eyes still distant, lips pressed into a thin line. “That distance won’t bend to our will.”

“But if the trial demands it—”

“I know the mountains, Arien,” he says firmly, though his tone is not harsh. “Izadeon is the Land of a Thousand Hills. This distance can’t be crossed in a day, on foot.”

My stomach sinks from his words. His calmness in the face of such an admission is downright unnerving. But then, he adds, “Horses! That’s what we need.”

I frown, my eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “Horses? Where are we going to find horses in this wilderness?”

“Our course is due west. Shemiran should be our eventual destination, but there are smaller villages along the way. If we can reach one by morning and get horses, we can make it to Jahanwatch before sundown.”

But the sinking feeling in my gut does not dissipate. “It’s a long shot. There is no guarantee we’ll find a village in time. ”

I suddenly feel the chill in the air deep in my bones.

“It’s our only hope. No choice but to try,” he replies, his jaw setting with determination.

Walking toward Shemiran instead of Jahanwatch is a dangerous gamble. However, considering we have already lost more than half the day when Darian was unconscious, I admit it’s the wisest choice.

We have no time to waste. We can’t afford to sleep, eat, or even rest. I’ve studied the maps and memorized the names of the villages in the Albir Mountains, but I don’t know their exact locations relative to where we are.

We are venturing into the unknown, relying on luck to find a village along our route.

I finally nod, and a silent agreement passes between us. As the world plunges into darkness, we wind our way along the edge of the mountain, the wind whipping at our faces.

My mind is a foggy haze from exhaustion.

By now, I have not slept in more than a day.

Darian moves ahead with the effortless grace of a mountain stag, the sigil of Izadeon, as his hand rests on his sword hilt.

His eyes are alert, and his head is on a swivel, prepared for any dangers lurking in the shadows.

The moon casts a silver glow on the gray landscape, revealing a beautiful view that offers no comfort. With each step, the wind grows colder, and my breath comes in ragged gasps as I struggle against the encroaching frost.

From time to time, Darian stops and blows the Izadeonian whistle hanging around his neck. It makes a sharp, piercing sound that cuts through the wind. But the mountains remain silent to its call, only proving our absolute solitude.

As the clouds begin to obscure the view of the moon, it becomes even more treacherous on the narrow ridge.

The wind moans like an injured animal; its melancholy wail fills my ears and mind as my body dances like a puppet to the tune of exhaustion.

When my vision blurs at the edges, and I finally stumble, Darian’s hand reaches for mine and steadies me.

“You must sleep. The road is long, and you’re exhausted.”

I shake my head. “I cannot. We don’t have time. ”

I fumble a small vial out of the pouch—one that I filled from the potions that Zanyar offered me. One gulp, and the world is back in focus again. The cold is no longer biting that hard, and I’m not trudging anymore.

“What’s that?” Darian asks, eyeing the vial.

“A gift from an enemy,” I say, holding the vial out to him. “Want some? It will lessen your fatigue.”

He bursts out laughing in amazement. “Keep the magic juice. You need it more than I do.” But his face turns serious again. “Remember, Arien, potions are only a temporary assistance. Ultimately, rest is what sustains you.”

Soon, our footsteps become the only sound in the night. Darian breaks into whistles now and then. The effect of the potion is quickly fading, and my body screams for a break. Ignoring Darian’s disapproving look, I reach into my pouch and extract the vial again, drowning the rest of the potion.

My body is heavy, but my mind becomes clearer. I know I need sleep, but this is enough to give me strength for a little longer. Hopefully, by then, we will reach a village.

As the last crumbs of our rations disappear, my body begins to scream for sleep again. But stubbornness keeps me going. Darian, though, seems capable of running up and down the mountain—if he didn’t have me to slow him down.

As I think that dawn must be near, the sky starts to darken, and angry clouds gather, hinting at a storm brewing.

Darian and I exchange a grim look but stay quiet, finding words useless in the face of our situation.

This ridge is dangerously narrow enough.

Add a storm, and the danger elevates to a realm of mortal threat.

Just as despair is about to permanently settle in my body, a break in the landscape presents itself before us. It’s a downward slope!

“This is a man-made path. There must be something down there,” Darian says.

Hope gives me new strength as we scramble down the steep path. It’s a welcome break from the climb up the ridge, though each step downward could easily lead to a fall .

The moon is now completely hidden behind ominous storm clouds, and the trees crowd closer together.

Now, in total darkness, every snap of a twig and every rustle of a leaf makes me jump.

This forest feels alive, filled with unseen dangers.

With each step, the idea of a hidden village somewhere in this wilderness starts to feel less believable.

Then, like a mirage, a cottage suddenly appears before us. I glance at Darian, but he doesn’t look excited. His body is tense as if he is expecting an ambush, and he peers warily around the area.

“What’s wrong?”

“Let’s be careful,” he says, extending his hand toward me.

I take his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm spreading up my arm, and we move forward with our senses on high alert.

Darian’s grip tightens as we get closer to the cottage.

No lights come from the windows, just an unnatural darkness.

The yard is a mess, with overgrown grass and junk scattered around.

The door’s hanging open, a clear sign of a forced entry.

An uneasy feeling creeps over me. My gaze darts around, and then… I see them… two points of light burning in the shadows.