They entered through the arch which extended as a path, as a promise of what they are to find. The wind blew softly to caress the trees behind them as if the grove was just watching them wean off.
After the arch there was a clearly visible transition on the other side of the land.
It was quieter here. Dimness of color hit my eyes – the ground was anemic now, like a sketch scraped into the sand and washed by rains. Small hills no longer slid through the landscape like a play ball. However, the land changed to plains in this city instead of hilly terrains that are common in many cities. Icy wisps of fog still curled onto the ground while depriving efforts and crawling like an old man with aches across the stones and roots of the night.
"Great, you've really done your homework," Arden replied.
Serakha followed the gaze downwards and saw a knot in the palm of her hand. It still glowed, in a way, albeit faint and in slow rhythm. "It's holding back," she said. "Like it's waiting."
