The journey north took longer than she expected.
Lira, Renkai, and Serelyth soared for days over rolling hills, forests fading into tundra, and rivers turning to ribbons of ice. The air grew sharper with every mile, tasting faintly of salt and frost. Even the clouds seemed different here—heavier, low, brushing against the mountaintops like silver veils.
"Feels like the edge of the world," Serelyth murmured, wings tucked close as cold wind rippled her scales.
Lira nodded, pulling her cloak tighter. "It's where the lands meet the sea's breath. Perfect place for an item of balance to hide."
By dusk on the fifth day, they reached the northern cliffs—a wild stretch where the ocean roared endlessly against black rock. The wind howled like ancient voices, and waves struck with a power that vibrated through their bones. Tiny crystals of salt clung to Lira's lashes.
