Elise drew a steadying breath, her resolve unyielding. “We only need to reach the mountain lodge. Let us hasten our steps.”
Their passage from Rotiara in Van Yela’s south-central heartland to Regal in the south presented two daunting challenges. The first obstacle lay in traversing the borders of Rotiara itself, while the second loomed at the threshold of Van Yela.
During her three-month seclusion atop Rotiara Castle, Elise had tirelessly schemed with Ivetsa, exploring every avenue of escape beyond the castle’s confines. Initially, her preference leaned towards a southerly route, aiming to traverse the Tene River and venture towards the south. However, practicality dictated otherwise. Three months prior, after the Argan army’s failed sabotage attempt on the Tene River had been thwarted, Rezette bolstered Rotiara’s southern defenses significantly, rendering any southward escape futile.
Left with no alternative, Elise was compelled to pivot her plans. To the north lay the only viable escape route from Rotiara. Though picturesque with its vibrant autumnal foliage, the reality of the terrain proved treacherous and unforgiving.
“I don’t see any signs of pursuit… yet,” Ivetsa muttered, casting nervous glances over her shoulder. However, even beneath the moon’s gentle illumination, the path they tread remained obscured.
“Naturally, if knights were easily discernible, our fate would already be sealed,” Elise remarked dryly.
“They won’t simply abandon the search in these mountains,” Ivetsa countered, unable to hide her apprehension.
Elise brushed aside the beads of sweat that dotted her brow, her movements labored. “Rezette underestimates my strength. He’s the kind of person who won’t even allow me to ride alone. He probably assumes I wouldn’t dare to venture into the mountains unless I’m insane.”
“I share his sentiment, Your Highness. Even for seasoned travelers, navigating these mountains by night is a formidable challenge…”
Elise coughed, a metallic tang lingering in her throat, perhaps the toll the altitude exacted. The air, though frigid, failed to quell the feverish warmth that suffused her body.
“Yes, indeed. Yet, it is to be expected,” she conceded.
Elise found herself relying on her own two feet for the first time since her escape from Argan Castle. Unfortunately, her physical condition had only recently begun to improve, leaving her stamina dwindling with each passing hour. Yet, despite the strain on her body, her mind remained surprisingly sharp and focused.
If our bodies falter, we must rely on our will, she reminded herself, pushing through the exhaustion with sheer determination. I can only hope our pursuers are delayed…
Their plan had never entailed a full crossing of the mountains; their aim was merely to buy precious time. As they pressed onward, Ivetsa, a few paces ahead of Elise, suddenly whispered with urgency.
“There, Your Highness! That’s it, just ahead.”
Following Ivetsa’s gaze, Elise’s eyes fell upon a weathered, single-story cabin nestled amidst the rugged terrain. Its wooden walls, worn and weather-beaten, bore the scars of time. This mountain refuge, discovered by Ivetsa a month prior, had once served as an emergency shelter for the mountain guard who once patrolled these peaks.
“I’ve stocked provisions and firewood inside,” Ivetsa explained, her voice laced with relief. “And I’ve tidied it up, so you can rest for a while.”
With renewed determination, Elise summoned the last of her strength and entered the cabin. The sight of a white dove fluttering its wings atop a cluttered table brought a sense of solace amidst the chaos of their flight.
“Hello, you’ve arrived safely.” A man named Jonas greeted Elise before swiftly departing through the open window, leaving behind a sense of camaraderie in his wake.
As Ivetsa hastened to secure the door and kindle a fire in the hearth, Elise collapsed to the floor, her strength ebbing away. Removing the robe that had cloaked her, she revealed the pajamas she had hurriedly donned before their flight, now exposed to the chill of the mountain air.
Left wing bone.
Elise’s hand instinctively sought out one of the four remaining magic runes inscribed upon her body, nestled near her left wing bone. With a firm touch, she applied pressure, eliciting a tingling sensation that pulsed through her.
“Andrei.”
The precious name escaped her lips in a whisper, igniting the dormant magic within her.
A translucent aura enveloped Elise, expanding gradually until it enveloped Ivetsa and eventually shrouded the entire cabin in its protective embrace. In her dreams, Andrei had imparted detailed instructions on manipulating the magic runes adorning her body.
“The magic inscribed upon you is a spell born of my magic circuit,” he had explained. “By invoking my name, you activate it. Yet, the power it wields is your own. Thus, you possess the ability to adjust its magnitude as you see fit.”
Recalling the immense defensive barrier she had unwittingly conjured during the siege by Ugel’s army, Elise gauged the flow of magic within her and withdrew her hand once satisfied. The dome-shaped barrier encased the cabin, veiling it from prying eyes—a temporary concealment spell lasting a day.
With the tension in her shoulders finally easing, fatigue surged over Elise like a torrent. Moreover, an unsettling ache gnawed at her stomach, casting a pall over her weary frame.
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