A thick, heavy mist, like a curtain of smoke and ash, had swallowed the path ahead of them.
Daniel and Eva were riding on the back of the Vorak. The sound of the beast's heavy breathing was audible.
Each breath they took pressed oddly on their chests, as if the air itself was weighted. They had set out about an hour ago, after eating lunch in the village.
Daniel glanced around. The massive walls of the valley were covered with carvings and markings eroded over time.
They reminded him vaguely of the stone engravings from his previous life, but he could tell these weren't decorative—they looked more like symbols and explanations.
"What happened here?" he asked after a bit of thought.
"Honestly... I'm not exactly sure. Most of what I know is from my father's stories. About a hundred and twenty years ago, this was a main road. The most important route connecting the continent of Arontir to the three others. The safest path, at least back then," Eva explained after taking a breath.
