As they walked, the silence between them was comfortable, punctuated only by the sound of their footsteps and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.
Ryan's thoughts turned to his new identity as Prince Arin. It was still hard to wrap his head around – he, a prince? It seemed absurd. But at the same time, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was who he was meant to be.
Eryndor, sensing Ryan's unease, placed a hand on his shoulder. "You'll get used to it, Prince Arin," he said with a reassuring smile. "You were born for this."
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Born for this?" he repeated. "I'm not even from this world."
Eryndor's expression turned serious. "That may be true, but you have a crucial role to play in the fate of Eldrador. And I'm not just talking about reclaiming your throne."
Ryan's curiosity was piqued. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Eryndor hesitated, as if unsure how much to reveal. "Let's just say that the fate of Eldrador is tied to your own destiny, Prince Arin. And the journey ahead of us will be fraught with danger."
Ryan's grip on his sword tightened, a sense of determination rising within him. He was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, to reclaim his throne and forge a new future for Eldrador.
But as they walked, the shadows deepening around them, Ryan couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. That unblinking eyes were trained on them, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.