The forest seemed to watch them.
Every charred trunk, every branch twisted by Kael's fire, reached out as if to grab them, the fingers of an invisible creature moving alongside them. The sodden ground sucked in their footsteps, spitting out viscous sounds, while even the river in the distance seemed to murmur in a muffled tone beneath the suffocating veil of smoke that still hung in the air.
Irelia led the way, sword in hand, every muscle rigid as stone. There was no room for hesitation. The roar of Kael's flames still echoed behind them, but now it was mixed with other sounds—screams, orders piercing the air, the metallic clang of marching armor. The hunt continued.
They weren't just fleeing. They were being hunted.
The Princess followed close behind, her posture erect even in the chaos. Her torn, blood-stained dress did nothing to diminish her imposing presence; On the contrary, her imperturbable coolness was almost more unsettling than if she'd been gripped by panic.