The silence that filled the forest after the battle was not one of peace, but of mourning. The smell of blood still permeated the air, mixed with the icy chill Amelia had left behind. The trees, twisted and wet with the night dew, seemed to watch the four travelers—the princess in the center, protected by the three guardians.
They walked to a small clearing where the ground was not covered in corpses and uprooted roots. There, finally, Irelia stopped and took a deep breath, wiping away the dried blood that still dripped from her arm. Amelia and Sylphie approached, the princess staying close to the natural mage, as if her presence were a safe haven.
Irelia broke the silence first:
"We must decide now which path to take." Her dark eyes swept the forest. "Today's ambush proves we are not safe. Someone knows we are taking the princess to Azalith."
Amelia raised an eyebrow, resting her staff on the frozen ground.
