The land began to rise gently at first, the road narrowing as it leaned toward the mountains. The air grew cooler with every mile, carrying the scent of stone, pine resin, and distant snow. Lira breathed deeply, welcoming the change. Her body felt lighter here, less burdened by heat and sand.
They traveled mostly in silence. Not the uneasy silence of fear, but the steady quiet of people who knew how to listen.
Along the mountain's lower slopes, Lira found new life everywhere. Low shrubs with silver-veined leaves clung to rocks, their roots gripping stone as if refusing to be moved. She knelt often, carefully collecting seeds and cuttings, murmuring thanks under her breath.
"These thrive where nothing else should," she said, holding one up to the light. "They'd be perfect for erosion control… or healing draughts."
Rose smiled from the chariot. "Mountain plants are stubborn," she said. "Like the people who live near them."
