"My feet are completely broken," Khaos announced to the empty cliff.
"Your feet are perfectly fine," Silas replied calmly. The blind monk did not stop walking. His brass rings chimed a steady rhythm against the rocky ground.
"I have been walking for thirty entire days," Khaos argued, dragging his ruined leather boots across the sharp stones. "I am a growing boy. I need a proper bed. I need a carriage. I need five sweet buns right now."
"Complaining consumes energy," Silas stated. "Save your breath. We have arrived."
Khaos stopped dragging his feet. He looked past the blind monk. The dense forest had finally ended. They stood at the very edge of a massive cliff. Below them was an endless ocean of thick white fog. The fog churned and twisted violently, hiding the ground far below.
"This is a dead end," Khaos frowned. "You walked us off a cliff. You really are blind."
"Look up," Silas instructed.
