The journey to Raventhorn Castle grew darker with each passing mile. The snow-laden trees thickened, their gnarled branches weaving an ominous canopy overhead. The air was colder here, biting at exposed skin and seeping through even the thickest cloaks. Elara sat stiffly in the saddle, acutely aware of Kael’s presence behind her. His hands, steady and sure, held the reins, but he made no effort to speak, leaving her to the uneasy company of her thoughts.

“You’ve been quiet,” Kael’s voice broke the silence, deep and measured. “Do you fear what lies ahead?”

Elara hesitated, unsure if honesty would serve her well. “I fear the unknown, Your Grace. The stories about you and your lands are… unsettling.”

A faint smile played at the corner of Kael’s lips, though she could not see it. “And yet you came.”

“I had no choice,” she replied, her tone sharper than intended.

Kael’s gaze flicked to her, his silver eyes unreadable. “Choice is a luxury few can afford, Lady Elara. Remember that.”

The road narrowed as they approached a ravine, its cliffs veiled in mist. The guards signalled for a halt, their horses snorting nervously. Kael dismounted, his movements fluid and deliberate, and extended a hand to help Elara down.

“We’ll proceed on foot from here,” he said. “The bridge ahead is too fragile for the carriage.”

Elara’s boots crunched against the snow as she stepped down, her breath forming clouds in the frosty air. The guards formed a protective ring around them as they approached the bridge, a rickety structure of weathered wood and frayed ropes swaying precariously over the chasm.

“Is this truly the only way?” she asked, eyeing the bridge with trepidation.

“It is the safest,” Kael replied a hint of amusement in his voice. “Trust me.”

She bit back a retort and followed him onto the bridge, her steps careful and deliberate. The boards creaked ominously beneath their weight, and the wind howled through the ravine, carrying with it an eerie wail that sent a shiver down her spine.

Halfway across, the feeling struck her like a thunderclap. The hum of magic in her chest surged, sharp and insistent. She froze, her hand gripping the rope railing tightly. “Wait,” she whispered, her voice urgent. “There’s something…”

Kael turned to her, his expression alert. “What do you sense?”

Before she could answer, a shadow darted from the mist, swift and silent. One of the guards cried out, collapsing as a black-fletched arrow pierced his chest. Chaos erupted as more shadows emerged, their forms indistinct but menacing. Bandits—or something worse.

Kael drew his sword in a single, fluid motion, the blade gleaming with a faint, otherworldly light. “Stay close to me,” he commanded, positioning himself between Elara and their attackers.

Elara’s heart raced as the magic within her flared, unbidden. Her hands tingled with energy, a force she had always struggled to control. As the first attacker lunged at Kael, she felt the power surge, wild and untamed, and wondered if it would be enough to save them.