The sky overhead had taken on a peculiar hue—neither dawn nor dusk. A dull bronze tint lined the clouds, casting a strange amber glow across the fields.
The ground here was cracked in long lines, like veins through pale stone, as though the earth had been scorched and healed poorly.
Argolaith looked to the horizon. "The air's too still."
Malakar nodded. "We are nearing an old fracture. A place where time and energy were once split. The terrain remembers."
Kaelred frowned. "Wonderful. Another 'time might break here' zone. Can we go around?"
"We could," Malakar said. "But the root fragment pulls through it."
Argolaith adjusted his belt. "Then we go through."
Thae'Zirak's voice echoed from above. "Something moves ahead. Three miles out. Too far to identify."
"More beasts?" Kaelred asked.
"No," the dragon said. "Too organized."
They found the remnants of a camp an hour later.
