The Icefang Cliffs loomed in the distance.
Sharp and jagged like broken teeth biting into the horizon, they jutted from the frozen ground in cruel angles, rising higher with each step forward. Cold winds swept down from the mountains, brushing frost through the trees and sending a low, eerie whistle across the land.
The cold was biting, but the sight brought something else—purpose.
They were getting close.
Darin exhaled a puff of white breath, watching it drift away. "So that's the Icefang Cliffs."
"Charming, aren't they?" the Sorceress muttered, returning from the prisoner tents, snow clinging to the hem of her cloak. Her tone was dry. Her expression sharper than the wind.
Darin turned to her. "Did you get anything from the Onis?"
"I did." She flicked her hand, conjuring a brief burst of flame to melt the snow from her sleeves. "Everything."
By midday, the camp had gathered.
