Joel moved quickly, his focus sharp like a hunter on the trail. Within the hour, his chosen scouts, all were silent and skilled persons, gathered in the palace courtyard.
Dressed in dark leather, they were lean, strong, and used to tough terrain and secret missions. Joel gave clear orders: find a hidden alchemist, bring her back unharmed, and keep the mission quiet.
Time was running out. The poisoned snow was melting, now spreading its damage, and he knew every wasted moment meant more suffering for the kingdom.
The journey to find the alchemist was exhausting. They rode fast, pushing their horses through narrow mountain paths and dry plains.
Their only guides were old maps and the vague clues Viana had given about a forgotten county near the Whisperwind Mountains. Days blurred into a cycle of cold camps beneath indifferent stars, hurried meals, and endless travel.
