The eastern mountain paths grew steeper as our expedition pushed forward into increasingly unfamiliar territory. I clutched the midnight-blue stone in my palm, feeling its now-constant pulse matching my heartbeat. Two weeks of preparation had culminated in this journey—twelve of us total, including Princess Lyra, myself, four royal guards, two scholars, a medic, and three mountain guides provided by Korek.
"We're approaching the boundary," I said, consulting Uncle Everett's fragmented map. The landmarks were growing more difficult to identify as the terrain became stranger—rock formations twisted into impossible shapes, vegetation that seemed to shift colors when viewed from different angles.
Lyra moved to stand beside me, her violet eyes scanning the horizon. "I can feel it," she said quietly. "The air itself is different here. Thinner somehow, yet heavier with... something."
