The next few days were much the same, and every hill they climbed, and gully they passed through looked like the last. The worst was the persistent cold wind, biting and stinging Seth’s skin and causing his lips to become dry and cracked. The only sign that they were making any real progress was the enormous mountains to their right that gradually crept closer. Seth had lost sight of any trace of Brack and his men, but Tugul seemed unwavering in their direction and pushed on, always heading south.
Seth stood on the shoulder of a hill, just below its top, with the cold nipping at his skin as he gazed at the bright sun rising above the mountains far to the east. Just below the mountains and stretching away to the south, was a wide body of water, shimmering like a silver plain.