THE OUTLANDERS

The carriages stood ready outside, gleaming under the midday sun. Thesra and Moheazttha shared one, while Joz and Leomere were in another. Each group had their own—the mages, the maidens, the guards, and the warriors, all filed into separate carriages, the organization precise and royal.

As Moheazttha helped Thesra settle her gown inside, the heavy fabric draping across the seats, she leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, her lips curling into a mischievous grin.

"I'm so glad we don't have to share a carriage with that witch, Gwen," Moheazttha said, struggling to suppress her laughter.

Thesra shook her head, trying to hold back her own chuckles. "Oh, don't say that, Mohi!"

As the carriage began to move, Thesra glanced out the window, the weight of what lay ahead finally catching up with her. She turned toward her companion, her voice softer, a hint of fear creeping in.