The morning's mist still clung to the rugged highlands as the caravan set forth from the border of the Blackened Moor. In the wake of the spectral warning and the heavy tidings of old curses stirring anew, Liam and his companions pressed forward with hearts both burdened and emboldened by the promises of unity. The delicate balance between hope and despair now rested on every step they took into the unknown.
Liam rode at the forefront, the Emberheart's glow a steady beacon amid swirling uncertainties. His thoughts, as resolute as the mountain paths beneath his steed's hooves, turned often to the words of Seraphine and the hesitant hope that had sparked in her eyes. In every exchange, in every alliance forged or wavering, he saw a mirror of the struggles within himself—the eternal fight to protect a fragile dream of renewal.