The Demon

They rode hard through the night, their horses' hooves pounding against the dirt road as the capital faded into the distance. The dense forests surrounding the city gave way to open fields, bathed in the pale glow of the moon. The air was crisp and carried the scent of damp earth and wildflowers, a stark contrast to the thick, incense-laden atmosphere of the academy.

They stopped only when necessary—brief moments to rest their mounts, refill their waterskins from clear-running streams, or stretch their legs when the strain of riding for hours grew unbearable. But they never lingered long. 

Riven barely spoke, lost in his own thoughts as they pressed forward. This was the first time in his new life that he had been beyond the controlled walls of nobility or academia. He had memorized maps, read accounts of the land, but nothing compared to seeing it firsthand.