The higher they climbed into the mountains, the more treacherous their path became. Narrow ledges gave way to icy passes, and the air grew thin and biting. Aria pushed on, her determination fueled by the promise of allies and the chance to finally turn the tide against the usurper.

Frieda and Damien burst through the underbrush, their faces etched with worry. They skidded to a halt when they saw Petrillo standing alone by the car, his eyes wide with fear and guilt.

Adeline burst into the drawing room, her heart racing with excitement. Lady Grayson looked up from her embroidery, startled by her daughter's sudden entrance.

Petro rode his horse along the muddy road, his eyes scanning the thick forest on either side. The rain had let up, but the air remained heavy with moisture. His armor clinked softly with each step of his mount.

They set off northward, The Raven scouting ahead while Aria and Tug followed. The terrain grew steadily more rugged as they approached the foothills of the northern mountains. Aria's body ached from her wounds and the relentless pace, but she pushed on without complaint.

Emma's heart pounded in her chest as she crept through the underbrush, her eyes fixed on the hulking figure ahead. The woman's muffled cries grew fainter, and Emma knew she had to act fast.

The following day, Adeline found herself once again standing before the weathered door of the Silver Stag Inn. This time, she was alone, having decided against involving Cordelia in her reckless pursuit. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

He spotted something gleaming, half buried under the sand, and knelt down.  Gently, he worked the holy symbol of Annis free.  It was a golden sun and heavy, worth quite a bit.  He slipped it into his pocket and stood.

As the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, Aria found herself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. Relief at their unexpected salvation warred with suspicion and grief for her fallen companions.