Leonard carefully lifted Dydra and placed her gently onto the horse before mounting behind her. He guided her arms around his torso, securing her in place. In her fragile state, she offered no resistance—her mind still lost in the echoes of screams and fire.
With a swift pull of the reins, the horse surged forward, its hooves pounding against the earth as it carried them away from Peakfall.
Oryen stood frozen, watching them disappear into the distance.
Her lips trembled—not from fear, but from anger.
Her fingers twitched at her sides, the familiar pull of magic rising within her, urging her to act—to cast, to strike, to stop him.
But she didn't.
Something about Leonard unsettled her.
It wasn't just his presence—it was what lay beneath it. Something ancient. Something dangerous.
And for the first time in a long while… Oryen hesitated.
The magic in her veins stilled.
All she could do was stand there, helpless, and watch as they vanished from sight.
