Hundreds of kilometers to the northeast, far from the fires still consuming Highgarden, the Eastmarch grasslands stretched beneath a starlit night sky.
The expanse spread boundlessly under a deep celestial dome. Free from the glare of city lights or the haze of factory smoke, the stars spilled across the darkness like diamond dust on a black canvas. A low night wind blew, carrying the scent of dry earth mingled with the faint fragrance of wildflowers blooming in the shadows.
On the bank of a small stream where clear water gurgled against the rocks, two simple tents had been pitched. A campfire blazed in the center, its tongues of flame dancing wildly in the wind, casting long, swaying shadows against the tent fabric. Snap... crackle... The occasional pop of burning wood broke the silence. Six horses were tied to tree trunks nearby, occasionally neighing softly while stomping their hooves against the ground.
