The night had fallen. The moon floated in the sky, and its pale light barely pierced through the thick layers of fog. The faint sound of wind brushing against the rocks echoed like the whispers of the dead, and from time to time, a subtle tremor rose from deep within the earth.
The air had become freezing cold, colder even than when they were inside the mountain range. One glance at their skin, which looked almost frozen, was enough to tell how unbearably cold it was.
Slowly, they even began to doubt whether the farther they went, the colder it would become.
Daniel's cold gaze was fixed on the Canyon ahead. The shadows of the rocks stretched across the ground, making everything look even darker. Even the air carried the faint smell of decay.
"This place feels strange…" Drael muttered, looking around. His breath vanished into the mist.
