Arcon cut through the skies of the Cloud Empire like a black arrow.
The enormous wings beat rhythmically as the winged horse glided above the sea of clouds that covered the entire territory of the empire. Far below, mountains, rivers, and forests passed slowly like distant shadows.
Kyrian remained seated in silence on the saddle.
One of his hands lightly held the reins while the other remained open before his eyes.
The mark in his palm was still there. Faint. But pulsing.
It was like a small flame burning slowly beneath his skin, guiding him.
He had felt that before. Whenever a natural formation appeared, his mark reacted.
And this time… the reaction had been strong enough to catch his attention before departing for the Court.
For three entire days, Kyrian traveled without stopping. During the day, Arcon flew high among the clouds.
During the night, they descended onto some isolated mountain where the horse could rest for a few hours before continuing the journey.
