"Okay, okay, that's enough glaring for today," Daniel interrupted, stepping between the simmering tensions. "Since everyone is here, let's depart. We're burning daylight."
No one argued. The heavy gates of the capital creaked open, and the expedition force rode out.
Unknowingly—or perhaps inevitably—the group naturally divided into three distinct clusters as they traveled down the Road.
At the front rode the Hero group, flanked by the elite Royal Guards. They rode with their chins high, capes fluttering, looking every bit the saviors of humanity.
In the middle was the support train—the mages, the supplies, and the bulk of the knights.
And at the very rear, maintaining a deliberate distance, was the oddest trio.
Oliver rode a sturdy black horse, his posture relaxed. Isolde rode beside him, radiating an aura that kept even the knights' horses from getting too close. And sticking to Oliver's other side like glue was Amy.
