Chapter 73 The Trial Of Bonds

• Dawn rose gray and heavy, the marsh fog lifting only reluctantly as the North broke camp. The air itself felt watchful, every birdcall stilled, every ripple in the swamp water strangely deliberate.
• Kelvin rode at the front, jaw set, the third shard secured in a reinforced case bound to his saddle. Lucia sat upright despite the lingering pallor of exhaustion, refusing to be carried. Her chin lifted each time someone glanced at her, the silent declaration clear—she would not appear broken.
• Mirabelle and Abby followed close, their priestess robes damp from the marsh dew, whispering quiet wards as they went. Ronald and Malcolm flanked the group, their presence steady, eyes never ceasing to sweep the tree line. Varian trailed slightly behind, staff tapping against his stirrup, his gaze distant as though already hearing the whispers of what awaited.