Chapter 44 The First Clash

• The morning light bled across the horizon, casting molten gold over the fields as Mikko and Espen rode hard toward the border village. The trees thinned the farther north they went, giving way to windswept plains and jagged cliffs. Their dragons soared overhead, shadows that circled with growing tension.
• By midday, the air had changed. Not just in temperature, but in something unseen. The hum of magic twisted through the wind like a warning.
• "We're close," Mikko muttered, his hand resting near the hilt of his blade. "Feel that?"