The town of Delgren was small, but shone brilliantly - even from the considerable distance where Adelynn stood atop a hill, looking down at the city.
Night had come, cool and kind, a few hours ago. Now, in the dark, she saw the bright lights of the town that was nestled in the protective embrace of the Gren Valley.
She stood there, looking down across the miles they still needed to travel, waiting for Ryl to catch up. He had opened the book of Firewalker history an hour ago and had been moving at a sluggish pace that pained Adelynn.
“Hurry up,” she called to him, seeing him just now reach the top of the hill. It was the eighth time she had said it, and the most weary version of the phrase. She knew that her frustration made no difference to him.
He continued walk...
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