Myn, her motions labored and sluggish, was landing. It was impossible to know how much time had passed. The depths of her concentration made the journey seem like an eternity, and yet she was not cognizant of the passage of time. It was at once an odyssey and an instant. There was no doubt she’d reached the north, however. Traveling by air was a brisk, chilling endeavor, but the air of the Northern Alliance had a painful bite that reminded Myranda just how quickly she’d become accustomed to the warmth of the south. Worse, in her haste to leave, she’d not taken the time to don the layers of warm clothing that would keep the frigid air at bay. It was thus a task for her ailing mind to ward off the bulk of the iciness. “Myn…” she slurred, blinking away the tears in her eyes and gazing down at the slush and snow coating the fields below. “Are you well? Do you need to rest?” The dragon’s pace suddenly quickened, as though she were a student caught dozing off during a lesson.
