Two and a half weeks had pass since Ul’lanna ran off. She had depleted all her rations, and survived off worms and bugs, with a single flask of water left.

The horse had been sent off as a distraction three days ago. Ul’lanna trudged on wearily, the sun beating down on her.

Hope of reaching the Citadel, before dying of exhaustion or hunger, felt impossible. Her stomach clawed at her insides, ravaging her mind with thoughts of devouring anything she found.

Ul’lanna struck herself across the face, letting out a grunt, and continued to march onwards.

“You’re not going to die here. You’ve worked too damn hard, to die in a forest. The Citadel has to be close.” She shouted to herself. Forcing herself to believe her own words.

“It’s about a day’s march from here.” A familiar man’s voice said from the tree line. A cold shiver ran down Ul’lanna’s spine. She quickly drew her weapon, engulfing it in a raging flame, and scanned the area.

Her heart hammered against her chest, each breath felt shor