Hero's Journey

The wind clawed at Gareth's cloak, threatening to rip him from the precipice. Below, the valley unfolded like a tapestry woven from emerald and gold, the dying sun painting the distant peaks with streaks of fire. He tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth – a souvenir from the skirmish – and the sharper, cleaner scent of pine carried on the wind. He hadn't wanted it to end like this, with the land on the brink of ruin and him staring into the abyss. A dry chuckle echoed behind him. "Admiring your kingdom, Gareth? Soon, it will all be mine." Gareth didn't turn. He knew the voice, the cold, mocking timbre that had haunted his nightmares for months. "There's still time to stop this, Kael." "Time?" Kael's footsteps crunched on the loose scree as he approached. "Time is a luxury we can no longer afford."