"I can't believe I ever considered myself one of those terrible creatures," Ivan said with a dramatic shudder, adjusting his collar as though the very memory offended his newly refined existence.
"You've been an elf for thirty minutes, Ivan," Beric replied dryly from beside him. "Calm yourself."
"It has actually been two hours and thirty minutes," Ivan corrected, pulling a small mirror from his satchel and inspecting his reflection for what had to be the hundredth time. "Transformation requires appreciation."
Beric exhaled slowly, already exhausted.
The group had been riding southeast for nearly three hours now, the rhythm of hooves against the earth steady and unrelenting. The familiar roads of the outer shires had long since dissolved into narrow, winding trails. Tall grasses brushed against their legs, and scattered trees thickened gradually into something denser.
The world itself seemed to be changing the deeper they went. Behind them, was humanity, and of them, was myth.
