Chapter 7: The Healer

Calista’s vision was blurred by sweat and dust. The sun burned relentlessly overhead, and the slope beneath her seemed endless. Every shallow breath stabbed her bruised ribs, and every tiny shift sent agony through her broken legs. She had begun to lose hope, convinced she would remain trapped.

Then she heard it: the soft, rhythmic beat of hooves striking the rocky slope. Her heart leapt. She squinted toward the distant ridge. Nightwind — moving with purposeful strides, ears forward, mane tossing in the sunlit wind.

Walking beside him, not riding, was a man. Calm, strong, and deliberate. His clothing was simple and worn, but his presence carried authority. Each step he took was measured, careful, like he had crossed this harsh land many times before.