The Last Two Members of the Delegation

The first moment Brando set foot on the Gray Mountain Family's land, he felt something deep in his heart—wionmervaslit. The mountains were fangs thrusting straight into the sky. That was how the mountain people described the northern ranges in their own language, and it was undoubtedly the most exquisite metaphor for those steep, razor-sharp peaks with their gray limestone cliffs. The twisting, undulating ridges made the distant horizon just as crooked. Above them stretched a pale-gray sky, while beneath their feet lay vast, endless ravines. Sunlight poured over the cliffs on the opposite side of the valley, carving the shadows of the peaks where they stood. Somewhere in the mountain streams, an unknown raptor wheeled in the distance, its sharp cries echoing back and forth through the mountains.

The Little Prince quietly told them that it was a Gray Falcon, a raptor found only in the Gray Mountains. Only then did Brando remember that they were already very close to Haruze's homeland.

If one's gaze could cross the endless mountains, one could almost see the lowlands where the Leiren people had lived for generations, as well as the boundless plains stretching northward. Scattered hills and Black Pine Forests dotted the plains, and a huge royal capital sat there as well. He asked the Little Prince whether he had taken this road when he first fled. The Little Prince said he had, but back then they had left by carriage under cover of night. They had entered the Gray Mountains in complete darkness, their hearts filled with unease. The mountains, where they could not see their own hands, had seemed like a sleeping giant and left a deep impression on him. Now that he was with his teacher, there was naturally no need to be frightened anymore.

The Little Prince's words