She rides on horseback, brushing back her flowing hair as she canters up the mountain track towards the distant towering walls.
The way is narrow and treacherous. She holds her breath as she catches a glimpse of the chasm beneath her. Climbing, climbing, climbing. Steadying her horse, she grabs the reins with tense hands screaming in fear.
Hooves slip on jagged stones, green with shadow algae. A shudder. A futile grasp. No more! The valley below is calling, calling, calling.
But now is not the time. A stumbling leap and the horse and his lady return to the path. Her way is clear again.
There her guardian stands, on the battlements of the citadel, speaking out her name on the wind. She hears it and smiles. For now I know I am coming, she whispers.