"I think your map might be off," Arran said, not fully succeeding at keeping the exasperation from his voice.

"But the mountains should be here," Snowcloud replied. She took yet another look at her map, as if to confirm that their eyes weren't lying.

Arran gestured at the vast, flat grasslands that surrounded them. "I think we can agree that wherever the mountains are, it isn't here."

Not so much as an anthill could be seen in the area, much less the mountain range that Snowcloud thought would offer their best chance of finding dragons.

It had been well over a month since they left the city of Uvar behind, and so far, the journey had been smoother than they had any right to expect. Not only had they seen no sign of Shadowflame mages or vengeful priests; they hadn't even encountered any bandits.

Instead, all they found were endless grasslands, speckled with the occasional farm or village.

The region was an unusually calm one, but unlike the ruins of the Eidaran Empire, it wasn't abandoned. Rather, it seemed that the area had somehow avoided the turmoil that had spread through the surrounding lands, remaining quiet and peaceful.

Yet safe and pleasant though their travels were, their goal remained elusive.

Snowcloud had one map that showed the region with some detail, and according to that, they should be standing right in the middle of a vast mountain range. But instead of mountains, all they could see where endless grasslands, so flat it seemed as if the earth itself was mocking Snowcloud's map.

The locals weren't much help, either. Among the ones they'd spoken to, few had ever ventured more than a day's travel from their own village, and none had gone beyond the next village. Perhaps that was why the region was so calm, Arran thought — its inhabitants had all the curiosity and ambition of rocks.

Then again, perhaps theirs was the better way of life. Unlike Arran, at least they wouldn't be facing dragons in the foreseeable future.

For several days, Arran and Snowcloud continued northward, following small dirt roads through the seemingly unending meadows. But no matter how many miles of grassland they crossed, there was no sign of any mountains on the horizon, and despite the peaceful surroundings, with every day that passed, they found themselves more frustrated.

On yet another bright, sunny morning, they passed yet another small farm — one of many they'd already encountered.

"Let's try asking for directions," Snowcloud said.

"Again?" Arran asked. By now, they'd already tried asking dozens of farmers and villagers, but every time, the only responses they got were questioning looks and blank stares.

"I have a good feeling about this one," Snowcloud replied simply.

Arran shrugged. "I suppose we can try."

To his eyes, the farm looked no different from the dozens they had already encountered, but it wouldn't hurt to try again. Still, he didn't have much hope for success. As far as he could tell, their best hope was finding a town or encountering a traveling merchant — someone who hadn't spent a lifetime without venturing more than a dozen miles from his home.

They crossed the short path that led from the road to the farm, then knocked on the thick wooden door. For several moments, no answer came, but then the door slowly opened, revealing an old man with a grizzled face.

The farmer gave them an appraising look. "You travelers?"

Snowcloud smiled at the man. "We are," she said. "We were hoping you could give us some directions."

"Don't see many travelers 'round here," the farmer replied, casting a wary look at the swords Arran and Snowcloud carried at their sides. "Where you headin'?"

"We're looking for the Redpeak Mountains," Snowcloud said.

"You don't wanna go there," the man said, shaking his head. "Them's dragonlands. Nothing good to be found there."

At once, a beaming smile appeared on Snowcloud's face, and she shot Arran a quick triumphant look before turning back to the farmer. "Still, we would be grateful if you could tell us where to go."

The man sighed, disapproval in his eyes. "There's a town at the foot of the mountains, Relgard. You'll find it a week or two to the northeast. Go any farther than that, and you'll be risking your lives."

"Thank you," Snowcloud said, reaching out to give the man a few gold coins.

The farmer went wide-eyed when he saw the gold, and he barely managed to stammer a few shocked words of thanks.

When they were on their way again — in a different direction, this time — Arran gave Snowcloud a look. "That's probably the first time he's seen gold in his life," he said.

"He deserved it," Snowcloud replied. She sighed, then added, "Without him, we could've spent months traveling in the wrong direction."

"You might not have done him a favor," Arran said. "That kind of wealth, in a place like this… it's a fortune that could easily turn into a curse."

While a few gold coins were a pittance to a mage, to a farmer it was a fortune beyond compare. Enough to buy several herds of cows, another farm — even a small village. Enough to cause jealousy in the hearts of many.

Snowcloud cast a worried look back in the direction of the farm. "I could—"

"It's too late for that now," Arran said. "Let's just hope he knows how to keep a secret."

Now that they knew where to go, they finally made good distance, and after a good two weeks of travel, they reached the foothills before the Redpeak Mountains. A few days after that, they found the town called Relgard.

It was the only settlement in the region to be called a town, and somewhat to Arran's surprise, it actually looked the part. With thick stone walls and what seemed like several thousands of houses, it could almost be considered a small city.

Even so, travelers were uncommon enough that Arran and Snowcloud drew quite a few stares and glances as they passed, and the town counted only two inns. They chose one of these at random, shelling out some silver for the two largest rooms. The innkeeper looked at them suspiciously, but seeing that they carried plenty of coin, he gave them a polite if somewhat reluctant welcome.

"So what do we do next?" Arran asked once they were settled in.

"It's probably best if I prepare the poison now," Snowcloud said. "It will take me a week or two, and after that, we can head into the mountains and find a dragon."

Arran gave it a moment's thought, then shook his head. Although he wouldn't mind having a few weeks to work on unsealing his Destruction Realm, he suspected that actually finding dragons might take quite a while. And the longer they spent here, the longer it would be before they could return to the Sixth Valley.

"It's better if I scout ahead while you make the poison," he said. "That will save us time, and the sooner all of this is done, the better."

"All right," Snowcloud replied, though she didn't seem thrilled with the idea. "Just be careful. If you find a dragon, stay far away from it."

Arran headed back to the common room, ignoring the other guests' curious looks as he approached the innkeeper.

"I'm looking to explore the mountains," he said. "Do you know of any good guides who are familiar with the area?"

"The mountains?" The innkeeper made an ugly face. "You don't want to go there. There's dragons there."

"I know," Arran replied. "But I would like to find a guide all the same."

"Only a madman would guide you into the mountains." The innkeeper glanced at the silver coin Arran had just slipped him, then shrugged, apparently deciding that the stranger's safety wasn't his concern. "I suppose you'll want old Crassus then. You can find him at the tavern down the street."