Summoned Demon

Master Karna of the Maharana Clan observed the white slopes of the dead god's arm with a somber expression. The abominable jungle was gone, and the caravan was far above the Sea of Ash now. The crossing to the Collarbone Plain was close, so the most dangerous part of the journey was almost behind them.

Yet still, he felt ill at ease. 

Perhaps it was because of the radiant clouds above, or because of how desolate the landscape was. Perhaps it was for no reason at all, and he was simply tense because of the heavy responsibility of protecting the caravan. 

Although not a grizzled veteran, he was experienced enough to know that the last stretch of a journey was often the most perilous — for no other reason than the fact that people tended to abandon caution once the final destination was already in sight. 

His cousin, Saint Dar, had taught him that.

'We ought to stay alert.'

He turned back to look at the caravan.