We flew across the meadow and golden fields to the lush green spread on the northern side of Sarteriel, past a canyon and stony mountain where we needed to maneuver carefully because of the wind and the terrain.
That was what Ilya and his griffin, Occia, were here for.
Vrida coated herself in a layer of mana that protected us, her rider, from excessive air pressure and belting wind, following the griffin carefully from behind so we wouldn't get lost between walls of jagged rock. Of course, in the event that we truly got lost, we could just fly higher until we could see the edge of the rainforest that was our destination. But doing so would strain Vrida's magic to protect us and herself because she obviously wasn't an iron bird stuffed with four propeller machines.
