The first snow of late autumn was falling softly but mercilessly, and in the dark void of a starless firmament it left traces of its passage only in the dim glimmer of the glowing orb that advanced slowly, preceding Anker's unsteady steps. His boots crushed the thin icy layer with a crackling sound, and in the outline of his footprints remained only a transparent mush that was cyclically swallowed by the night.

Anker snorted because of the fatigue. He kept his mouth open from the breathlessness, and the cold air with each breath seemed to pierce his throat and lungs with tiny needles. The snowflakes, driven by the wind, stuck to his eyebrows and beard, melting into cold and sticky rivulets. The burden he carried on his shoulders, the inanimate body of his companion, was growing cold and stiff. Even Madja’s breath could no longer be felt on his neck, and the doubt whether she was alive or dead was now giving way to a grim certainty.

The scratches on his shoulder and side burned intensely, but Anker tried to ignore them. The interminable, desperate, blind march certainly did not help to distract him. Darkness had fallen an hour ago, snow was inexorably covering the path, and Anker had completely lost his sense of direction. He could only pray that luck would lead him to a shelter where he could wait for the first light of dawn.

With the umpteenth step his left ankle gave way, making him fall on his knee, and then Madja’s weight unbalanced him, making him fall face down on the ground. Anker let go of Madja’s knee for a moment and staggered to his feet, then grabbed her again vigorously to avoid falling again. His face smeared with snow and mud, Anker couldn’t hold back his tears and cried out in despair.

“Damn! May I be damned, may everything be damned!”

Anker felt that he was primarily responsible for the terrible situation they had gotten themselves into, and the guilt was crushing him. There seemed to be no salvation in sight, and even if he did stumble upon it, there was no way out of this mess. Once he returned to civilization, his honor would be forever tarnished.

Anker struggled up yet another slope, and then, unexpectedly, a hundred yards away, he saw a flickering torch.

*****

Seven hours before,

The situation had not seemed good, weather-wise, since the afternoon. The sky was leaden and uniform, and a crisp breeze was lightly shaking the last reddish leaves hanging from the sparse trees on the sides of the path that emerged from the evergreen shrubs. Just beyond the eastern gate of the village of Petratonna, the silhouettes of two knights of the royal order of Ferlonia stood out in their black and purple uniforms.

From behind, facing the looming mountain and the threatening sky, they had an undeniably solemn look. On the other hand, their faces, those of a man and a woman, did not betray any complicity, and the scenes of frugal life that were taking place behind them, among street vendors of fruit and vegetables who shouted offers to the goat herders who were returning with their flocks after having taken them to graze at the river, contributed to a certain surrealism.

“Anker, it's not a good idea to go today. We need to think more carefully about our next move,” the female knight said.

“Why? I thought we had agreed on this.”

“On second thought, I’ve changed my mind. The information we gathered on the field contradicts the information in the Royal Dispatch.”

“The information we gathered on the field, you say. You mean the ravings of that shrew?”

“She wasn’t a shrew.”

“Then what would you call her? The other shepherds in the village no longer venture onto this wild peak, and we’re supposed to trust the insinuations of a demented old woman that no one has confirmed?”

As much as she hated to admit it, Anker had a point. They had searched far and wide for new traces of the man they were hunting, and the only one who had claimed to have seen him recently was an old shepherdess named Emia. The hovel they’d found her in spoke volumes about her sanity. Yet Madja’s instincts told her she had to trust the woman. She was convinced that what she had told them, that the man had moved from the northern to the southern mountain path because of a landslide, was the truth.

Madja hid the fact that it was just a gut feeling and tried to convince him using logic, “Anker, you know the drill. In these remote areas, intelligence has to rely on old reports from drunk scouts and conjectures. The locals always know more than they do.”

“Madja, that woman barely spoke our language.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“It has to do with the fact that the translation of the villager who helped us with the shrew’s dialect seemed rather sketchy to me. Even assuming that he met someone up there, we have no proof that it was really him,” Anker replied, annoyed.

“I’m not saying we should take what she told us at face value, but if we go directly tomorrow we’ll have time to retrace our steps and change route, if that landslide really did happen, without the risk of having to leave things half done. What’s the rush?” Madja asked with affected condescension, as her eyes traversed the path, which at first was gentle and seemed to be becoming increasingly uneven and uphill.

“None, but we still have three or four hours of light. I don’t see why we should waste them. If Viryl is still at the observatory elevator, under the north face, we’ll catch him today, otherwise we’ll come back tomorrow.”

“If we’re careless and let him notice us, we might alert him. He’s not a fool,” Madja countered.

Anker looked at her defiantly and then said, “Well, even if there was a risk, where could he possibly escape from up there? He’s with his back to the wall.”

Madja turned to him and stared at him in silence. There seemed no way to win him over.

“Onnie and I are going. If you don’t want to come, stay here,” Anker proclaimed boldly. Then he took a piece of Fuligine Stone from a breast pocket, held it in his right hand, and raised his arm. Faint vibrations shook the air, and the signal reached the automaton they had left standing, with their bags on its shoulders, in the lobby of the inn. Onyx’s indicator began to glow with their violet light, and the clumsy humanoid automaton covered in terracotta immediately began to run towards its builder with heavy steps. An unusual sight for the backward shepherds of the village.

Only a few minutes passed before Onyx’s mechanical and monotonous voice joined that of the two knights: “Here I am, master, Madja. Is it time to continue our journey?”

“It looks like your master decided so, Onyx,” Madja stated coldly. Whether she liked it or not, she had to play along, and if Anker decided to go, she had to go with him. For both of them, this was their first real unsupervised mission, and the stakes were too high to let Anker get all the credit. She then added resolutely, “There’s no sympathionic coverage where we’re going, the last repeater pillar is downstream from Petratonna. Our speculums won’t be able to connect, so I hope you’ve downloaded the trail map and have enough Fuligine Stones, Anker.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“You’re in good hands with me,” Anker said, waving his Speculum proudly.

*****

The group walked for a good half an hour in complete silence on a nearly flat path. The only sound was the rustling of vegetation, topped by the cawing of jays. Soon the path began to spiral in hairpin bends that rose one above the other separated by steep slopes on which slender beeches clung tenaciously. In the copper-colored foliage, lower and lower, smaller and smaller, Petratonna receded in its picturesque humility, with its low wooden buildings, barns, and the river. It was now necessary to proceed in a single row, and in several places the path had collapsed, reducing to a walkway.

With determination Anker led the group, followed by Madja. Onyx advanced more slowly, but its large terracotta hooves were always placed by its extendable legs at the point that guaranteed the firmest grip, and it did not seem in the least disturbed by the considerable load it was carrying.

After a left turn, the path was cut by a boulder in which a rudimentary staircase had been carved. Madja said: “We should be almost at the fork, right?”

“Yes,” Anker said, glancing at his speculum.

The steps, considerably steep, cut the back of the rock in a counterclockwise direction, and once brought the group to its top, left them in a wide clearing. The path continued, surrounded by patches of yellowish grasses to a crossroads, marked by a mound of white stones. On the latter a crow with intense indigo eyes was perched, which as soon as it noticed the arrival of the party, got scared and flew into the larch forest that engulfed both paths beyond the fork.

“Well, do we go left here?” Anker asked.

“That is correct according to the map you downloaded, master,” Onyx replied.

Madja snorted and stepped forward to stand next to Anker. Then she tilted her head slightly and sighed, “Well, let's see where this road takes us. I hope you're right, Anker.”

The group continued, walking for another hour and a half in the larch forest, until they came across an imposing rock face. The path continued to skirt it on the left, then plunged into a tunnel dug into a rocky ridge protruding from the face of the massif. The tunnel, about fifty yards long, curved to the right and was uphill, its floor uneven and dotted with puddles of clear water. Once out on the other side, Anker's eyes immediately noticed that the light had dimmed slightly: you could still see very well, but the sun had now set below the horizon and catching microscopic details of the environment was beginning to get difficult. The path now clung to the impervious northern slope of the Horn of Morghorou, and on the left side it plunged into a barren ravine.

It did not take long for the group to come across the first obstacle. The path had collapsed for about ten yards, and the only way to proceed seemed to be to jump on a series of five or six wooden poles, which looked decidedly precarious, that had been driven into the side of the mountain. To an inexperienced eye, this might have seemed like a minor detail, and a timid adventurer would have immediately given up, considering the crossing beyond their capabilities. However, the knights of Ferlonia immediately noticed that the poles had been driven bare into the living rock, without the help of a metal guide and without any holes having been drilled beforehand. Furthermore, the wood of the poles had not been weathered at all, so the work must have been done at most a few months ago. Such a result could not have been achieved without hardening and telekinesis spells.

“Madja, I'd say we have a lead!” Anker exclaimed arrogantly. Madja ignored the comment and angrily passed Anker to take a closer look at the chasm.

“Can you imagine, the shepherd knight who starts talking to an illiterate old woman. Someone who studied at the Knightly Academy of the Spheres of Lazul, a knight of the Royal Order of Ferlonia who participated in the third crusade, abdicates for some obscure reason, and that reason was... to go and herd sheep on a mountain forgotten by God!”

While Anker went on his soliloquy, Madja jumped from pole to pole with feline agility, landing crouched at the other end of the path, raising a veil of dust around her. She stood up, dusted off her uniform and turned to her companion, “Do you want to stand there and be an imbecile until nightfall, Anker?”

Anker took out a grappling hook from his belt, little bigger than a nail with a half-inch thick monofilament rope welded to the end, and from his pocket the same Fuligine Stone he had used a few hours earlier to call Onyx. He secured the rope to his left arm, and gripped the Fuligine Stone in his right. The grappling hook shot into the air and with an L-shaped trajectory sank into the side of the mountain, a few yards higher. Anker then shortened the cable further, wrapping it around his left arm, stood sideways to the wall, took a running start and, leaning to the left, began to run up the wall of rock, reaching the other side of the chasm in an instant. Having done so, he sent a pulse to the grappling hook to detach it, gathered up all the rope and put away the tools he had used for the crossing.

Then, with a satisfied face he turned to his automaton and called him, “Come on Onnie, you're the only one left!”

Onyx pulled out its rear thrusters and reached them, gliding down smoothly. Madja, visibly annoyed, watched the whole scene with her arms folded, and then said, “Come on, or we won't be able to get back before dark.”

Anker answered her with great impudence, “Nah, my dear. There’ll be no need to go back. In a few minutes we’ll reach our destination.”

Madja resumed walking, ignoring Anker, who followed her humming merrily.

However, Anker's good mood didn't last more than another half mile. They crossed a stretch of road on which a series of dark caves opened from the side of the mountain. Then the path abruptly ended, swallowed up by a river of stones, gravel and debris that stretched as far as the eye could see. The slope of the pile of stones was not excessive, but it seemed so unstable that putting a foot on it would inevitably cause the landslide to start again.

“What did you just say?” Madja asked acidly.

“We can still reach the lift, if we continue north,” Anker answered resolutely, even though it was clear that the sight had given a vigorous blow to the whole castle in the air that he had built. Madja sighed and invited him to proceed with a theatrical gesture of her hand, “After you.”

“You wait here, Onnie,” Anker said, and cautiously began to cross the river of stones. Madja followed him, showing a much better balance.

Anker and Madja had to walk a relatively short distance on that slippery expanse before they realized they had reached their destination. In fact, curving around the circumference of the semicircle of stones, they soon saw, at the point where the rocky wall started again, the hollow cylinder that acted as a guide for the lift, and almost a mile higher the building where the winch must have been housed. However, what was originally supposed to be the entrance to the lift had been irreparably submerged by the landslide. In that desolate and barren stone pit, with the light getting dimmer by the minute and the first snowflakes fluttering sparsely, a distinct feeling of discomfort and disappointment took hold of the knights of Ferlonia, making them feel for the first time since their meeting, which had now taken place more than a decade earlier, companions at the mercy of the same fate.

“Come on, let's go back down the valley Anker,” Madja whispered with a tenderness unusual for her, “We'll try again tomorrow.”

GLOSSARY:

Fuligine Stone: a schistose rock obtained processing the black blood of the Fekoro. It is rich in sympathions, and can be used to disperse sympathions in the environment.

Repeater pillar: sympathionic device that uses blocks of Fuligine Stone to scatter sympathions over large areas. This allows knights to use magic without having to hold a Fuligine Stone.

“Glowing Orb”: a basic spell, which allows the user to conjure a burning goblet. It is used to cast a faint light in dark areas.