*****

I climb up. Onto the rock. Looking down the mountain side. A world blanketed in pristine white. The towering peaks loom overhead. Jagged edges softened by the thick layer of snow. The human world below shrinks away. Replaced by the solitude and serenity of nature. I inhale. Cold air fills my lungs. I exhale. A soft breath. I can see it so clearly. It feels nice being so high up. I could never have seen something beautiful. If I wasn't banished from the village.

My tail quivers in excitement. I knock my hood off my head. My ears twitch freely. As I listen to the wind. I don't need to hide right now.

I could climb higher on my own. If not for my backpack. The weight of supplies against my shoulders. Scruff says I should have an 'ice pick.' But my knife and claws are enough. I'm not clumsy and big like him.

I look back behind me. They are lagging behind. Scruff is holding most of the supplies and provisions. And Raum is just weak. I told them I would scout ahead. But that was just an excuse to see this view. To forget about the shadow dreams. For just a bit. Scruff says he can't remember his clearly either. Just vague feelings of fear and helplessness. Raums says that shadow people attack us in our dreams. Which sounds true to me. Even though we can't remember. He says our souls remember instead. Maybe just religious nonsense from him.

Damn it. I'm still thinking about it again. Even though I came out here. No matter. They're coming up now.

*****

Anton trudged upwards, his boots sinking into the snow with each step. The straps of his backpack dig into his shoullders, leaving deep impressions against his skin as he presses on, exhaustion etched into every line of his rugged face. He'd made hikes like this across the Bolerian mountains in the past with his old adventuring party. They would always follow him everywhere, no matter what job it was for.

"Fat lot of good that did for them." He muttered to himself, uninterested in the view of the peaks. He looked up from his feet and saw Charlotte waiting for them.

"Mr. Krendal. Hold up!" Raum gasped from behind, struggling to keep up.

"Don't you have a spell to make yourself float or something?" Anton teased, enjoying Raum's suffering.

"Don't be silly Mr. Krendel, floating is shunned by Grogoth. Magic like that is far more of a Cerebelium type thing."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed, those imbeciles always learn to float up, but never down. Such is natural for one stupid enough to worship such a pitiful god. I'm sure you can imagine what happens to them."

Anton only ever hears Raum speak with such vitriol and admonishment when an opposing religion is brought up. It's actually refreshing for him.

"Come on, Charlotte's waiting for us."

"Ah, yes. Charlotte! How is the weather over there?" Raum called out to the distance.

In response, she raised her right hand up above her head and held it there for a few seconds before putting it back down and raising her left hand. She held it up for a few seconds again then put it back down.

"What does that mean?" Anton asked.

"No clue, Mr. Krendal."

"You've travelled with her for months haven't you?"

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Even so, communication between races and different cultures can be difficult."

"She's probably just signalling us to hurry up." Anton surmised. "At least she's doing well with human language. Did you teach her?"

"Only a little with her vocabulary. When I found her she already knew the basics of our language. I believe she was surviving on her own in the outskirts of human towns for many years since she was banished from her village."

"Yeah, she told me about that. I suppose you found her through the same means you found me?" Anton asked accusationally.

"Through Grogoth's gracious guidance, yes!" Raum brightly answered.

"Still sounds shady."

"To the unenlightened, perhaps."

"Did she already know how to fight before you met her too?" Anton referred to when he first met them. Recalling Charlotte's agility and acrobatics she demonstrated when killing the Arlak mercenaries.

"She was already proficient in combat before I met her, yes. I suspect she received training from her tribe. She might have been a Chieftain's daughter, or trained to become a matriarch's guard."

"So she could have been a big deal in her village then. Did her tribe really consider her nightmares so taboo as to banish her?"

"I'm not sure about the entirety of her social background in the Felidaen community, but I do know that their shamans are terribly afraid of strange illnesses derived from curses. So much so that they stripped her of her birth name too, in order to completely cut her off from the tribe."

"Her birth name? How does that work?" Anton was perturbed.

"It's Felidaen culture; their identity and life belong to the village. To be removed is to lose your identity."

"So what's 'Charlotte' then?"

"A name I gave to her. It's cute and fitting, don't you think?"

"Kind of." Anton wondered how Charlotte felt about her name, then he realised: "Wait, did you say our nightmares are curses or something?"

"Ah ah ah." Raum wiggled his finger. "Patience. We're nearly there."

Charlotte, fed up with their pace, pounced down from the higher rocks just above them. "I see cave opening. Over there."

Nestled beneath the towering peaks of the snow-capped Bolerian mountains, there was a giant split in the rugged face of the cliffside, opening into a yawning chasm of jagged rocks. When approached, the sheer scale of the opening becomes apparent, its mouth stretching wide like the jaws of an ancient beast frozen in time. The surfaces are encrusted with slick frost and sharp icicle teeth that glitter in the bright sunlight, and fresh piles of snow spill into the entrance as though it were devouring it. Deeper in, the fresh air of the mountain air gave way to the musty breath of earth and stone inside, thick with an eerie stillness, broken only by the occasional gust of wind that howled through the narrow passageways. Anyone could sense the cave's atmosphere had a foreboding aura that hung heavy in the air; the very mountain itself was warning intruders to stay away.

Anton felt a chill crawl down his spine. It wasn't the cold.

"So this is it? It's unmarked in any of the latest charts."

"It's a secret pathway that none else has found; Grogoth showed me."

"Alright then, I should've known. I guess we forge on in then, but if it gets too narrow deeper in, we pull out. Agreed?"

"Of course Mr. Krendal. You're the natural to take the lead here."

Anton treaded into the opening, making it ten meters until crouching down to take off his backpack.

"Mine is too big and heavy to take in, I'm going to stash it here." He placed it down and opened it, taking out a Wisplight lantern with his left hand. The lantern was cylindrical, with a whistle-like hole at its top, beneath the handle from which Anton held it. Within the lantern's glass frame were a dozen Wisps, low-sentience sprites akin to glowflies. Anton brought his mouth to the hole and blew into it. His breath excited the dormant Wisps, causing them to flicker and emit light. A dim azure hue radiated from the lantern.

"If there's anything else from my bag you want you should take it out now. If you're hungry, just take out a bit of Griffonhare jerky, Charlotte."

Anton looked back behind him. "Charlotte?"

Charlotte was still standing at the cave entrance, frozen in place but trembling in her knees. Even though she wore the same expressionless face she always did, something was different about her posture and body language. She looked more vulnerable now, like an innocent child.

"Are you OK, Charlotte?" Anton called out in concern.

"I'm fine." She replied staunchly, jerking her legs to move forward. "It's nothing. Give me the jerky. Scruff."

The trio ventured deeper into the cave, the natural light fading away behind them. All they have for illumination is Wisplight.