Now that Asha was getting better Margaret’s work load only got easier. Although Asha’s fever hadn’t completely subsided, not having to constantly carry her on their journey hastened their progress. As soon as Asha was able to walk without stumbling, she immediately got to work helping her mother gather supplies on their journey. Despite her mother’s insistence on letting her rest.

There were still questions lingering on Margaret’s mind that she wanted to ask her daughter. An aching feeling deep inside her gut that somehow made her sure that Asha would know some of the answers.

What eight-year-old would act like this is all normal?

Instead, she seemed ever curious and often in deep contemplation. Closing her eyes as if she were meditating and taking in her surroundings with a sense of calmness and ease.

In a sense she seemed eerily familiar with it.

She would stand outside during gentle snowfall and hold out her hand to catch a snowflake in silence. In that moment the look on her daughter’s face wasn’t at all like the childlike wonder she’d have expected.

The glint in her eyes made her seem so much older than she was.

It scared her. More than it should.

Ever since that day, when she saw that man, she’d wondered….

What sort of connect was there between him and her daughter? And what it would mean for the both of them. The figure in the temple probably had the answers but Margaret surmised that if it even cared about them, it would have just told them outright for the beginning.

Whatever reasons it had, there was no reason for it to subject them to something like that. She didn’t regret leaving when she did despite it’s warning’s. This was better than being locked up for who knows how long and at the mercy of….. She didn’t want to call this destiny.

This was something else. Maybe this was just a bumpy start to their new life?

Yes. That sounded right to her.

As long as they were healthy and had each other things would be fine. They’ve weathered through so many storms, what was a few more?

It was hope that sustained them and it is what will give them the strength to continue. She just had to keep believing. In herself and in her daughter.

No matter how deep the secrets Asha kept from her grew.

Speaking of secrets, she almost forgot that the trinket was still in her pocket. It was no longer beating or glowing like it did before. And Asha seemed to have left any sort of urgency for it behind when they left the temple. No longer looking for it as a source of comfort. Not even asking her mother where the necklace was.

When Margaret brought it up Asha acted with disinterest and told her she could keep it if she wanted. “I mean, it’s kind of heavy mama. Oh! You can have it! Maybe when we get the gem out we can make you something nice to wear.”

“Aha ha… are you sure about it sweetie? Wasn’t this important to you?”

Asha stood in silence, contemplating her answer before her vision started to get blurry and she had to sit down as her fever retuned at just the most convenient moment. She let Asha rest while her suspicions started to grow.

Clenching the trinket in her hand, Margaret felt a surge of frustration mingled with curiosity. She had hoped that the trinket might offer some clue or insight into their strange predicament, but so far, it had only served to deepen the mystery.

As she turned the small object over in her palm, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something significant about it, something she was missing. The way it had reacted in the temple, pulsing with light and warmth, had been undeniable. Yet now, it lay dormant and inert, as if mocking her with its silence.

"Why won't you give me answers?" Margaret muttered under her breath, her voice tinged with frustration. She had spent countless hours pondering the trinket's significance, but no matter how hard she tried it told her nothing.

With a sigh, she slipped the trinket back into her pocket, feeling its weight pressing against her thigh like a constant reminder of her unanswered questions. She couldn't bring herself to discard it, not when it seemed to hold the key to unlocking the mysteries of their journey.

As they packed their belongings and prepared to venture out from the safety of the cave, Margaret's mind buzzed with unspoken questions, each one pressing against her consciousness like a persistent itch. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their situation than meets the eye, and she needed answers.

Finally, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Margaret turned to her daughter. The soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the cave's entrance bathed them in a warm embrace as she spoke.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you, Asha," Margaret said, her voice laced with curiosity. "Do you ever feel like you know where we are, even though we've never been here before?"

Asha paused, her gaze drifting over the rocky landscape surrounding them. For a moment, she seemed lost in thought before meeting Margaret's eyes with a knowing look.

Asha never once questioned their circumstances. And the one time she did, the way she phrased the question made Margaret suspicious. “Where do you think we are mama?”

“Somewhere in the mountains, sweetie?” Margaret offered, being patient despite her burning questions.

Asha nodded; her expression serene yet inscrutable as she gazed far off into the distance. “I guess so," she murmured, her gaze drifting towards the horizon as if searching for something unseen.

Margaret grimaced and took a deep breath.

"I sometimes feel like I know where we are, Mama," Asha finally replied, her voice soft yet certain. "But I don't know how or why. It's like... like a memory I can't quite reach, but I know it's there, waiting."

Margaret's breath caught in her throat, a surge of emotions rising within her. She reached out to grasp Asha's hand, seeking comfort and reassurance in the midst of uncertainty. But even as she held her daughter's gaze, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she was missing, something just beyond her grasp.

Torn between her frustration and love for her daughter, Margaret once again prioritized more important things. When they’d get to a town or a village of sorts that’s when she could finally start sorting things out. If she kept thinking about all the questions swirling around her mind instead of pushing them aside, they wouldn’t get anywhere.

Margaret prayed that nothing else would happen during their trip to make her regret her decision.

“Come on sweetie, let’s get going.” Margaret heaved her rucksack full of her supplies and took her daughter’s hand in her own. Squeezing it tightly as they big farewell to the cave that had sheltered them.

The days that followed saw Margaret and Asha steadily make their way deeper into the heart of the mountain range, Margaret guiding their path as best she could with her new found ability.

Margaret's Survivalist skill came into play with an almost instinctive precision as they traversed the rugged landscape of the mountain range. With each step, she felt a heightened awareness of her surroundings, a keen perception that transcended mere sight.

As they ventured deeper into the heart of the mountains, Margaret found herself attuned to the subtle nuances of the terrain, her senses honed to a razor-sharp edge. The contours of the land seemed to etch themselves into her mind with vivid clarity, each rise and fall, every twist and turn, mapped out with an almost uncanny accuracy.

Her newfound skill allowed her to anticipate potential obstacles and hazards before they even came into view, guiding their path with a confidence born of experience. She navigated rocky outcrops and treacherous slopes with ease, her steps sure and steady as she led them ever onward.

However, Margaret's newfound skill came with its limitations aside from its one-day use.

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While her ability granted her a heightened sense of the terrain and its features, the scope of her perception was limited to only her immediate surroundings. It only extended to as far as her line of sight and the range of her senses. It waned the longer she used it, gradually disappearing and with it, her energy. Then moment she tried to extend its use even for a minute she had a mind splitting headache that took hours to get rid of.

This constraint forced her to choose when she could have the liberty to use it for navigation with the necessity of conserving for when they might face greater challenges. Thankfully, they hadn’t encountered anything dangerous yet except for the occasional frozen river or lake. They did well by steering clear of an area when they heard the cries of wolves from the distance or saw bloodly trails from a recent hunt by a larger animal.

Despite these limitations, Margaret embraced her newfound skill with determination and resolve. With each landmark she noted, with each route plotted, she felt like she was regaining a sense of control over their journey. It was a small victory, but one that bolstered her spirits as they pressed onward into the unknown.

And finally, for once Margaret was able to make a map she was sure could be consistent and fairly accurate. She’d almost grown averse to the very idea thanks to what the temple had put her through. But this time with each landmark she noted, with each route plotted, Margaret felt like she was regaining a sense of control over their journey.

They made camp at night in forest clearings where surrounded by dense trees that offered some protection from snow fall and traveled in the morning. Never staying in an area too long and gathering what they could to survive. Though the terrain was more often treacherous, the scenery they encountered seemed torn from the pages of a storybook.

She could still remember the way the sun rose in the winter mornings, painting the sky with hues of pink, orange, and gold. As dawn approached, a faint glow would appear on the horizon, signaling the imminent arrival of the sun. The first rays would peek through the gaps between the snow-laden branches, casting long shadows across the forest floor.

Margaret would stand in awe, her breath forming wisps of vapor in the cold air, as the sun gradually ascended, bathing the landscape in a warm, golden light. The snow-covered trees would glisten as if adorned with diamonds, and the frozen streams would begin to thaw, their icy surfaces reflecting the vibrant colors of the sunrise.

Beside her, Asha would watch with wide eyes, her face lighting up with wonder and delight. She would reach out to catch the first rays of sunlight, giggling as they danced across her outstretched fingers.

Unlike the confines of the temple, where tall stone walls blocked out the outside world, here in the mountainous forest, they were surrounded by all its beuty. Towering mountain peaks kissed the sky, their rugged slopes cloaked in blankets of snow. The air was crisp and pure, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth.

The towering pine trees with their boughs heavy with pristine white powder, created a fairy tale woodland through which they trekked. The hush of freshly fallen snow muffled their footsteps, lending an almost reverential silence to the landscape. In clearings, shimmering icicles dangled from skeletal tree limbs like crystalline wind chimes tinkling in the crisp alpine breeze.

Margaret couldn't deny the sheer breathtaking beauty of their surroundings, so alien and elemental compared to her modern lifestlye in the world she lived in before. Yet that essential grandeur was tempered by an underlying wrongness she sensed.

The more they traversed the mountains the more treacherous it became. The beautiful scenery started to turn into a creeping nightmare as they came upon great cracks that marred and upturned the earth. There were so many dead trees, broken, torn and charred black. Thin layers of frost that covered its surface did so little to hide behind what could have happened.

Inside this part of the mountain there were no birds to be heard. Only the somber atmosphere and the ominous silence of the desolate landscape. Deeper into the heart of the mountain, the air grew heavy with the weight of unseen sorrows, and the once majestic forest gave way to a grim devastation.

The ground beneath their feet became uneven, littered with debris and remnants of a bygone conflict. Jagged rocks jutted out from the earth like the broken teeth of a wounded beast, and the soil itself seemed tainted by the echoes of violence. Here and there, they spotted the twisted remains of ancient weaponry, half-buried in the frozen ground, rusted and forgotten.

But it was the scars etched into the mountainside that truly spoke of the horrors that had unfolded here. Great gouges marred the landscape, evidence of powerful magic unleashed with reckless abandon. The very earth seemed to weep.

As they pressed on, the air grew colder, and a sense of foreboding settled over them like a shroud. Asha clutched Margaret's hand tightly, her gaze darting nervously from shadow to shadow. Even she could sense the palpable aura of sorrow that hung heavy in the air.

And then, all the darkness and carnage gave way to an old village over a hill. As Margaret and Asha approached, their hearts quickened with anticipation, hopeful to find signs of life amidst the desolation.

The village appeared straight out of a medieval painting, with quaint stone cottages lining narrow cobblestone streets. Smoke lazily curled from chimneys, and the sound of a distant bell echoed through the frosty air.

For a moment, Margaret allowed herself to believe that they had stumbled upon a sanctuary, a refuge from the horrors of the mountainside. She imagined the warmth of a roaring fire, the comfort of a hearty meal, and the company of kind people.

But as they drew closer, their hopes were dashed like waves against the rocky shore. The village lay silent and still, its streets deserted and its buildings in various states of disrepair. Some were merely dilapidated, their timbers rotting and their roofs sagging under the weight of years of neglect. Others had fared far worse, reduced to little more than crumbling ruins, their once sturdy walls now little more than rubble.

Margaret's heart sank as she realized the truth: this village had been abandoned long ago, its inhabitants driven away by forces unknown. The air grew heavy with sorrow as she and Asha wandered through the silent streets, their footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

Asha's hand tightened in Margaret's grasp, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Where did everyone go, Mama?" she whispered, her voice barely audible above the mournful wail of the wind.

Margaret shook her head, her own heart heavy with sorrow. "I don't know, sweetie," she replied, her voice choked with emotion.

“Maybe we can… look for supplies while we’re here… Come on sweetie.”

The architecture hinted at a diverse population, with buildings of various sizes and styles scattered throughout the village. Brick roads, now cracked and overgrown with weeds, wound their way between the crumbling structures, leading Margaret and Asha deeper into the heart of the abandoned settlement.

They passed by what must have been a marketplace, its stalls now nothing more than rotting timber and splintered wood. A dilapidated tavern stood nearby, its sign swinging mournfully in the breeze, while further down the street, a row of modest cottages hinted at the lives of the villagers who had once called this place home.

As they ventured deeper into the ruins, Margaret and Asha began to notice signs of struggle and strife. Scorch marks marred the walls of some buildings, while others bore the unmistakable signs of battle, with arrowheads embedded in their timbers and deep gouges in their stonework.

Margaret's keen eyes scanned their surroundings, searching for anything of value that could aid in their survival. Despite the grimness of their situation, she couldn't help but see an opportunity amidst the devastation.

She spotted a partially collapsed building that seemed to have once been a general store. With Asha by her side, she carefully picked her way through the rubble, her heart pounding with anticipation. The shelves were bare, stripped clean by looters long gone, but Margaret knew that sometimes, treasures could be found hidden away in the most unexpected places.

After rummaging through the debris for what felt like hours, Margaret's efforts were rewarded. Tucked away in a corner, she found a crate containing a few tattered blankets, a handful of dried herbs, and a small pouch of coins—meager offerings, perhaps, but valuable nonetheless in their current circumstances.

With a sense of triumph, Margaret gathered up their newfound supplies, her mind already racing with plans for how they could be put to use. She knew that every scrap of food, every bit of warmth, was a precious commodity in the unforgiving wilderness of the mountains.

As they continued their exploration of the ruins, Margaret kept her eyes peeled for any other signs of salvageable goods. She knew that they couldn't afford to be picky—anything that could help them survive was worth its weight in gold.

And so they pressed on, their footsteps echoing through the silent streets as they scoured the ruins for whatever scraps of sustenance they could find. In a world where survival was uncertain and danger lurked around every corner, Margaret knew that they had to seize every opportunity that came their way, no matter how small.

But their exploration was soon interrupted by a grim discovery. Nestled amongst the ruins of what appeared to be a once-grand mansion, Margaret and Asha stumbled upon their first remains—a skeleton lying amidst the rubble, its bones picked clean by the passage of time.

Asha gasped in horror, her hand flying to her mouth as she recoiled from the sight. Margaret felt a pang of sorrow and sympathy as she gazed upon the bones, imagining the life that had once inhabited this now lifeless form

As Margaret and Asha cautiously approached the fallen skeleton, their eyes wide with trepidation, they soon realized that it was not alone. Scattered throughout the rubble were more skeletal remains, some partially buried beneath collapsed beams and others strewn haphazardly across the ground.

The gravity of their discovery sank in as they realized the scale of the tragedy that had befallen this place. What they had initially hoped was an isolated incident now revealed itself to be something far more sinister—a mass grave, hidden amidst the ruins of the once-thriving settlement.

Margaret felt a chill run down her spine as she surveyed the scene before them. The skeletons lay in twisted poses, frozen forever in the throes of their final moments. Some still clutched at remnants of clothing or jewelry, a poignant reminder of the lives they had once led.

Most unsettling were that some of the remains that didn't quite look...human. Elongated skulls, grotesque appendages - Margaret did her best to give such nightmarish relics no heed. She wanted to move on from this graveyard as soon as possible. Nothing good could possibly be waiting for them here.

She went to grab her daughter’s hand only to be pulled back by Asha’s strong grip, her small hand shaking and tightening. A mixture of sadness, recognition and something darker that Margaret couldn't quite place. It was clear Asha's soul perceived things her young mind couldn't begin to grasp.

“Asha, what are you-“

Then they heard a howling in the distance.

Heavy footsteps and the sound of metal started to approach them. Instinctively, Margaret rushed to hide, hugging Asha close while she peaked from the corner. A large figure covered head to toe in armor and blue cloth with a sword strapped to his side. Beside him, the large white wolf prowled with silent menace, its eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intelligence. Its gaze seemed to pierce through the darkness, locking onto Margaret with an intensity that made her blood run cold.