Beyond the halo of light cast upon the ground by the small campfire, the night was dark and cold. Shadows danced on the ground as Ash and the students of the Military Academy sat around the dancing flames.
They had just now finished their meal, a simple stew they put together in a few minutes, and were now heading to sleep. They laid down around the campfire, making sure to remain within its light and used their cloaks to cover themselves.
With the mountain range towering before them, it was difficult to sleep. The dark silhouette of the mountains looked like the jaws of a dragon. As time passed agonisingly slowly, one by one they drifted into an uneasy, shallow sleep.
The guards woke them up before the Spire of Kindling even lit up. They finished a simple, yet nourishing breakfast soon after, and were ready to set off at first light.
“Listen to me carefully if you value your life and sanity.” The older mage spoke as the students stood in a line before him. “Keep up with our pace, do not get left behind. Do not step outside the stone path, no matter what. Do not take anything you find on the ground – no matter how valuable it seems. You will hear voices – don’t listen to them. Even if it’s your own mother’s cry for help, don’t listen, don’t even look that way.” His stern voice carried a weight with it. “Do not speak loudly, don’t even whisper unless you need to.” He furrowed his brows. “And no matter what, do not use your mana. Even if you see an arrow aiming at your heart, don’t use it.”
“Why?” Someone piped up.
“Because it will wake up the slumbering spirits.” The mage raised his chin. “No one will think less of you if you stay behind. The Valley is a dangerous place, dozens of convoys, and even more travellers are lost here every year. It’s not for the faint of heart, so if you have any doubts about your ability to follow these rules, stay here.” His gaze lingered on each of them for several breaths.
The Spire of Kindling lit up. It was a candlelight at first, barely visible even to Ash. Then it grew brighter, its life-giving light bathed the world in nourishing mana, revealing the Howling Valley in front.
It was a straight path leading through the mountain range, with a shallow, yet wide river flowing peacefully from the north. The valley itself looked like someone had struck the mountains with a knife – shaped perfectly like a V. Looking through it, the lands beyond the mountains were clearly visible, as well as the Spire. Shadows danced in the Howling Valley, and the Spire’s bright light seemed to be unable to disperse them fully.
“It looks so ominous…” One of the three girls he walked with the day before muttered.
Ash nodded, unable to take his eyes away from the sights before him. The more he looked at the shadows writhing under the light of the Spire, the more tense his body became. He could feel his chest tighten as the group set off.
Within a couple dozen minutes, they had arrived at the entrance to the Howling Valley. It almost seemed like there was veil separating the Howling Valley from the rest of the world. The air around them immediately grew cold as they stepped into the Valley. The grass that was a bright, lively green outside the valley turned into a dark blue that resembled the dark of the night. White flowers rarely peeked through the blades of grass, though they were farther away from the narrow stone path they walked on.
The further they walked, the more wrong everything seemed. At first Ash couldn’t quite put his finger on what made everything seem so bleak and dark. Only when he lifted his head did he see it – the Spire’s light didn’t shine as brightly as it should at all. It was dim and bleak, weak like a dying campfire, as if he was looking at it from beyond a thick, ominous mist.
His chest tightened. Whatever was in this place was powerful enough to dim the light of the Spire. Without even thinking he hastened his steps, keeping his eyes on the stone path they followed.
“He will be back.”
A girl’s voice sounded. It was but a whisper, filled with solemn faith mixed with sadness. A familiar voice, yet the words were spoken oddly.
“What was that?” Someone’s frightened voice rose. Whispers spread along the students. “Did you hear that?” “I heard someone calling out…” “I know that voice!” The straight line walking with a brisk pace suddenly broke off into several groups all walking at different paces.
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“Silence!” A sharp voice echoed. “Speed up!” It was the younger mage.
Her voice was steady and firm, but when Ash looked at her, he saw fear in her wide open eyes. She was just as uneasy as everyone else. That prompted him to look at the guards’ faces. They were pale, their gazes fixed either on the stone path, or straight ahead on the Spire of Kindling. They refused to look anywhere else yet gripped their weapons firmly.
“He promised to come back, remember?”
Ash flinched. There it was again, that familiar voice belonging to a woman. It was filled with hope, fading hope.
“There it is again!” Someone whispered. “Who is that? I know that voice?”
Ash gritted his teeth and further hastened his steps, catching up with the three girls and the older mage. Only the girl named Theresa shot a glance towards him over her shoulder. Her face was pale as a sheet of paper. A hint of relief appeared in her eyes when she saw Ash, but she then looked ahead again. Her back was stiff with fear.
“Soon, he’ll be back soon. I know he will, he promised. We just have to wait a little longer…”
One of the guards ahead gasped as the voice sounded again. The hopeless voice was more of a cry of sadness. The words were hollow, Ash could feel the sadness they carried. He clenched his fists, fighting against the want to turn his gaze left, where the voice was the loudest. He feared she would be standing there, that’s how real it sounded. It wasn’t just a whisper anymore, after all.
“Stay the course.” The older mage reminded the guards. His voice was low and calm. Not once did he slow his steps or turn to look for the source of these whispers.
“What if they get left behind?” Theresa whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the other students. Some were walking slower, constantly looking around to spot the owner of these whispers. Groups of guards urged them to continue, so they wouldn’t linger for too long and get left behind.
“The guards will keep them on the course. Now hush.” The mage calmly responded without even glancing over his shoulder. His gaze remained fixed on the Spire.
The sound of gently flowing water was all that broke the tense silence as they continued on. At midday, they had barely passed halfway though the Howling Valley. They didn’t pause for lunch, instead they hastened their steps and continued walking to have a chance at reaching the other side of the mountain range before nightfall.
“He promised!” A shout echoed a few hours after midday, startling the group. “He will be back!”
Cold sweat ran down Ash’s back. He fought the urge to turn around and seek the owner of that voice. Just a little more, he told himself as the older mage further hastened their pace. Less than an hour remained before the light of the Spire would die. Looking ahead, it was difficult not to feel despair – the other side still seemed so far away.
The life giving light soon began to dim, and as soon as it did, whispers reached their ears. Unlike the voice they head until now, these were constant, whispering the same phrases over and over again, filling the silence with their unnerving voices.
“I was too late…” woman’s voice whispered. “I couldn’t stop her…” A man’s echoed at the same time. “I shouldn’t have let him go…” lamented the girl’s voice Ash had been hearing since they stepped into the Valley. “They killed him!” Someone cried. “Betrayal…”
His chest tightened, and a lump settled in his throat. The voices were heavy with emotions – grief, sadness, anger, pain… Their laments and cries began to overwhelm him, and he could see he wasn’t the only one. He covered his ears with his hands, but it wasn’t enough to muffle the voices. With hastened steps, he hurried forward – he needed to get out of the Valley, as fast as he could.
Wisps of mist began to appear far away from the stone path they followed, near the rocky mountains the Valley was carved out of. The mist began to roll downhill ever so slowly. With each passing moment, it seemed to cover more of the land, just as the Spire’s light continued to dim further.
“Run, or we’re not going to make it!” One of the guards suddenly shouted. “Hurry to the exit, and stay on the path!” The younger mage’s voice echoed.
The fear gripping his heart turned into terror. He kicked the ground and broke into a run. His gaze leapt between the Spire and the ground. Each heartbeat felt like ages as the whole group started running, their footsteps and heaves being drowned out by the whispers growing increasingly louder.
It was a race against time – against light. With the life-giving light of the spire fading so fast, and the silver mist rolling in from both sides, it was a race for their lives.
“Come back!” The voices shouted. “I don’t want to lose you!” Gasps and frightened screams echoed in the valley. “You can’t trust them!” “We need you!” The familiar words echoed over and over again. As the last glow of the Spire began to vanish.
Their hearts racing, they threw themselves out of the Howling Valley as the spire’s light vanished fully, and darkness covered the world.
Ash lay on the ground like many others, his heart still racing and his breathing shallow and erratic. His face was pale as a sheet of paper as the final scream he heard echoed in his mind.
“DAD!”