The snow melted over the course of several days, thanks to the clear skies and bright sun. The weather wasn’t nowhere near war. – Ehrir still wore his cloak and coat all the time - but the temperatures rose enough for the group to continue travelling.
The mountain landscape started changing rapidly after the first two days. The forests quietly gave way to steep, lifeless hills. They just piled on top of one another and slowly led to the mountain peaks marking the horizon. The silent behemoths of rock pierced the skies and were covered in snow. There was no way for the group to scale such a monstrosity, or at least Ehrir couldn't imagine one.
Luckily, the group wasn’t planning on going through the mountain’s highest parts to reach the other side. The masters wanted to go straight through a pass laying in lowest point between two particular peaks. The disciples under Sevrian hadn’t ever seen it, but this wasn't the case with Salelia's apprentices.
“It’s… A weird place, to say the least”, mustered Zaster when the Undone One asked him about it. “I don’t want to spoil the damned surprise, so you’ll just have to wait and see it for yourself. Or ask someone else.”
Ehrir didn't ask anyone.
While the aspiring mages and their masters ascended through the mountains, their pace got slower and slower. They spent hours in rerouting and going around different obstacles, and in the rocky environments the horses proved to be inefficient and far from fast. The days turned into a painful and boring crawls through lands covered in grass and hostile looking bushes, with a mountain goat or two showing up occasionally. It stayed cold. The unforgiving winds made everyone in the group wear hoods and scarves, except for Zaster, and prevented Varhel from flying on a regular basis. Nalia still rode on horseback, although she grimly shared that it wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience in the mountainous terrain.
Ehrir often looked at the crystal that he found in the tomb during the days spent travelling. He couldn’t get it to do anything and quickly came to the conclusion that it isn’t magical in any way. The events in the crypt lowered his mood when he thought about them. The piece of mineral just reminded him about the whole ordeal. At one point he just got bored of it and tucked the thing away in his baggage.
The good news were that with the days getting shorter the Undone One had some spare time before going to bed. He used it to read books about magic and to make the control over his soul energy better. The latter could only be done through practice. He spent long hours doing basic exercises in all five disciplines of sorcery, despite his laughable skills in Control and Conquering. Eventually he began advancing in those field too, albeit too slowly and without a plan.
Meanwhile the days flew by and one chilly morning the group reached the place known as the Pass of charred bones.
***
It could be seen from afar – the slope ended as if cut with a knife, and turned into a flat piece of land resting between the peaks. It was impossible to see anything but the rocks marking its beginning from a lower point. But once the group neared the pass… The sight unveiled in all of its macabre glory before Ehrir.
The bones were countless, completely justifying the place’s name. They covered the whole pass from one end to the other and were mostly black, bearing marks caused by intense fire.
“Charred bones, huh…” Nalia almost whispered in a mocking manner “Can’t say that this place doesn’t live up to its name… Right, Ehrir?”
The Undone One could only nod silently.
The Pass felt almost surreal to look at. All the bones laying around seemed human – from the femurs to the shattered ribcages and the fractured skulls. Their numbers were so great that at places they reached above Ehrir's ankles. It wasn’t nice to walk through them.
Yet, within the Undone One grew a strong curiosity and he shortly found himself talking with Sevrian about the Pass.
“Well…” the old man smiled slightly. “It’s an interesting story. The origin of all these bones, I mean. But it’s not a short one, either… Do you want to hear it, youngling?”
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Ehrir nodded without a second thought.
“I don’t really have anything better to do, don’t I?”
“I guess you don’t, young man… I guess you don’t.”
Sevrian stopped for a moment and his brows furrowed. He stayed like that for a moment, collecting his thoughts, and started speaking right after.
“As most bizarre stories in this world, this one began with a sorcerer… And a powerful one at that. In addition to that, he wasn’t human, but a goliath. Put bluntly, that is the oldest and most powerful race of non-humans known in history. They were hailed as gods. You have probably heard or read about them already… His race doesn’t really matter, but I’m trying to emphasize on his strength… And it definitely was monstrous.” The old mage nodded to himself. “See, young man, the goliath was on the run from the ‘hounds’ of a certain man… A man with incredible authority over parts of the Inner Fantasy, as far as I know. His servants were mighty people – swordsmen, warriors with enchanted armors, magicians and skilled assassins… Yet no one could do more than just scratch the ancient creature.”
“Then… Why did he run from them?”
“This is… A somewhat complicated matter.” Sevrian shrugged his shoulders. “The powerful man from the Inner Fantasy and the goliath worked together in the past and the non-human knew a lot of the people that were tasked with killing him. He didn’t want to kill them, so getting away seemed like the best option at the time. And so he reached the Outer Fantasy in hopes that he could hide amongst the unexplored parts of its vast wilderness. Sadly…” he shook his head regrettably. “The men on his tail were just a little too good when it comes to tracing. Even when we’re talking about a creature as quick and powerful as the goliath... They managed to find him… At that very pass that we’re traversing right now.”
Ehrir felt how the hair on his neck stood up. A quick – and dark – realization came to him in the matter of seconds.
“Are those… Their bones?” he asked in a low voice.
Sevrian nodded, his eyes wandering around the countless burned remains around him. There wasn’t a single whole skeleton here, or at least the Undone One couldn’t notice one.
“There were several thousand of them, a huge number even for most of the elite amongst the human sorcerers. Yet… That goliath killed them without much of a struggle. Only one man survived to tell the tale from that day besides the non-human… He spoke about a hurricane of slashes made from compressed air that could cut through steel like it was butter, and about a blazing inferno of fire that turned flesh to ash in seconds. The man was spared for one reason alone – to go back to his master and try to stop him from sending more people after the goliath, effectively preventing hundreds if not thousands of unnecessary deaths. The man did it and his master never pursued the goliath again, even when the aforementioned returned to the Inner Fantasy and sided with one of the other significant rulers there. The bones of the victims of this... accident still stand there, somehow not scattered, perhaps thanks to being under a thick layer of snow during the winter.”
The old man went silent, seemingly finished with his story. But Ehrir wasn’t satisfied with the ending.
“Master…” he began unconfidently. “How long ago did that happen?”
“Around a century, maybe a little bit more…” the mage’s voice was filled with uncertainty. “Master Ostrias told me this tale and I’ve forgotten some of the details over the years.”
“Then… Has he told you the name of this creature… the goliath?”
“Yes, but I don’t think it’s really important… Regardless of that – his full name is incredibly hard to memorize, but they call him Imhalian and also ‘the last goliath’.”
“The last goliath?”
Sevrian glanced at his disciple without answering, his eyes shining in a strange way… He looked sad.
“Yes, young man. Right now, that very same non-human is the last of his race... And even his legendary might is slowly fading away.” His tone was grim.
Ehrir felt a dark sensation in his mind. How could such a strong being simply be washed away by the river of time? It would be almost hilarious if it didn’t sound so bleak. But if a creature so ancient as the goliath could meet its death by the passing of ages… Then someone like Ehrir could kill Farnaraen, at least if he had the power necessary.
The Pass of charred bones left the Undone One with both a dark feeling – feeling that nothing can last forever – and hope that the man he wanted to kill could actually die by his hand.
***
It took the travelling party a few days to descend the mountain from the Pass. It was a tricky task, sometimes even more tiresome than hiking upwards, especially for the horses. After they reached the forests, it snowed again, but far lighter than the last time. The terrain could be traversed, in any case.
Everything was going according to the plan of Sevrian and the witch, albeit a little slower. The southern side of the mountain chain wasn't as thickly covered in forests as the northern one, but it seemed steeper and more devoid of life. The last fact made both the mages and the guards calm, but spelled certain doom for the party's supplies. The few goats, squirrels and birds that some of the disciples managed to catch didn't add much to the decreasing amounts of food.
Salelia mentioned making artificial food one night, and even Nalia made a dark grimace at the witch's suggestion. Still... Nothing was going really bad for Ehrir and his companions.
That was until they met the assassins.