Prologue

It came out of nowhere. The puffy, angelic cotton-like clouds that had crowned the velvet sky in seemingly everlasting silence were now gone. Mixed were the colours of ash and smoke in nature's palate above as everything descended into chaos. Gales of unimaginable powers pulled snow and ice into deadly dance of extermination. Zephyr threw himself into the crack, barely escaping being the fate of being blown away. Cold sweat ran down his back as he looked out, more than one chill arising from every corner of his battered body. The snowy landscape that had been peaceful a moment ago was now targeted by god-knows what and wrapped up in the most frightening snowstorm one could possibly imagine. Icicles the size of spears and winds sharper than swords bombarded the ancient mountain. He sat crouching halfway up between the crest and the peak, his back against the hard, cold ice, afraid even the most subtle movement would provoke whatever it was venting its vehement, unchallenged wrath. Several days passed before the snowstorm finally transformed into a world-covering blanket. He peered out from the edge of the crack. Everything was white. And still. As if nothing ever happened. But he knew that the human footprints covering the crest below were gone. As were the jagged marks from the path he had taken upward. If he were to slip now, or make a mistake during the last stretch, no one would know of it. His remains would be covered in gargantuan masses of snow and everything about him forgotten. He would not allow that to happen, never. He clenched his fists. As he did, the tingling in those two spots on his back intensified. Zephyr inhaled deeply. The cold air of dawn seeped through his nose, filling his lungs with a strange calmness. Then he exhaled. It was time to continue.