The mountain of mourning

Chapter Ten: The Mountains of Mourning

The journey to the Mountains of Mourning was long and arduous. Elara traveled for days, her path winding through dense forests, across rushing rivers, and over rocky terrain. The map glowed faintly in her hand, its light guiding her ever forward. The whispers of the forest had faded, replaced by the eerie silence of the mountains.

The Mountains of Mourning loomed ahead, their peaks shrouded in dark clouds. The air grew colder with each step, and the ground beneath her feet became jagged and uneven. Elara pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her breath visible in the frosty air.

As she approached the base of the mountains, she noticed a narrow path carved into the rock. It was steep and treacherous, but it was the only way forward. She took a deep breath and began to climb, her hands gripping the rough stone for support.

The higher she climbed, the more the air seemed to thin. Her lungs burned with each breath, and her muscles ached from the effort. But she pressed on, her determination unwavering.

After hours of climbing, she reached a plateau. The ground was flat and covered in a thin layer of snow, and at its center stood a massive stone archway. The same crescent moon symbol from the map was carved into the keystone, glowing faintly in the dim light.

Elara stepped through the archway and found herself in a vast, underground cavern. The walls were lined with glowing crystals, their light casting an ethereal glow over the space. At the center of the cavern stood a pedestal, and on it rested a gemstone that pulsed with a soft, golden light.

The Heart of Elyndor.

Elara's heart raced as she approached the pedestal. She could feel the power radiating from the Heart, a warm, comforting presence that seemed to fill the cavern.

But as she reached out to touch it, a voice echoed through the cavern.

Do you truly believe you are worthy?"*

Elara froze, her hand hovering above the Heart. She turned to see a figure emerging from the shadows. It was a woman, tall and regal, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

"Who are you?" Elara asked, her voice trembling.

The woman smiled, though her expression was filled with sorrow. "I am the Keeper of the Heart. And you, Elara, must prove yourself worthy to claim it."

Elara frowned. "How?"

The Keeper stepped forward, her gaze piercing. "The Heart is not a mere relic. It is the soul of Elyndor, the embodiment of its magic and its people. To claim it, you must face the Trials of the Heart."

Elara's heart pounded. She had already faced the Trial of Stars, but this felt different. The stakes were higher, the challenges greater.

"What are the trials?" she asked, her voice steady despite her fear.

The Keeper raised her hand, and the cavern began to change. The walls melted away, replaced by a swirling void of darkness. The ground beneath Elara's feet dissolved, and she found herself standing in a vast, empty space.

*"The first trial is the Trial of Memory,"* the Keeper's voice echoed through the void. *"To claim the Heart, you must confront your past."*

The void shifted, and Elara found herself standing in the village of Wrenhaven. The streets were familiar, but something felt… off. The air was heavy with tension, and the people moved with a sense of urgency.

And then she saw him.

Her father.

He stood at the door of the bookshop, his face pale and drawn. He looked older than she remembered, his hair streaked with gray and his eyes filled with sorrow.

"Elara," he said, his voice trembling. "Why did you leave?"

Elara's heart ached. She had left a note, but she had never said goodbye. She had been so focused on her journey, on finding Elyndor, that she hadn't stopped to think about what her absence would do to him.

"I had to," she said, her voice breaking. "I had to find Elyndor."

Her father shook his head, his expression filled with pain. "And what about me? What about us? Did you even think about what your leaving would do to me?"

Elara's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Her father stepped forward, his hand reaching out to her. "Then come home, Elara. Please. Before it's too late."

Elara wanted to say yes, to take his hand and go back to the life she had left behind. But she knew she couldn't. Elyndor needed her. The kingdom was counting on her.

"I can't," she whispered, her voice filled with regret. "I'm sorry."

Her father's expression hardened, and he stepped back. "Then you are not the daughter I raised."

The scene dissolved, and Elara found herself back in the void, her heart heavy with guilt and sorrow.

*"The past is a part of you,"* the Keeper's voice echoed. *"But it does not define you. Do you accept this?"*

Elara nodded, her voice trembling. "I do."

The void shifted again, and Elara found herself standing in the throne room of Elyndor. King Alden sat on the throne, his expression grave.

"Elara," he said, his voice filled with urgency. "Malakar's shadow grows darker. We need the Heart. Now."

Elara's heart raced. She had to find the Heart, but the trials were far from over.

*"The second trial is the Trial of Sacrifice,"* the Keeper's voice echoed. *"To claim the Heart, you must be willing to give up what you hold most dear."*

Elara frowned. "What do you mean?"

The Keeper stepped forward, her gaze piercing. "The Heart demands a sacrifice. To claim it, you must be willing to give up something of great value. Something you cannot bear to lose."

Elara's mind raced. What could she possibly give up? Her sword? Her map? Her memories?

And then it hit her.

Her connection to Elyndor.

If she claimed the Heart, she would become a part of the kingdom, bound to its magic and its people. But in doing so, she would lose her connection to the life she had left behind. To her father. To Wrenhaven.

The thought filled her with dread, but she knew she had no choice. Elyndor needed her. The kingdom was counting on her.

"I accept," she said, her voice steady despite her fear.

The Keeper nodded, her expression filled with both pride and sorrow. "Then the Heart is yours."

The void dissolved, and Elara found herself back in the cavern, the Heart of Elyndor glowing faintly on the pedestal. She reached out and touched it, her fingers brushing against its smooth surface.

The moment she did, a surge of power rushed through her, filling her with warmth and light. She could feel the magic of Elyndor flowing through her, connecting her to the kingdom and its people.

But with it came a sense of loss, a deep, aching sorrow that she knew would never fully fade.

She had claimed the Heart. But at what cost?