Chapter 10: Ash and Ice

Dawn spilled over the mountain ridgeas Yan stirred awake. His head pounding. His body ached. He blinked up to find Lin sitting nearby, sharpening his blade with calm, methodical strokes. 

Yan sat up slowly. His voice was hoarse. 

"... Did I hurt you?" 

Lin didn't looked at him. "No." 

Yan hesitated, eyes dropping. "I saw them. My parents. The fire. I thought I forgot how it felt but... it was all there again. Like I was in it." 

Lin stopped sharpening. 

For a moment, nothing but wind.

Then, without turning, Lin spoke, voice flat.

" This journey will only get worse. You can still turn back." 

Yan gave a small, forced laugh. " After all that? No chance." 

"Besides," he added, forcing a grin, "someone's got to make you talk more." 

Lin looked at him, unamused.

They packed in silence after that and began their journey to the second mountain.

The path twisted into a deep, icy ravine. Trees gave way to cliffs, their surfaces etched with markings, shapes like chained spirits, crying faces and jagged teeth.

Yan stuck closer to Lin than usual, arms crossed over his chest. 

"This place... gives me a weird feeling," he muttered.

Lin nodded once.

"They say the second mountains traps spirit that died in anguish. If we don't free them, they'll costume us." 

"...Cool," Yan muttered sarcastically. " No pressure." 

As they climbed, cold mist crept over there boots. Strange shapes moved in the fog. Whispers echoed between the cliffs fragmented, painful.

"I miss her..."

"Why did I die?" 

"Where is my child?"

Yan froze. His fingers trembled.

"Lin... are those...?

"Don't listen."

But Yan's breath caught as a soft voice said near his ear.

"Yan, come home,"

He turned, wide eyed.

There, in the fog his mother.

She looked just like the memories. Smiling. Reaching out.

Yan reached towards her, eyes glazed. 

But Lin grabbed his wrist, yanking him back.

"She's not real." 

The mist women's face twisted into a hollow scream before vanishing into ash.

The whispers grew louder and more violent.

The spirits attacked.

Twisting forms shot out from the fog, ghosts of soldiers, weeping mother's and snarling beasts. Lin drew his blade, slashing through them, each strike severing fog from form. But they kept coming.

Yan backed up, gripping a loose branch, swinging wildly when one came to close.

"I'm not dying here again!' he yelled.

"Then stay close!" Lin shouted, driving his blade into the cliff.

A pulse of light erupted from the rock, stunning the spirits.

"Up!" Lin ordered.

They climbed fast, dodging grasping hands, scrams, teeth of mist.

Finally, at summit, Lin found the seal, a shattered grave marker surrounded by bones. 

"It's here," he muttered. "The anchor." 

Without hesitation, he placed his both hands on the and began chanting something ancient, low, guttural, not meant for human tongues.

The spirits shrieked louder, swarming.

Yan grabbed a fallen sword, fending them off as best as he could.

One latched on yo his leg. Another clawed his neck.

"Lin...faster!" 

The marker glowed.

And then silence.

The spirits stopped. 

One by one they vanished in to snow flakes.

Only the wind remained.

Yan dropped the sword , panting

"...Is it over?" 

Lin stood slowly, eyes distant. 

"They're free." 

Yan exhalef, collapsing on the icy ground. 

"I seriously need a nap." 

Lin didn't respond.

Instead he looked towards the third mountain in the distance. 

Its peak was blood-red under the sunset.

Next... the mountain of fire.