They Who Wander

Chapter 6, Part 2, Through the Trail

Shortly afterwards, they had continued onward.

The rest of the forest had been cakewalk. Oscar had led the way, cutting down bushes, branches, and pushing away boulders that could have otherwise sent them off-course. Both had kept silent throughout the remainder, save for the occasional grunt or heaving for air. Nympha had her eyes sharpened for predators around the area.

Hours later, they now found themselves at the base of Mt. Trofat. It rose a little lower than the other mountains in the range it belonged in, but it was still steep and dangerous. It was the limit of Oscar's view from the chamber room in Goldnard Manor; everything beyond it would be new for his eyes.

"So this is the trading path," he muttered, scaling the mountain with his gaze.

The trail began with a wooden sign that was too chipped to be readable. A distinct path had been cleared, winding up to a certain height ahead--but it stopped in a fork, encircling both sides of the mountain. At that point, they would have to rely on their own navigation.

Oscar didn't feel particularly confident. If anything, his spirit was beginning to waver.

Nympha kept close to him, her fair skin against his arms. "Are Nympha and Oscar going to climb that?"

"Yes." Oscar soughed. "Let's go."

The trek began quickly--Oscar was eager to let the rush do the job. As they neared the base, their steps began to feel heavier. Soon, they had to use their hands to push themselves across ledges too high. The air around them grew thicker, the temperature lower. They kept going and going until the rush had dissolved.

They took a short break on a cliff somewhere on the mountain. From that height, Oscar saw everything in reverse: the forest they had just came out, the dead village of Wolfpine, Northbloom Forest, and a very familiar bastion that sent puffs of smoke up in the air from its chimneys. For a second, he feared his fellow servants could see him from there.

"Wow," Nympha mumbled beside him, inching closer to take a look too. "Nympha sees many trees!"

Beyond the manor, Oscar saw a deep, wide canyon stretching on all directions, disappearing in the horizon without a hint of life or civilization. It felt like the edge of the world.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Yes. Nympha is okay," she replied.

"Okay, then we'll get going."

They continued with less energy. Oscar's legs began to feel fore, his head a bit lighter, and his arms limper. Nympha followed behind, so he assumed she was okay. The cold started to become more unforgiving as they made their way up. His boots no longer meant anything--his feet were a pair of freezing meat.

It was only when he reached the end of the trail did he notice Nympha's slight delay. She forced herself up the last ledge and walked a couple more steps until she fell on her knees. Oscar hurried to her as she gasped for air.

"Hey," he said.

He ran his fingers around her neck. She was icy cold. Her lips had dried, and what little color she had on her fair skin had already gone away. He helped her up to her feet and assisted her across the fork.

"Just a little bit more," he told her. Her breathing was slower and deeper. "Do you know anything about this? Which path is better?"

Nympha's head hung. "L-Left."

"O-Okay." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they made for the left path, but she pushed him away.

"Nympha can walk," she said. Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Oscar nodded. "I'll slow down for you."

Then, going against the harsh winter, they continued on.

* * *

Nympha could barely feel her limbs in the cold.

Left, she had muttered.

It was a lie, however. She didn't know anything about the mountain. "Left" was simply the first response that came to her head. She couldn't bear the cold any longer. She was desperate to move on.

Oscar had promised to slow his pace down, and he did--but against the ravaging storm of snow and frost, he was nothing but a blur ahead. She felt his fingers against hers, but they were icy. Her head throbbed, her chest hurt, and her legs threatened to snap.

"Another ledge ahead." Oscar's voice was muffled. "I-I'll carry you over this time, Nympha."

Nympha is grateful, she thought. She felt his arm around her again. He moved with her, slowly but steadily. At the sight of the high ledge--a few dark stones jutting out of the white--she felt her feet leaving the ground. Oscar sprawled her over with all the strength he could muster. Shortly after, he climbed up himself, wiping the snow off his legs and feet as he knelt beside her. He waited for her to get up.

But she never did.

"Hey, Nympha?"

It was as if the snow had drowned her lungs dry. Her breathing hurried, her head lolled down, and every heart beat drummed like thunder. She felt the sky closing in, the air constricting all around her as her body heat declined. She was breathing in cold air and breathing out colder air. Her arms had gone, her legs had gone--

"Nympha! Hey!"

Then her mind had gone.