The Last Beacon

XXXIV

By the time they had made it to the base of the mountain, an entire day had passed.

Sascha and Laurenz had walked through the night, not stopping. Both of them were determined to reach their goal, so they agreed they would not rest until they made it.

When they reached it, Sascha was astounded at the sheer size of it. She knew it would be large, but as she stood at the foot of the mountain, she could not see the summit.

The Iron Mountain was made of rock with dark hues, and it was made up of sheer cliffs. Further up, closer to the top, there were plateaus that were full of trees and greenery. Many plants and shrubs were dotted up the cliff face, giving the dark rocks a splash of colour.

"Where do we go from here?" Sascha asked, looking around for an indication of where they were meant to go.

Laurenz opened his pack, rummaging around for something. For a moment, Sascha was confused, but as he pulled out a roll of yellowed parchment, she began to understand.

Laurenz unrolled the prophecy, and Sascha moved closer so she could also see the words.

As she read the prophecy, she skimmed over the parts that they had already followed, and focused on the remaining passage.

Beware for when the edges fray

When the future looks bleak and grey.

Beware the shadow of blue and black

Who will try to stop and take it back.

The stars will begin to fall fast

Unless the fight is won by last.

"What does it even mean?" She asked, "the last half makes even less sense than the first half."

"I'm not particularly sure either," Laurenz admitted, "none of this really tells us where we need to go from this point. The only thing I can think of is that we find our way to the top."

"Why the top?"

"There's a legend that at the top, there's a plateau that only the bravest adventurers dare to find. Apparently, it's where the spirits come down to meet every so often, and so it holds some mystical energy, or something. I find it hard to believe, but with what we've seen on this journey so far, I'm not sure that it's actually so far-fetched. It's not much to go on, but it's all I can think of," he explained.

"Surely that must be it, then?" Sascha asked.

"It's a start. We're running out of options, and we can't give up after coming this far. I say we just go for it."

"Okay, let's do it then," Sascha agreed, before stopping, "but how will we get up there? It's too steep to climb, and I can't even see the top from here."

Laurenz sighed, "there is a way, but it's not safe."

"This whole journey hasn't been safe," Sascha countered, "what makes this any different?"

"Well," he started, sheepishly, "the Iron Mountain is home to the dwarves, and let's just say that I'm not exactly on the best of terms with them."

"What the hell did you do?"

Laurenz cringed, "a long time ago, back in my bounty hunting days, I was enlisted in a plot to kill the king of dwarves, King Mortimalus, and I managed to injure him pretty bad. However, he wasn't killed, so you can guess that he wasn't particularly impressed at what had been attempted."

"So they won't like it if you go in there?"

"No, not at all. In fact, they don't really like anyone going in there. They're the last remaining dwarven clan on the continent, so they're naturally very secretive. Especially after the plot to kill Mortimalus, they are barely ever seen beyond the confines of this mountain."