From the teachings of The Radiant Path, the Book of Resilience, written in the Pure Tongue
Aníron-nín, i nahta ta anwa i nauro, ar i glingal sívë yassen
My spirit, the night may seem endless and dark, but the starlight will guide you.
They continued through the thinned-out forest, the silence broken only by the sound of their footsteps and the occasional rustling of leaves. The moon shone brightly overhead as Eira walked beside Monty, feeling the weight of his words and the gravity of their situation.
Monty continued to give Eira advice on how to navigate through the Glacial Spine. "The terrain can be treacherous, and the weather is unpredictable," he said. "I hope you have warm clothes in your pack and enough provisions to last a day."
Eira adjusted her pack in response and fought the urge to dig through it in confirmation, hoping she had done so as well. She had known that this journey would eventually bring her to the perils of the Glacial Spine, but she and Lynden had agreed there wasn't time to travel through the Silver Pass if she wanted to get to Aerindir's capital in time.
Monty began to hum a catchy tune that made Eira want to pull out her violin and accompany him. "What's that tune?" she asked, smiling.
Monty grinned. "Oh, just a little ditty my mom used to sing to me when I was a hatchling. It's about a dragon who couldn't breathe fire but could sing like a bard."
Eira groaned. "Well, I hope you don't start singing on our journey. Even after three ales last night, I still remember how tone-deaf you were. I don't know if I could handle that again."
Monty was deadpan. "Oh, really? I seem to remember you playing along heartily and singing along, or was that a different violinist?"
Eira sputtered, then crossed her arms and sighed. "Alright, fine. Maybe I did join in a little bit. But that doesn't mean you should subject me to your singing again."
Monty laughed, his emerald eyes shining in the sunlight. "Don't worry, I'll spare you. But if we come across any bards on our journey, you might be in trouble."
Eira grinned. "I think I can handle a little bit of bardic music. As long as it's not coming from you, of course."
Monty shrugged. "Suit yourself. But you'll be missing out on some truly epic dragon ballads."
The familiar led her through the forest for several hours until they finally emerged into a clearing. The sun has risen, but as they traveled closer to the chill of the mountains, it began to lose the warmth that she had basked in throughout their travels. In the distance, Eira could see the towering peaks of the Glacial Spine, covered in snow and ice.
"There it is," Monty said, pointing to the mountains. "The border of Caladrielle and Aerindir lies between the mountains. You should be able to make it through in a day if you stay focused and keep moving."
Eira took a deep breath, feeling a sense of both fear and excitement. The journey ahead would be much more difficult on her own, but at least she had not had to make the entire trek on her own. "Thank you, Monty. I couldn't have made it this far without your help."
Monty bowed his head. "It was an honor to serve you, Princess. I wish you luck on your journey."
She punched his arm. "It's Eira, you skeleton."
His green eyes gleamed as he bared his dagger-like teeth in what she assumed was a friendly grin. "Ah, apologies."
Eira loosed a sigh. "You really need to work on that."
Monty chuckled. "Perhaps we can work on that when you return. Be safe, Eira."
Eira surprised herself and gathered him into a tight hug before she thought better of it. Monty was less...boney than she had been expecting. "Thank you, Monty," she whispered into his robes, her voice thick with emotion.
Monty patted her back awkwardly before stepping back. "You'll be alright. You're a fierce warrior and a powerful mage. And when you can't use magic, you'll have your music and wit to help you. Be safe, Eira. Trust no one."
Eira spoke softly. "I won't."
With that, Monty gleamed the color of his striking eyes, then disappeared entirely, leaving Eira alone. She turned her gaze back to the looming mountains ahead and then took her first step forward toward the Spine.
Eira adjusted her pack to better reach into it and pulled out a map, studying it carefully. The path she was traveling was somewhat ingenuous, never taking her entirely up a peak, and rather using the treacherous side paths and passes of the mountains to skirt such arduous activity. It was likely that the trip would only take her one day, instead of the usual three it took most travelers. There was a reason these paths were less traveled, though. They were not well maintained, and Monty had warned her some spots could crumble with the wrong amount of weight.
The border of Caladrielle and Aerindir was just between the middle of the mountain range, and the border was marked by a small village that was nestled within the mountains on the other side of the Aerindirean border called Dun Faerdor. She would rest there for the night, then continue on through Argent's Bay, and then the valley to the Dark Castle.
After an hour, she had to pause and don her traveler's cloak, as ice was forming on the ground. The trees had given way to shriveled underbrush. After two hours, the snow was already ankle-deep, and the wind was biting cold. She pulled her cloak tighter around her and trudged forward, hoping that her violin could withstand the extreme change of temperature.
As she climbed higher into the mountains, Eira began to feel the effects of the altitude. Her breaths came in short gasps, and her legs burned with exertion. She found herself looking to the east, to the distant waters of the Silver Pass, and wishing she was feeling the salt of the sea of her face rather than the icy daggers of the wind. She pressed on, taking frequent breaks to rest and catch her breath.
As the day wore on, Eira grew weary, and the sun began to dip towards the horizon. The weather continued to worsen. The snowfall became heavier, the winds stronger, and the temperature dropped dramatically. Eira's feet and hands were numb from the cold, and she could feel her energy waning. She knew she had to keep moving, but her body was starting to protest.
As she rounded a bend in the path, the ground beneath her feet gave way. Eira was plummeting, a cry on her lips as she slid down a steep slope covered in ice and snow, unable to find anything to grab onto to stop herself. She tumbled into rocks, snow, and underbrush as the ground of a lower ravine raced up to meet her. She slid further and further, picking up speed as she went until she finally came to a stop at the bottom of the slope. The snow managed to cushion her fall, as it was three times higher here, as if it had been collecting what was blown from the mountainside.
Eira lay there for a moment, stunned, before she started to assess the damage. Her pack had been torn off and scattered down the slope. She tried to stand, but her ankle throbbed with pain, and she realized she had twisted it badly in the fall.
As Eira trudged through the knee-deep snow, her body began to feel numb. She had never been in such a harsh and unforgiving climate before, and her injury wasn't helping matters either. She reached for her violin case, only to realize it was no longer on her back, either. Eira reached her hands to her neck, confirming that Tinwëgil was still there with a momentary flash of relief. She frantically turned around, scanning her surroundings for where her violin could have landed. But both her pack and the violin her mother had given her were nowhere to be seen.
She started to scream out for her beloved instrument, her voice echoing off the mountains. "Where is it?" she screamed, willing for someone to answer her. "Where is my violin?"
Her panic began to mount as the realization that she might have lost it in the tumble, and it was likely broken and shattered amongst the snowy drifts. The thought of even a scratch on the precious wood made Eira's chest tighten with each passing moment as she continued to scream for her lost violin, her voice bouncing off the mountain range. Her breaths became shallow. She fell to her knees, desperately digging through the snow, not caring as her fingers became cracked and numbed with her efforts.
Eira knew she looked insane as she frantically dug through the snow, sending it flying in all directions. After scouring the entire ravine and peering up the mountainside, she fell back to her knees, her breaths coming in heaves that caused her throat to sting. It was not here.
It was gone.
She let out a gut-wrenching wail that echoed along the mountains.
Tears streamed down her face, leaving hot trails on her frostbitten skin. Her cries echoed through the valley, but she couldn't bring herself to care if the sound attracted dangerous creatures. She wished for something worse than a Hindoloth to put an end to her misery, to bring an end to the agony that filled her heart. She didn't care if it attracted Hindoloths. Let something worse than a Hindoloth come and end her misery, she thought bitterly as more screams ripped from her throat.
The violin had been the only thing left of her mother, the last connection the two had shared. She had barely been able to get her fingers back on the instrument when she had returned to court in Caladrielle. And now, it was broken upon the mountainside, never to be found again.
The weight of her failure crushed her, and she let out another wail that sounded like it came from the depths of her soul. Years and years of pain come roaring out of her and she continued her lament, to the silent gods who had chosen her for a fool's errand.
Eira collapsed into the snow, feeling the icy drifts close around her.
She had failed. She had failed. The moment she had been left alone, she had utterly failed. Even when Elindar had fallen, she had not been alone. Freya and Fëandil had been there, helping her put the broken pieces of her heart back together. Where she had been weak, they had been strong.
But now, she was entirely alone. And she was so, so tired. The wind whistled in her ears. Eira wondered when it would have been acceptable for someone to give up if they had been in her situation. She found that she didn't care.
Nothing had ever been okay in her life. Her father hadn't wanted her. Her mother had died for the love she had for her. Those whom she loved only ended up getting hurt by her actions. She had been chosen as a martyr for a goddess who chose not to act directly. Now that she couldn't be distracted by daily activity or banter, all she was left with were her thoughts.
She lay there in the snow and ice, letting her body go limp, and closed her eyes. She leaned further down into the snow, wanting to let the snowbanks overcome her entirely.
***
Awe, poor Eira 😭💔
This scene was very hard to write, trying to get into her headspace when things are all going wrong.
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