The path beyond the Gate of Whispers narrowed as it climbed higher, twisting between cliffs of black stone. The mist thickened again, muffling their footsteps and wrapping the world in a pale shroud. Even Kael's steady pace grew slower, more cautious.
For hours they climbed in silence, hearing only the crunch of boots against gravel and the soft hiss of the wind. The mountains loomed close on both sides, their jagged peaks hidden behind the swirling fog. The air was colder here, so sharp it felt like breathing shards of glass.
Lira's small hand tightened around Aric's. Her cheeks were pale from the cold, but her eyes still shone with stubborn determination. "It feels like something's watching us," she whispered.
Aric scanned the misty cliffs. "You're not wrong," he murmured.
Kael halted suddenly, raising his spear. His sharp eyes swept the ridge above them. "We're close to the Silent Steps," he said grimly. "This is where the mountain's guardians dwell."
"Guardians?" Aric asked.
"Not men," Kael replied, keeping his voice low. "They say the ancients carved them from stone and bound them with the mountain's breath. They sleep… until intruders pass."
A shiver prickled Aric's neck. "Then let's move carefully."
They pressed on, and soon the path opened into a broad terrace carved into the cliffside. The ground was paved with huge, flat stones, worn smooth by centuries of weather. Lining the terrace on both sides stood colossal statues—warriors kneeling with heads bowed, their massive hands resting on the hilts of great stone blades.
The statues were half-buried in snow and moss, but their faces were unnervingly lifelike, as if carved by a sculptor who had once seen them alive. Their hollow eyes seemed to follow the group as they walked between them.
Lira clutched her doll tightly. "I don't like this place."
Kael's voice was hushed. "No one does."
Aric's gaze drifted over the statues as they moved forward. There were dozens of them, their ranks stretching far along the terrace until the mist swallowed them. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were more than stone. The relic at his side thrummed softly, as if in warning.
Halfway across the terrace, the mountain trembled beneath their feet. A deep rumble rolled through the cliffs, sending small stones skittering down the slopes. Lira stumbled, and Aric caught her arm.
Then, with a grinding sound like breaking ice, one of the statues' heads turned.
Its hollow eyes lit with a dim blue glow. The stone fingers tightened around the hilt of its blade. A crack split the statue's shoulder as it began to rise, shedding fragments of snow and moss.
Kael's spear snapped into a ready stance. "Keep moving!" he barked.
But it was too late. Across the terrace, other statues stirred, their massive forms shifting, rising, dragging their great blades free of the ground. The air grew heavy with an ancient presence, and the mist seemed to curl around the awakening guardians like coiling serpents.
Aric drew his sword, stepping in front of Lira. The relic at his belt pulsed with a steady light, as if bracing him. "We'll never outrun them," he said. "We have to break through."
The first guardian stepped forward with ponderous weight, each stride making the terrace tremble. It raised its blade high, the edge glowing faintly with the same blue light as its eyes.
Kael lunged forward, jabbing his spear at the creature's knee. The weapon sparked against the stone but found a weak seam in the joint, causing the massive leg to buckle for a moment.
"Strike the joints!" Kael shouted. "They're strongest in the chest—too thick to break!"
Aric darted to the side as the guardian's blade came crashing down where he had stood a heartbeat before. He slashed at the creature's arm, sparks flying as his sword scraped against ancient stone. The relic flared in response, and for a brief moment, his blade bit deeper, chipping the stone.
The guardian roared—a hollow, echoing sound—and swung again. Aric rolled aside, pulling Lira to safety as the blade gouged a deep trench in the terrace.
Another guardian advanced from the mist, its slow, relentless steps shaking the ground. Kael danced back, thrusting his spear to keep it at bay, his breath coming in sharp bursts.
Lira crouched behind a fallen slab of stone, her eyes wide with fear but fixed on Aric as he fought.
Aric's sword arm ached from the impact of each blow. The relic's glow strengthened, and for a heartbeat, he felt as if the warmth of the flame guided his strikes. He aimed for the guardian's elbow joint, driving his blade into the seam. With a grinding crack, the arm gave way, the massive stone sword crashing to the ground.
"Now!" Kael shouted.
Together they pushed forward, dodging the heavy swings of the remaining guardians. The path beyond the terrace was visible through the mist—narrow, steep, but open.
Another guardian lumbered into their path, but its movements were slow, its joints stiff with age. Aric met its swing head-on, deflecting it just enough to stagger past. Kael drove his spear into the creature's knee, toppling it to the side.
"Go!" Kael barked, pushing Lira ahead of him.
They dashed across the last stretch of the terrace, the ground trembling as the remaining guardians lumbered after them. Aric turned once at the edge, slashing at a reaching hand before following the others up the narrow trail.
At last they reached a steep climb that led to a ledge high above the terrace. The guardians stopped at the base of the slope, their glowing eyes fixed on the intruders. For a long moment, they stood still, like sentinels watching from the mist.
Then, as if some unseen command had been given, they returned to their kneeling positions, their eyes dimming until they were lifeless stone once more.
Lira sank to her knees on the ledge, gasping for breath. "I thought we were going to die."
Aric sheathed his sword, glancing back at the terrace below. "So did I."
Kael leaned on his spear, his expression grim. "That was only the first true challenge. Beyond this point, the mountain won't let us turn back."
Above them, the mist parted for a moment, revealing the jagged outline of the next rise—a narrow ridge that led deeper into the mountain's heart.