The wind cut across the jagged slopes of the mountain, sharp and cold, carrying with it the scent of wet stone and moss. Quen perched on a rock ledge, legs dangling over the steep drop, eyes fixed on the ground beneath. His hands itched to dig, to uncover something hidden beneath layers of soil and rock. Around him, a small group of youths clattered with shovels and picks, kicking up dust as they searched blindly, aimlessly yet obsessively, for something none of them truly understood.
"This place… it feels like it's alive," muttered one of them, a thin boy named Rethin, as he crouched over a cluster of dark stones. "Like it's hiding things… things we're not meant to find."
Quen said nothing, only nodded, his gaze lingering on the faint shimmer of the rocks. Something tugged at his chest an intuition he couldn't name, a pulse beneath the earth. He had felt it before, in fleeting glimpses, in dreams that faded the moment he awoke, but now it was real, tangible. Something waited below, and he would find it.
Hours passed in the monotony of scraping, prying, and digging. Hands blistered, backs ached, and small stones clattered down the mountain slope, vanishing into the shadows. Most of the youths were restless, complaining about the effort, about hunger, about the unending climb. Quen, however, kept his focus, crouched low, fingertips brushing the cold soil with patient care.
Then, a sudden shout cut through the air.
"I… I found something!"
The group froze. Then chaos erupted. Shovels were dropped. Feet scuffed against loose rocks. All eyes turned to a small, half buried object glinting faintly in the dying light. Quen scrambled forward, heart hammering.
The relic lay in the dirt, unlike anything he had ever seen. Its surface shimmered subtly, neither metal nor stone, neither warm nor cold, but somehow alive. It seemed to pulse faintly with its own heartbeat, though Quen knew that was impossible.
"Give it here!" Rethin lunged for it, yanking it free before the discoverer could even protest. Others crowded around, hands reaching, eyes wide with awe and fear.
Quen held back, observing silently. The relic hummed softly, responding to the attention, almost as if it were testing them. He felt a strange tug in his chest a pull toward understanding, toward grasping the weight of what they had uncovered. But he knew better than to rush.
Above them, the light shifted unnaturally fast. Shadows stretched long and thin, creeping down the slopes with a speed that made Quen's stomach twist.
"Is it just me, or is it getting dark… faster?" asked one of the older youths, his voice uncertain.
"No," said another. "It can't be. The sun hasn't moved that quickly."
"Maybe it's the mountain casting shadows differently," Rethin said, though his tone was unsure. "Or… the wind… maybe it changes the air somehow?"
Quen's eyes narrowed. "Or… maybe it's the relic," he said softly, almost afraid to speak the thought aloud. The others turned toward him, frowning, skeptical.
"Don't be ridiculous," one girl said sharply. "It's just a rock."
"It's no ordinary rock," Quen murmured. His fingers itched to reach out, but he kept them tucked close. "There's… something about it."
And so the discussion began. One theory led to another. They argued, speculated, debated. Some believed in superstition; some clung to reason. Nobody agreed on anything. Fingers pointed. Voices rose and fell. Small conflicts flared over who had the right to hold the relic, who dared approach the steep edges of the mountain, who could be trusted. The sky above darkened steadily, indifferent to their squabbles.
Night fell faster than any of them had ever seen. The last hints of orange and gold slipped behind distant peaks, replaced by a twilight so deep it seemed almost unnatural. Shadows stretched, twisted, moving along the rocks as if they had their own life. A sudden clatter of a loose stone echoed too loudly in the silence, and the group jumped in unison.
Quen's stomach churned. He felt it someone, something, observing them. A presence that was not one of their own. He turned, scanning the slopes, but there was nothing. Only shadows, creeping closer with each passing moment.
"We should head back," Rethin finally said, his voice tight with tension. "This isn't right. The darkness… it's too fast."
They began their descent, careful with each step, wary of loose stones and unseen crevices. The relic was passed among them carefully, a weight heavier than it should have been, a burden tinged with awe.
Then, in the distance, a sudden flash tore through the mountains. A light, blinding and white, shot across the horizon from the far ridge. They froze, mouths open, eyes wide. The light was powerful, almost alive, casting stark shadows across the slopes, painting the world in stark contrast.
"What… what is that?" whispered one of the girls, clutching her arm.
"No idea," said Quen. His voice was barely audible. His chest tightened as he watched the light flicker and vanish into the darkness. Something immense had been awakened. Something they could not yet comprehend.
The group continued down the mountain in silence. The relic hummed faintly in their hands, as though sensing their fear. The wind whispered around them, carrying with it a faint hint of energy, a chill that touched the skin and rattled the bones.
Finally, the city gates loomed in the distance, dark and silent against the growing night. They approached cautiously, still clutching the relic, still debating what had happened, still filled with questions that had no answers.
Quen paused for a moment before stepping through the gate, looking up at the stars faintly glowing through the night sky. The relic throbbed softly in his hands, the memory of the flash of light still burning in his mind. This was only the beginning. He could feel it in his bones: the world was changing, and they were standing at the threshold of something far greater than any of them could imagine.
And with that thought, Quen crossed the city gates, leaving the mountain for now.