Fourth Arc (Thorns of The Black Throne) - 417. Why Do You Keep Hiding?
The wind howled like something alive, not in warning, but in mockery.
Erebus Mountain never slept.
Even in the dead of night, it breathed. Slow. Heavy. Cold. Its spine was jagged stone, its teeth were cliffs, and its lungs... fog. Thick, living fog that clung to everything like rot.
The kind that didn't just obscure vision but pulled at you, whispered in your ear with voices that weren't your own.
And above it all, the moon.
High, full, useless.
Its light couldn't pierce the fog tonight. It tried. Pale silver beams scattered against the dense veil draped across the slope, like broken spears tossed at a god that never bled.
Far below, the forest twisted with motion. Leaves rustled in ways that didn't match the wind. Claws scratched bark. Something let out a low growl... too deep to be a wolf, too cruel to be anything natural.
Angel didn't flinch.
He was halfway up the mountain's western face, fingers digging into stone that cracked and splintered with every grip. His cloak clung to his back, wet from fog and sweat, the black fabric sticking to him like a second, shivering skin.
He was alone.
No guards. No attendants. No Rose.
A month had passed since Silvan's words. Since the bracelet, now locked in a warded box back in the royal vault, had cracked open a door in his memory he couldn't close.
Three attempts. This was the third.
And still… nothing.
The path had ended again. Just like the last two.
What looked like a trail from below, spiraling up the side of the mountain, always stopped somewhere unnatural.
Rocks that didn't match the rest of the stone. Gaps that looked small until you stood at their edge and realized no horse, no man, no magic could bridge them without giving something in return.
The mountain rejected him.
His breath hitched as he grabbed the next outcrop, his knuckles white through his gloves. His chest heaved, not from exhaustion, but frustration.
The climb itself wasn't difficult. Not for him. Not with his training, his magic, his body tuned from years of battle.
But this wasn't about difficulty.
It was about permission.
And Erebus was not giving it.
The fog thickened again. His vision dropped to maybe three meters. He couldn't even see his boots anymore, just the dull shape of the cliffside and the shiver of moisture rolling off the rocks.
His voice was barely a whisper. "Still nothing."
No reply.
He didn't expect one.
He reached higher, fingers scraping against sharp stone. His muscles burned, not from the climb itself, but from the repetition. The cycle. Getting this far, again. Only for the path to vanish. Again.
He found a ledge and pulled himself up slowly, one knee landing with a thud against wet rock. His breath fogged in the air, pointless against the fog that smothered it instantly.
There was no trail here.
No markings.
No ruins. No door. No cave.
Just a wall of smooth, wet stone that stretched upward and vanished into the gray void.
"Perfect," he muttered. "Again."
Angel sat back on the ledge, resting one elbow on his raised knee. He didn't speak for a while. Just listened.
To the wolves howling below. The rustling of trees that sounded like whispers. The faint skrrrkkk of something slithering across gravel far, far beneath him.
This mountain was alive.
Not like nature. Not like wilderness.
No.
This was the kind of alive that watched you.
Judged you.
Angel reached up and pulled the hood back from his head. His black hair was damp, clinging to his temple. His skin was pale beneath the fog, eyes sharper than the night around them. There was mud on his gloves.
But he didn't care.
He'd been up here too many times to care about that.
He rubbed his face, jaw clenched. "Why do you keep hiding?"
There was no reply. Only the wind.
He stared up at the rock above him.
"You called me here, didn't you?" His voice was low now. Bitter. "That bracelet. That memory. That woman."
His fingers curled into fists.
"I came."
Nothing.
The silence was suffocating.
Not empty. Never empty.
Erebus didn't speak in words. But its message was clear.
Not yet.
Angel closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the stone wall behind him. The chill sank into his skull like frostbite, but he didn't move.
His mind was noisy.
Note: The title is different from what I promised since I decided to change some part of the story.
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