The darkness swallowed him whole. Cled's stomach lurched as he plummeted through the void, the icy wind tearing at his face and clothes. Every instinct screamed danger, yet the depths below were impossible to measure. Shadows moved along the walls of the abyss, coiling and stretching like serpents, their green eyes glinting with malicious intelligence.
He tried to slow his fall, channeling the Sky energy through his body. Golden sparks burst from his limbs, lighting the black void in jagged streaks of brilliance. The power slowed him slightly, but the drop was relentless. His fingers scraped the frozen walls of the fissure, ice cutting into his skin, drawing blood that crystallized immediately in the biting cold.
A sudden jolt threw him sideways, and he crashed into a jutting rock ledge. Pain shot through his shoulder, but he barely had time to register it before more shadows surged from the depths. Their forms were jagged, unnatural, twisted by the frost and dark energy of the mountain. He slashed his dagger in wide arcs, sending a wave of golden light through them. They shrieked, dissipating into icy mist—but from the shadows behind them, more emerged, relentless, coordinated.
Cled scrambled to his feet, feeling the abyss beneath him pulse with energy. Every heartbeat resonated in the mountain itself. Something enormous stirred below—something alive, awake, and ancient. His instincts screamed at him: this was no ordinary descent. The mountain was alive, and he was its prey.
He leapt again, using the jagged edges of ice as footholds. Each movement was a test of balance, of strength, of will. The fissure widened, exposing vast chambers beneath, their walls etched with runes older than memory. They glowed faintly in response to his presence, as if recognizing him—or warning him.
A low, resonant growl rolled up from the depths, shaking loose shards of ice from the walls. Cled froze, trying to locate the source. Then he saw them: massive shapes moving in the shadows, barely visible in the swirling darkness. They were enormous, their forms more solid than the Frost Shadows above, yet still warped and monstrous, like the mountain itself had birthed them.
One lunged from the darkness, claws wide, aiming straight for him. Cled twisted in midair, letting Sky energy erupt from his body. Golden light met darkness with a thunderous clash, sending shards of ice and frozen mist flying. The creature's screech echoed like rolling boulders, shaking the very walls of the abyss.
Cled landed on a narrow ledge, his legs trembling. The light from his body illuminated the cavern around him. Jagged stalactites hung like daggers from above, and the walls seemed to writhe, covered in frost patterns that shifted like frozen serpents. Each breath he drew was sharp, cold, and shallow.
He knew he couldn't stay on the ledge. The shadows were too many, the creatures too fast. He needed to descend further, to reach the center of the abyss where he had glimpsed that ancient presence during his fall. He tightened his grip on the dagger and leapt, dropping into the dark below once more.
The fall was slower this time. The Sky energy within him hummed in resonance with the cavern. Runic markings glowed faintly along the walls, guiding him—or perhaps testing him. Every instinct in his body screamed that this was a path few had ever survived, but he pressed forward, drawn by the same force that had called him to the Frost Mountains.
Then he landed hard on solid ice, the impact knocking the wind from him. Pain lanced through his ribs, but he forced himself to rise. The cavern here was massive, impossibly wide, with walls lost in shadows above and below. A faint green glow pulsed from deeper within, the source of the presence he had felt during his fall. It called to him, a voice without words, ancient and hungry.
Cled moved cautiously, stepping over jagged ice formations. Each footfall echoed ominously, bouncing off the cavern walls in irregular patterns. Shadows flitted along the edges of his vision, teasing him, testing him, but never striking—yet. The mountain was alive, and it was aware of him.
A sudden tremor ran through the ice beneath his feet. He stumbled, catching himself on a frost-covered stalagmite. The green glow intensified, coalescing into shapes that were both terrifying and majestic. Towers of ice twisted into forms resembling monstrous guardians, each more massive than any creature he had seen above. Their eyes glowed like molten jade, following his every movement.
Cled's heart pounded. He knew instinctively that he was being tested—not just for strength, but for courage, for will, for his ability to survive the abyss itself. His mind raced through every lesson from his training, every story of the Cracked Sky his father had whispered. He had survived this far, but the true challenge was yet to come.
Then the air shifted. A cold wind swept the cavern, and from the far end, a massive form began to rise. Its shape was colossal, dwarfing the icy guardians. Its eyes blazed green, twin orbs of fire and malice, and as it moved forward, the shadows parted in deference—or fear.
Cled's breath caught. The presence beneath the frost had awakened fully. The cavern seemed to shrink around him, the walls echoing with the sound of grinding ice and distant roars. He gripped his dagger, feeling the Sky energy surge to meet the threat. The air around him shimmered with golden light, clashing with the pulsing green aura of the monstrous figure.
The creature spoke—or perhaps its voice was the mountain itself. "You have come, child of the Cracked Sky. You tread where none survive. Are you ready to face the truth beneath the frost?"
Cled didn't answer. He couldn't. Every instinct screamed that fleeing was impossible. Every muscle tensed, every nerve alight with fear and determination. He raised his dagger, light flaring around him, and prepared for the battle that would define everything.
The monster advanced. Each step made the ice quake. Shadows surged around Cled, forming jagged barriers, launching attacks with deadly precision. He struck, dodged, and weaved through a storm of claws, frost, and malice, the cavern alive with chaos. Each movement was calculated, each strike precise, yet the creature seemed untouchable.
Then, without warning, the floor beneath him cracked violently. A fissure opened wide, pulling at the shadows and even some of the ice guardians. Cled leapt to the edge, barely catching a protruding rock. Below, the abyss seemed infinite, a swirling void of green fire and frost. The creature roared, a sound that shook him to his core, and lunged.
Cled felt himself losing balance. He scrambled, clinging to the icy ledge as the creature's claw swiped mere inches from him, slicing into the stone. Sparks of Sky energy met green fire, illuminating the abyss in an otherworldly glow.
He knew then: he could not fight it here. Survival meant descending further, into the very heart of the mountain. And somewhere deep below, beyond the reach of light, beyond the grasp of even the Frost Shadows, lay the secret that had been calling to him all along.
Cled took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage and Sky energy within him. With a final push, he released his grip and plunged into the darkness once more, the abyss swallowing him entirely.
As he fell, a pair of glowing green eyes fixed on him from below—eyes that were larger, older, and infinitely more terrifying than any he had seen. The abyss roared in approval, anticipation, and hunger. The descent had only begun, and Cled realized with icy certainty: he was no longer simply surviving. He was stepping into the maw of something that could devour not just his body, but his very soul.