Early, with the first hours of dawn, they continued their journey with Anthos leading the way. They began to veer slightly eastward, drawing even closer to the mountains. The terrain started to rise, and the vegetation gradually disappeared. Downhill, they could see the entire valley covered in a thick mist and, in the distance, bathed in the golden light of the morning sun, stood the vast Misty Forest.

  A few hours passed until they finally reached a space formed between two enormous rock masses, which seemed to rise like colossal walls, gradually becoming the great mountains of the range known as Ramei. The valley and its trees were now far behind. From this point on, they would begin to enter the mountains, though without a steep climb just yet. As they walked, the two great walls closed in on either side, casting the surroundings into inevitable darkness, in that immense corridor that was now beginning to be covered with snow at every step they took.

  Anthos was aware that once they finished crossing the canyon, the animals would have to start the journey back. He was confident that Blackmane would be able to find the way home without problems, as the knight had trained him very well. He could not say the same for Galfrido’s horse.

  “Kalen,” said Anthos, stopping for a moment in the growing darkness of the place. “Tomorrow we’ll have to set the animals free. They won’t be able to follow the path we’re taking. Once we cross the canyon, the trail will begin to climb the mountain and will at times narrow even further. Then we’ll have to cross a wooden bridge, doing so with as little weight as possible.”

  “What a route!” The irony in Galfrido′s words was evident.

  “It’s that or freeze to death on the official passes. I never said it would be easy. Who in their right mind tries to cross the mountains in winter?”

  “All right, my friend, don’t take it the wrong way. Let’s move on a bit more and find a quiet place to spend the night before the afternoon fades. We’ll be calmer and able to prepare everything for tomorrow.”

  “Especially the ropes… and something to hold the baby. It’s going to be a rough journey, at least in two stretches…”

  Kalen nodded but said nothing. Deep down, he began to doubt the route Anthos had chosen. But there was no turning back now. He had no choice but to trust the guide’s judgment. What bothered him most was having to part from his companion, Blackmane. He had no doubt the horse would find his way home, but ever since they had joined as knight and steed, they had rarely been apart for so long. Though he didn’t say it aloud, he was going to miss him. Even so, he shook off the thought and began to prepare for the next day. It was clear they would not have an easy crossing. There was a reason the patrols had never discovered the smugglers’ routes.

  He glanced back at Drako, still hidden beneath Begryn’s cloak. By now, he considered it unnecessary to conceal the boy’s true nature from their guide, but if Begryn felt more comfortable that way, he accepted it. The less he knew, the better.

  By evening, they found a small shelter among some rocks, forming a kind of cave. By then, snow covered almost the entire ground—now just a thin layer, spreading wider as they climbed.

  Hundreds of kilometers away, the orange sun struck full against the windows at the very top of the wizard’s tower in Skycold Castle, Trabarioth. The rays filtered through and hit two prisms hanging from a beam in the ceiling, flooding the circular chamber with a multitude of rainbows. A green snake with red eyes and a black mark on its head slithered across the floor, climbing onto the desk and flicking its tongue in a steady, rhythmic motion, accompanied by a faint hiss.

  Suddenly, it turned its head at the sound of a few taps on the window. Narrowing its gaze, it saw the silhouette of a rather scruffy pigeon with a message tied to one leg. The snake began to tremble, closing its eyes, and its long, slender body started to shrink and broaden, strands of gray hair sprouting along its form. The reptile transformed into a small, plump rat. It darted off at full speed across the room, slipping under the door—though for a few seconds the rat got stuck due to its fatness.

  At last, it found its target: an elf with long white hair, sky-blue eyes, and a crimson robe. He was seated in an armchair, reading a book with an orange cover. The rat quickly scurried up his robe and settled on top of the book, interrupting his reading to draw his attention.

  “What is it, Polymorph?” said the elf with an annoyed expression. “Didn’t I feed you just a few minutes ago?”

  The rat now writhed in his lap, letting out small but constant squeaks.

  “You want me to follow you? Is that it?”

  At that moment, the rat leapt to the floor and began moving toward the room where the pigeon was. The elf decided to follow the creature, walking unhurriedly, but not before leaving the book on the armchair. When he crossed the doorway, he heard the tapping and saw the pigeon against the glass.

  “By Mistilanya…” he muttered, opening the window and taking the feathered animal in his hands. “Polymorph, don’t eat it,” he scolded preemptively, pointing a finger at the little rat, who was licking its lips but obeying its master.

  The elf began to read the note and, when he finished, he couldn’t remove the astonished expression from his face. In fact, he had to take a seat and read it again. It was written in code, making reference to different adventures he had experienced years ago with a group of adventurers. No one who happened to find that letter could have detected the real message—except someone who had been in the situations it described. The signature at the end consisted of just two letters: K. L.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Polymorph,” he finally said. “Go find Kisenthea. If she’s not in that inner cloister of the castle, she’ll be in the districts of the citadel. It’s urgent. And don’t let anyone notice you! The last thing I need right now is that Dromak pestering me because they saw a leopard crossing the royal gardens.”

  The creature called Polymorph twisted once again and turned into a small sparrow. Almost instantly, it flew out the door in search of the wizard’s apprentice.

  “My friend Kalen…” the elf murmured to himself as he stood and gazed out the window. The vast city, bathed in the light of sunset, stretched beneath him, and beyond it, the snowy fields. “Once again, our paths cross.”

  Though it had not yet begun to snow, the morning had greeted them with a strong blizzard and a sky covered in leaden clouds. Within a few hours, they emerged from that mountainous corridor, and the terrain opened up to their right, revealing a snow-covered valley between the massifs, while the wall remained to their left. The dampness seeping into their boots as they stepped through the snow, combined with the friction of walking, began to foretell the number of blisters they would have—despite the calluses earned from a lifetime of adventures.

  After a few minutes, they had to bid farewell to the animals, taking the saddlebags and carrying all they could on their shoulders. With great sorrow, the paladin whispered a few words into his mount’s ear, as if giving him some instruction, patted his flank, and Blackmane galloped away. Anthos carried the ropes, while Galfrido bore the two saddlebags on his back. Kalen had slung a burlap sack of legumes over his shoulder, and the only one unburdened was Begryn—though she was in charge of carrying the baby.

  “What’s the pass like?” Kalen asked, walking alongside Anthos.

  “It’s an internal pass. We’ll be crossing the Ramei Mountains largely from the inside. It’s an old conduit the dwarves of Minas Mangur once used for trade with the outside world. Eventually, they stopped using it, and it became the main route for smugglers coming from the sea in Doknar into Trabarioth.”

  “That’s what worries me… those smugglers.” Anthos nodded in agreement. He knew Kalen’s concern was reasonable. “How long will we be in the jaws of the mountains?”

  “No more than one or two days. There are several tunnels with twists and turns, but the actual path is well marked. It won’t be a problem.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I hope it is a problem!” Galfrido shouted from behind. “I’m getting rusty.”

  “You were born rusty,” Begryn remarked with a smile. It was the first time Anthos had heard the elf make a joke.

  “Look…” The guide stopped and pointed toward the horizon.

  A few kilometers ahead, the mountains split in two, giving way to a vast, colossal pass dotted with small peaks within. Though there was no actual road, the very shape of the increasingly rugged terrain seemed to lead them straight toward it. The pass was far snowier than the surrounding area, but it seemed to present no real difficulty. Even though Anthos had seen it a few times before, every time he reached this point, he was left awestruck by the majesty of the view.

  “Is that our pass?” Kalen asked in disbelief.

  “It’s known as the Dwarven King’s Canyon. We must cross through there… but the pass itself is farther ahead, on the other side.”

  “I’ve heard the story of this place,” Galfrido added, enthralled by the scenery. “It was here that the Battle of Iron took place, where King Mangur’s dwarven legionnaires defeated the mountain orc army, driving the few survivors into Trabarioth… they say it was a true massacre. That’s why it’s called the Dwarven King’s Canyon. After that, they founded Minas Mangur… or was it before?”

  “Before,” Anthos replied. “The city had been founded at least forty years before the battle. The orcs who fled to Trabarioth settled in the southern part of this region, founding the cities of Proco and Burlón. For some reason, the kings of the Frozen City allowed them to settle there. The passing of years and generations has done much to shape the nature of these green-skins, who have adapted to the region and its rules, becoming a generally peaceful race in Dorlan. That’s more than can be said for many humans.”

  The terrain rose gradually, but at one point, the climb became steep. They began to use their hands to pull themselves up, gripping the cold rocks that jutted out from the white snow like small moles on a pale surface. The wind began to blow harder, and more than once Galfrido had to help Begryn, who was carrying Drako in her arms. The snowstorm struck with greater force and, at a certain point, began to blind their vision, preventing them from seeing more than a few meters ahead.

  “We’d better tie ourselves together now!” Anthos shouted, grabbing the rope and handing one end to Kalen.

  The travelers obeyed their guide’s advice. Despite having their faces covered with hoods and scarves, the cold seeped deep into their bones. The elf held the baby tightly, stroking him to give him warmth. Paradoxically, it was Drako who warmed Begryn, as his skin seemed to burn with heat at all times.

  “Who the hell decides to cross into Trabarioth with winter closing in?!” Anthos shouted, shaking his head at the difficulty of the path.

  “Think of your three hundred gold crowns!” Kalen shouted back.

  “The only thing I can think about right now is not letting my balls freeze, because if we keep going like this, that’s exactly what’s going to happen!”

  Despite the difficulty and the feeling that they weren’t making any progress, Kalen’s mind was on his loyal steed, Blackmane. He did not doubt the horse’s ability to return to Doknar, but even so, his worry kept growing. What if the storm had caught him? What if he was now trying to move forward blindly through mountainous terrain, which could easily be a death trap?

  He pushed those thoughts aside, remembering that the storm had reached them while they were climbing the terrain, a few hours after parting ways with his horse. By now, the intelligent beast should already be entering the valley. Perhaps it would get caught in a bit of rain, but nothing more.

  “We can’t keep going much longer!” Begryn shouted from the back. “Drako is starting to get cold!”

  “Damn it! Anthos, find shelter!”

  Although it was barely past midday, the snowstorm was making it impossible for them to continue. If they didn’t find shelter soon, it would all be over.

  Anthos knew they had to cross a canyon via a wooden bridge. On the other side, the terrain opens into a series of caves they could use as shelter.

  “We can only keep moving!” he shouted, looking at Kalen ‘Fal, who nodded in response.