The icy wind was a great hindrance during their travel along the side of the mountain. The high altitude and lack of shelter brought illness to both Dievu and Christill, but they marched on. Sweating and shivering with fever, they could only travel for short parts of the day, having to stop after small distances to rest their burning lungs and aching muscles. Dievu did what he could to relieve the pain using his magic, but proper shelter from the bitter winds sweeping out of Dargon was what they truly needed.
They were assured that they were taking the right path through the mountain when they passed the corpse of one of the Primals on the trail. The harsh conditions had overcome him and he had been left to rot on the side of the mountain by his comrades. They came across more corpses the further that they travelled into the Ranges.
"If it keeps going like this there won't be any left to fight. Nyrune seems to be doing our job for us," said Christill as they sat, huddled in their cloaks against the hard rock of the mountain.
Dievu swallowed painfully though his sore throat and answered. "That is if we ourselves are not consumed by Nyrune's hatred of the Dargonians."
Christill moved closer to his master for warmth, any movement a struggle. He had thought that his near death experience had given him a reason not to fear the end of his life. But he was wrong. There was a reason to fear death, his life now had purpose. He was yet to learn to use magic, or find a love that he could share his life with. Most of all, he longed to see Thibalt once more.
His joints ached with every move and even the simple task of breathing drained away his strength. Each breath full of frosty air burned in his inflamed lungs. Christill's appetite had long disappeared, but he was still forcing mouthfuls of bread and fruit down his dry throat.
Dievu used his magic to heat some ice that he scraped off of the rocks and then made warm tea using some herbs that he had kept in his pack. The tea helped to ease the burning in Christill's chest and ran temporary warmth through his veins.
"We will travel no further this night," muttered Dievu. "The clouds betray the first signs of a storm."
Christill looked up to the sky and saw the grey clouds scattered amongst the stars, waiting to unleash their full force. He desperately hoped it would not rain, not knowing that in mere hours the storm of change was going to begin. As the time passed by, the clouds gathered together and grew in size until the entire sky was covered in a grey mantle.
"Something is not right," Dievu said, his voice betraying his fear. "I have never seen such a gathering of storm clouds."
"Look!" urged Christill, pointing to the west. "It covers the entire world." Dievu's eyes widened as he saw the cover of darkness spreading endlessly into the distance.
"Is this Nyrune's doing?" asked Christill.
"No. I cannot sense Nyrune's influence in these clouds," Dievu replied.
Then it began.
The wind grew in force, until soon Christill and Dievu were both worried they would be thrown from the very side of the mountain by the powerful gales. Then the rain began to fall, showering down in immense proportions. The trail was soon turned into muddy slush and they were forced to climb up the mountain to find what shelter they could underneath a small rocky outcropping.
Thunder roared angrily and lighting coursed through the skies as the storm reached its peak. Never before had the world suffered such a great onslaught of violent weather, and never again would it be the same. Dievu and Christill could do nothing but sit out the storm in the open, constantly pelted by heavy rain and winds.
As the waters of Lake Moonsong stirred, raising the skeletal bridge, a great bolt of lighting struck out from the sky, hitting the mountainside above Christill and Dievu. The rock blasted into pieces that tumbled down the mountain in an avalanche of harsh stone. Acting quickly Dievu jumped out from under the outcropping and began to send bolts of energy at the large falling chunks of rock. His magic worked to break them up into harmless pebbles before they reached their shelter. He worked frantically to destroy all of the pieces heading their way, sending bolt after bolt of green magic out of his hands.
Christill watched Dievu from the outcropping and saw that his eyes were glowing green with power. Finally the last piece that posed a threat to them was blown apart and Dievu ran back to Christill, completely exhausted.
Christill urged him to drink some water. "Master, you must rest. This sickness will take you if you continue to exert yourself like this."
Dievu nodded and closed his eyes to rest. Thunder echoed loudly amongst the mountains as the storm continued its assault. Christill sat quietly, wrapped up as tightly as possible in his cloak, watching the lightning brighten the sky. Then the storm stopped. Christill left the outcropping cautiously and let out a long breath when he realised that it was truly over.
Dievu, who had drifted into sleep, awoke with a scream.
Christill ran over to him, asking, "What's wrong?"
Dievu begun to search the skies frantically, darting his head here and there.
"What are you looking for?"
"Something is wrong. I feel a change in the world," Dievu replied.
"Maybe it is just this cold sickness."
"No, it's not. I do not know what it is that I feel...I must talk with Nyrune." He walked away from Christill and dropped to his knees. Raising his hands to his temples he began to call out to Nyrune. Christill watched silently, not knowing what to expect.
Long moments passed in which nothing happened. Christill kept as quiet as he could, not wishing to interrupt Dievu in his difficult task. He was surprised when Dievu stood up, shaking his head in a confused manner.
"What did the goddess say?" asked Christill anxiously.
Dievu gazed at Christill with a nervous look. "She did not answer my prayers," he replied uneasily. "I'm not sure what this means yet. For now we must keep following the Queen's captors. We have lingered for too long."
Christill hoisted his pack and then handed Dievu his own. He was greatly disturbed by the troubled look on his Master's face. It was a look of resignation, as though all hope was lost, and Christill was not about to believe that they had made it this far to give up. "Come Master, we must hurry."
Dievu's lips curled into a mild smile. He nodded slightly and took the pack from Christill. "Maybe there is hope, Christill, but without Nyrune's guidance we are lost."
"We are not lost," insisted Christill. "You can't lose faith just because Nyrune will not answer your prayers. We still have a duty to Triel and we are not about to let her die because of a minor setback. The storm has stopped, and although, as you say, something is not right, we must move on."
Dievu listened to Christill's words intently . "You are right. Triel needs us more right now. Let us go." Christill and Dievu headed back down to the trail and once more began to step along the muddy ground towards Dargon.
Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One) Page 56
