[Your very hair is blasphemy to them.]

  [And why would that be?]

  Hooves tread carefully around stone edges, gripping for stability. Hands press firmly on rocky surfaces, eyes set on the mountain peaks ahead.

  [… And why would that be?]

  [I heard you the first time.]

  Strong winds sweep pebbles into their eyes. Braying, the animal slows, earning a pat from the old man mounted on it.

  A sack wiggles loose, a rope away from falling to the ground.

  [It may seem you carry the light within your own strands of hair.]

  [I’m not that special.]

  The old man rubs his nose.

  [How old are you, anyway?]

  [Told you. 22.]

  White locks flow with the wind, blank eyes glinting behind scratched metal spectacles.

  [I really don’t like going through the mountains. It’s windy, dangerous, boring…]

  A long, white coat hangs over his white shirt, marked with various silver details. White leather pants pair with boots of the same color, featuring silver plates resting on the toe box.

  [You look much healthier than I did when I was your age. Privileges of being an acolyte, eh?]

  [I wouldn’t classify myself as devoted.]

  [Then, the white of your clothes is decoration, instead of faith.]

  The animal almost slips, making the old man’s heart jump. The boy tilts his head to the right, gazing at the gray, serrated formations that rest further down the mountains.

  [We’ll turn into mush if we fall here.]

  [I know, goddammit! This stupid donkey will end up killing us!]

  Rocks vibrate as a heavy fog falls over them. With almost the intensity of an earthquake, a humanoid figure emerges, greater in size than the mountains themselves.

  Spiral-like engravings spread throughout, shifting incessantly on his body, made entirely of crumbling, jagged stone.

  The giant places a finger in front. Blocking the way.

  The merchant freezes, terror coursing through his face.

  Silver pierces his skull, crushing it with force.

  Blood spatters to the side, coating it in a deep red.

  The boy slides his foot off the dead man’s skull before getting off the animal.

  He throws the corpse off the cliff before smearing blood on his hand.

  It travels to the giant’s finger. Dark stone absorbs the crimson fluid before the creature retreats, merging with the mountains.

  Blood clings to his clothes, though he pays no mind, advancing through.

  At one point, the path cuts off, leading to nothing but bare gray wilderness. The summit rests above, still, even through the sweeping winds.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  [Snow coated the peaks last winter.]

  [Though gray is all that remains now.]

  [As Anesh predicted.]

  A figure appears at the peak, unrecognizable. Its eyes glare intensely, lighting the area around. Its voice remains perfectly neutral, reminiscent of soft chiming under the breeze.

  [We are glad you’ve come here. Much needed to be discussed.]

  The boy blinks once, opening his eyes to a vast, dimly lit room. The smell of rot invades his nostrils, dust accumulating on his skin.

  Dozens of people kneel, backs hunched towards something.

  A ring, made from the rusting of some deeply dark metal.

  A serpent, both enormous in size and pale in color.

  Its meaty form hangs tangled around it, throbbing all through the sleek scales. Its tail stays shackled within its mouth, a black liquid spilling between its teeth.

  Midway through its body, the flesh ruptures. Muscle and sinew unravel, lacing around snapped vertebrae until the wound sews itself shut near the head.

  Agony.

  [Brunhild.]

  The boy tilts his head left at the sudden presence.

  Long hair brushes the floor, dark enough to repel light. Sewn fingers clasp together, bright brown eyes searching for something in his expression.

  A woman of unrecognizable age.

  [Anesh has been waiting.]

  [For a single person to play a part in your plan.]

  [Anesh believes in Brunhild. As much as Anesh believes in creation.]

  Prayers finish, with the faithful standing perfectly still, as if waiting for something.

  Sobs echo through as nothing changes.

  [It’s time that Anesh called upon it. To reshape this world, blinded by light and obstructed by knowledge, into the purest form of what it was once.]

  [Couldn’t tell you what my part is. Or why I should care. I don’t even know Anesh, whoever it is.]

  [Because Anesh knows.]

  A knowing smile, quickly repelled.

  [There’s just one thing the Pale Serpent wants. And that is, to choose evil.]

  [You mean, that creature?]

  [I mean you, Brunhild. ]

  Black liquid floats upwards towards the mending serpent.

  Nearly cured, it bursts again, biting harder as more blood spills out.

  [I thought you were neutral.]

  [Anesh tried to.]

  She unclasps her hands.

  [But soon, Anesh found out.]

  [Anesh needs someone like you to catch its attention.]

  Chuckling, she signals something.

  The sobbing figures approach the serpent.

  Taking a bite of its putrid flesh.

  The creature throbs, eating more of its tail.

  They continue to feast on the creature.

  Until its tail pierces its skull.

  Then, they leave, with the snake turning back to its original state.

  [What’s the situation with the Order?]

  The boy adjusts his spectacles.

  [Already traveling north. Probably to seek help from someone stronger.]

  [Someone stronger?]

  [Just like you’ve reached for my help, they’ll reach for someone else’s.]

  [Will you help Anesh then, Pale Serpent?]

  Tapping his foot, he ponders for a while.

  [Not at all. Though all I know is the Order can’t win.]

  The woman frowns at his response before tapping his shoulder.

  [Come with me.]

  She stretches a hand towards him. Brunhild takes it.

  A dark corridor. Black stone bricks, stretching far.

  His gaze shoots upwards as a drop falls on his nose.

  [Step aside.]

  Doing so, he scans the room.

  Bodies hang from steel shackles wrapped around their legs. With a sickly, reddish color, their muscles twitch softly.

  Guts hang open, half-way dry from prolonged contact with air.

  Buckets line each, with a shiny liquid dripping down.

  From their eyes.

  [Anesh has tried its best to please evil.]

  [Evil is not some mystical thing you please or seek.]

  Brunhild approaches a hanging man, poking his cheek.

  [You choose it. Decide it.]

  [And all the while, you accept the consequences.]

  His hand travels to the man’s neck, fingers wrapping around it.

  The woman bares her teeth.

  [Do not harm them.]

  He brushes something off his hand, letting it hang on his side.

  [These people have achieved the state of purity Anesh seeks.]

  [Eternal existence, filled with nothing but the one, pure feeling.]

  [Pain.]

  Brunhild watches as the woman sinks to the ground, sauntering over to one of the hanging bodies before kissing their hands.

  [Anesh needs your help, Pale Serpent.]

  [Anesh predicted our victory.]

  [And you’re the missing piece.]

  The boy clasps his hands behind his back.

  [Figure it out yourselves.]

  [Very well. It was nice having you here, Brunhild.]

  Blinking, he finds himself in the middle of a city street.

  Swords point at him from behind.

  Brunhild turns slowly. His white eyes meet heavy armor.

  [How did you appear here? State your name, and the reason for your clothes to be stained with blood.]

  [Brunhild. I’m Brunhild.]

  He says, half-smiling.

  [I killed a man not too long ago.]