Alaric and Gilbert trudged through the snow as they began their descent from the Frozen Peaks. The wind howled around them, sending icy gusts that bit into their exposed skin. The stark beauty of the mountain was overshadowed by the weight of their failure, a heavy cloud of despair settling over Alaric's thoughts. The sense of loss was palpable, and with each step, Alaric's mind replayed the image of Lucy, pale and fragile, lying in her bed. He had been so sure that this was the place, that his grandmother would be here, ready to help him save his sister. But now, the future seemed as bleak as the cold, unyielding landscape that surrounded them.