Three long days had passed, each one blending into the next as Silas journeyed toward his destination. The landscape shifted from the dense forests and open plains of the lowlands to the towering, jagged peaks of the snow-covered mountains. The air grew colder with each step, biting at his skin, but Silas felt nothing beyond the single-minded determination that drove him forward. The path was unforgiving, the terrain steep and treacherous, yet he moved with unwavering confidence, as if the mountains themselves parted before him.
At last, he stood at the edge of a cliff, the world sprawling out before him in all its frozen majesty. The snow-topped mountains stretched endlessly across the horizon, their peaks disappearing into the sky. The wind howled through the valleys, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the crisp, cold bite of high altitude. His breath, visible in the icy air, escaped in slow, measured puffs as he took in the scene.
"This should be the place," Silas murmured to himself, his voice a low rumble that was almost lost beneath the roar of the wind. A rare hint of excitement played across his features, a subtle gleam in his eyes betraying the thrill of the unknown that lay ahead.
For a moment, he stood perfectly still at the cliff's edge, the vastness of the mountains stretching out before him. The sky was a bleak, clouded canvas, painted in shades of gray and white, the sun barely piercing through the thick cover, casting the world in a cold, silvery light. Below him, nestled within the folds of the mountains, countless ridges and valleys sprawled out like an untamed wilderness. Deep within these lands, somewhere hidden from sight, was his quarry.
Silas's heart quickened slightly, though his outward demeanor remained composed. He allowed his eyes to scan the distant mountains carefully, searching for any sign of life—any trace of the creatures he sought. Snow covered much of the landscape, but the jagged rocks and hidden crevices betrayed a ruggedness that couldn't be hidden by winter's touch. Somewhere within these peaks and valleys, there were caves—deep, ancient lairs where dragons made their homes.
He had heard the tales. The local rumors of great beasts, draped in scales like armor, with fire that could melt stone and claws that could rend flesh from bone. But it wasn't fear that stirred in his chest. It was the challenge. The sheer magnitude of power that lay ahead.
Silas took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs. His eyes narrowed as he considered his next move. He could feel the energy of the mountains, as though the land itself was alive, ancient and untamed. It was a feeling he had grown accustomed to over the years—a deep connection to the elements, the pulse of the world around him. These mountains were old, older than the kingdoms he had passed through, and they held secrets buried deep beneath the snow and stone.
His mind wandered for a brief moment, recalling the words of the void creature that had reported the location of the dragon's nest to him. "North of this city, about a day's travel away. In the mountains, there exist caves where a number of dragons live."
The creature's voice had been distant and hollow, devoid of any emotion. But Silas had sensed the fear, the awe that even a creature of the void had felt when speaking of the dragons. It only fueled his desire. If the void itself recognized the might of these beasts, then surely they were worth his attention.
"This is it," he repeated softly to himself, his voice carried away by the wind. His grin widened slightly as his fingers flexed at his sides, itching for the inevitable clash. He could feel it now—something stirring deep within the mountains, something ancient and powerful.
The dragons were close.