46. Shattered Ice
Eryndor staggered to his feet, breathing heavily. He sheathed his blade and approached the core of the beast he had just slain; it pulsed faintly. He reached out his hand, feeling its warmth despite the cold surrounding him.
"Guess I can do it alone after all," he muttered, pocketing the core. Happy that all his time training had paid off, he could not stop to think what would have happened had he relented in his own personal training. Now that was a dreary thought.
The mountain was silent once more, save for the whispers of the wind. Eryndor turned his gaze upward, the peak looming in the distance. His journey wasn't over, but for the moment, he let himself feel a flicker of hope and immediately regretted it.
