Fingers Of The Mountain Oblivion Novels & Stories

And there, near the highest point where the cliffs met the sky It pulsed. A faint violet glow, buried in stone. A jagged flower, blooming directly from the mountain’s side. Its glow was anything but faint. It wasn’t like the lotus in the clearing. This was sharper. Wilder. Its petals were obsidian edged in lavender fire. Vines crawled along the rock, glowing faintly, like veins pulsing with ancient blood. I took a step forward, wind parting as I did. The mountain responded, not with movement—but with awareness.

What Wakes Beneath Saxa The mountain doesn’t roar again, it breathes. But somehow that’s worse. The whole valley feels it—that low, impossible inhale rolling up through the snow and stone like the earth itself has suddenly remembered it has lungs. The threads beneath my skin tighten in answer, every glowing line in the clearing pulling downward, not toward the tear in the forest anymore, not toward Kasper, not even toward the creatures standing silently in the snow. My fingers tighten around Elias’ hand hard enough to hurt, but he doesn’t complain. He’s staring at the ridge with that same drawn, hollow look he gets when the system pushes too much into him all at once.

I curled up in a corner as my consciousness gradually began to fade. All of a sudden, it felt as though I was back at that small mountain village again, surrounded by the villagers' twisted, hideous faces. The way they handled me roughly replayed in my mind over and over again. A whimper escaped my lips, but it fell on completely deaf ears. … I had no idea how much time had passed before I was jolted awake by a wave of excruciating pain. I peeled my eyes open and found Owen standing before me with a blood-stained leather whip in his hand.

POV: LIORA The colossal hand gripping the edges of the shattered prison tightened with terrifying strength, sending fractures racing through the ancient stone like lightning splitting the night sky. Every crack released another torrent of crimson mist that swallowed the Heart Chamber in an eerie haze, turning the silver glow of the Moonstone into little more than a distant beacon struggling against an endless tide of darkness. The entire mountain groaned beneath the strain, and the ground trembled so violently that broken pillars collapsed into the abyss surrounding the ancient sanctuary.

"You think the map is right?" Evelyn looked out at the endless mountains. Then, at the roads barely visible between them. "Yeah." "Me too." Neither seemed comforted by the answer. Far below, somewhere beyond sight, an infected shriek echoed through the darkness. A second answered several moments later. Then another. All of them are distant. All of them were moving. North. Always north.

And they would only use the mountains for livestock. ‘What could he possibly be doing there?’ I thought to myself. “Have your spies scouted the mountain?” I asked. James looked at the spies before us. I turned to them and one of them replied, “We tried, Your Highness. But the foot of the mountain had some sort of magical protection. When my colleague,” the spy nudged towards his companion, “When he attempted to stretch his hand beyond the barrier, his hand slowly burnt.” The other spy then raised his hand, which was wrapped tightly with a bandage.

The air grew colder, biting at their skin, as they ventured deeper into the mountainous terrain. Amelia's heart pounded in her chest, a mix of excitement and trepidation. She glanced at her companions, their determination mirrored in their eyes. They were so close, yet the final leg of their journey seemed more daunting than ever. As they climbed higher, the darkness enveloped them, and the moon began to rise. Its pale light cast an eerie glow on the rocky landscape, as if the very moon itself mourned the sorrow within the Tearstone Mountains. Then, as they ascended further, a haunting sound echoed through the caverns. It was a mournful, soul-piercing wail that sent shivers down their spines

Alpha asked, their voice carrying an air of curiosity. Delta, a strong and agile wolf, stepped forward. "We shall divide into smaller groups, each finding a path that leads us safely through these mountains. By regrouping on the other side, we shall conquer this challenge together," Delta suggested, earning nods of agreement from the pack. As they traversed the treacherous mountains, their unity and unwavering spirit were put to the test. They supported each other through steep inclines and treacherous descents, lending a paw to those in need and encouraging one another with reassuring howls that echoed through the peaks.

They swung heavy iron sledges in a rhythmic, deafening cadence, sinking four-ton slabs of solid basalt deep into the mountain’s bedrock. I stood at the edge of the overlook, my heavy fur mantle pinned at the shoulder with the silver crest of the Northern Sovereign. The biting mountain gale whipped my hair across my face, but beneath my wool-lined tunic, my hybrid core remained a silent, unshakeable furnace. The fused gold runes across my right palm pulsed with a faint, ambient warmth—a calm, steady hum that mirrored the locked stability of the mountain foundation below.

"Then I'll start looking from that place." At that moment, within that secret realm, the waning moon had completely sunk into the sea of clouds. Night in the Mistpeak Mountains was so thick it could not be dissolved. Mountain winds carrying cold mist sliced across Carl's barely human-shaped body like icy blades, freezing the congealed blood scabs on him until they turned brittle and fell away at the slightest tremor, exposing fresh, rotting flesh still seeping with blood.