Where the Mist Meets the Mountain

Previously

…"Where is this shrine?" I asked, my voice firm, the grief that had clouded my vision slowly receding, replaced by a nascent determination. Lyra’s eyes met mine, a flicker of something that might have been hope. "It lies where the mist is thickest. Where the mountain breathes its deepest secrets. But the path is guarded. Not just by nature, but by a will as old as the stone itself." The will of Elias Thorne. I knew then that my journey was far from over. It had only just begun. The mist outside no longer felt like a shroud of despair, but a veil, hiding a truth I was now compelled to uncover. My father’s truth. My truth. And I would not let Thorne, or anyone else, keep it buried.