The amber sky slowly faded as sunset approached, shrouding the highland of Glaswold in dim light. The waning light bode ill for the siblings, as the younger sibling was yet to wake, forcing the older sibling to haul her; thus, slowing their pace.

  The older sibling wanted to find shelter before the night's darkness—and the creatures it beckoned—made the passage impassable. But her pace was far from satisfactory as she dragged her sister behind her on an impromptu sleigh that she had fashioned out of two of the six blankets, strings, and some branches.

  The older sibling, wary of the enslavers returning to search for them, had chosen to march through the woods—sacrificing pace for safety. Though the trade-off might endanger their lives nonetheless.

  That bastard said, 'squeak will wake up in two days—well, it has been two days! Why's she still unconscious? the older sibling grumbled.

  She tried to move quicker, but the uphill nature of the highland posed a tough challenge. Her mind was constantly on edge by the incessant chirping of insects and the occasional hooting of owls—which awoke as the day retreated. She also remained watchful for any beasts, or monsters—like the giant mole—lurking around.

  More than anything else, it was her utter lack of knowledge about the terrain and its beings that truly unsettled her.

  The older sibling may not have been walking in the dark, at least yet, but she was in the dark as to where to go.

  Cinderglaze, sinister as it was, still offered a semblance of comfort to those venturing in it. In contrast, the Silent Heights overtly manifested its unwelcoming nature. As one journeyed further inside, the inhospitable climate only buttressed its desolate and rocky terrain.

  The older sibling felt something; she felt alone. For the first time in her life, she was truly alone. With no one to support her, to laugh with her, or even to witness her efforts—she felt empty. In her time of loneliness, the older sibling thought of her time with the enslaved children.

  Some time that was.

  Her agitated face gave way to a faint smile as her eyes glinted with amusement and her lips curled into a smile.

  After all, it was in times of crises that memories of the good times shone ever more brilliantly. Without a spark, they ignited a person and kept them on their feet in hopes of a new, bright future.

  The older sibling's time with the children though not particularly happy, it was certainly a pleasant one.

  A few hours passed, the older sibling had reached the forest's end. In front of her the road seemed to disappear ahead—or rather, slant downward into a long slope. A few kilometers ahead of the sloping road, a vast settlement nestled on the lowlands of Glaswold.

  Innumerable plumes of smoke billowed from the chimneys of the settlements, while glowing lanterns streaked across the dim expanse, painted the area in bright dots of orange light. The surrounding darkness only made their glow seem more radiant.

  Bleakmoor Hearth. The older sibling inferred.

  She let out a sigh of relief: "At last, a slope. Crossing it should be a breeze."

  She was elated at the prospect of descending the highlands, not the least because it also promised the possibility of a shelter. But her hopes were short-lived. Four flickers of light appeared on the road below. Narrowing her eyes, she realized they belonged to four approaching horsemen.

  Enslavers?

  The older sibling was not certain of their identity, but her assumption was fairly accurate and grounded in logic. She quickly glanced around. Behind her lay the road and the forest, soon to become the primary searching ground. And to her left loomed a deep, gaping fall.

  Her other option was to move down the sloping road, hopefully before the riders did, and find somewhere to hide, if such a place even existed. The older sibling was not confident she could, not with her sister in tow.

  That left her with only one option: to ascend the mountain to her right. It was a peculiar mountain, sprawling parallel to the Bleakmoor Hearth, while other summits ran perpendicular to it. The mountain was positioned very close to the road, with one end jutting a few meters below the plateau the siblings were on.

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  The older sibling set her sister down and carefully slid the sleigh onto the mountain's ledge below. Then, clutching her sister, she jumped over as well. Ahead, the rocky outcrop curved into a narrow passage that climbed upward before merging with the terrain above.

  She placed her sister back on the sleigh and, straining her body, pressed onward. By the time she crossed half of the passage, even the low light of sunset had disappeared, replaced by the deep navy blue sky of twilight. Only a thin reddish line lingered above the horizon—a fading vestige of the day's vibrant hue.

  Echoes of heavy footsteps resounded through the mountains, making her flinch in panic. She immediately dropped to a prone position and silently scanned the road below.

  Three horse riders emerged up the sloping road, sprinting across it, followed by a fourth who trailed behind them.

  The older sibling could not positively identify the first three riders, but the fourth's big, sturdy build stood out even with the poor lighting.

  That bastard, Darrow.

  Once the horse riders vanished behind the woods, she raised herself and continued to navigate the passage.

  Soon, the rocky path gave way to a covering of snow, which before long swallowed her legs several inches deep. The snow offered negligible friction to walk, but it also allowed the older sibling to pull the sleigh along with ease—bringing her some much-needed relief.

  She had crossed the narrow passage, and the ground ahead was more plain than she had feared, which brought her a rare moment of relief.

  However, she faced one issue: there was no shelter in sight. For as far as her eyes could see, there was not a single cave, tree, or even a rock—only white snow blanketed the hillscape.

  The older sibling was left dumbstruck at the sight. A frosty wind drifted past her as if to mock her lamentable situation, but drawing no response from her, it passed away.

  She kneeled and let out a long stifled scream filled with curses—then covering her face with a palm, she laughed as if she had accepted her accursed fate.

  "Mhmm..." Her sister made low painful moans, prompting the older sibling to rush to her.

  "Pipsqueak, are you alright? C'mon wake up—don't fall asleep... please," she pleaded to her sister, but the younger sibling, unresponsive to her pleas again slipped back into slumber.

  The older sibling removed specks of snow from her sister's face. She brushed the younger sister's hair aside, and whispered, "Don't worry, 'squeak, you rest well. Your sister's got it." Then kissed her forehead.

  Rising with newfound vigor, she shed some of her clothes to cover her sister. She stretched her body and took long, deep breaths, then picked up the sleigh's rope and began striding forward.

  By now, the night had enveloped the sky, making the already vague landscape appear murkier still. And aggravating the siblings' woes, the night sky today was bereft of the moon's grace—there rose no serene, white disc to replace the blazing, red disc.

  However, even if there was no lunar radiance to brighten the sky, stars themselves had gathered to illuminate the older sibling's path.

  Under the guiding light of the celestial bodies, she charted her course. Her legs began to sink knee-deep beneath the snow, yet she braved the vast snow field, and gazed ahead—no rocks, no trees and only snow everywhere; the view remained unchanged.

  However, near a spot where the mountain rose to greater heights, she noticed darkness. It was neither a shadow, nor a mountain protrusion, but an opaque, mobile darkness as if it was hollow inside.

  Hollow inside—a cave!

  She briskly stepped forward. As she moved upward, her lungs were assaulted by the cold air. Clouds shrouded the starlit sky, veiling her path in their shade.

  Still, undeterred, the older sibling fixed her eyes on her goal; mere darkness—or snowfall that soon followed afterward—were not enough to impede her.

  She soon reached the cave. It was not very big, but enough for two or perhaps three people. As soon as she entered the cave, the snowfall outside intensified—transforming into a raging blizzard.

  Looks like we're stuck here for a while.

  Suddenly, several high-pitched howls reverberated from somewhere outside, spooking her. She was uncertain if this cave had an owner, but if push came to shove, she would rather try her luck here than out in the storm.

  Taking her sister along with a blanket out of the sleigh, the older sibling placed one of the two blankets on the cave's entrance. She tied the blanket's ends with the strings to insulate themselves from the tempest outside.

  She then broke the branches into splinters and piled them. Then using the small blade Sena had given her and a flint stone that Livia earlier handed to her, she made a small fire.

  The flames lit up the dark cave, revealing the older sibling's snow-covered hair, her abraded shoulders from hauling the sleigh, and chapped lips due to the cold and dehydration.

  However, most of the wood was wet, and only a few dry splinters were being used to feed the fire. As such the fire could not be sustained for long.

  The splinters will hold for a few hours. I'll worry about the firewood when I wake up.

  The older sibling was too exhausted, both mentally and physically to concern herself over it right now. For now, she only wanted to sleep, while holding her sister tightly.

  She approached her sister and tucked them both under the blanket. The younger sibling slightly moved and muttered indistinct sounds.

  She's waking up.

  Just then, the blankets fluttered as violent winds entered the cave, this made the older sibling shift her focus.

  She observed the atmosphere obscured in haze while snowballs plummeted from above, accompanied by swift, gusty winds. Amidst the all-pervasive white, she noticed a black shadow forming on the blanket against the bonfire's light.

  Someone's coming!

  The chances of it being an enslaver were very real; the older sibling had to make a choice to either fight or give up. Though in her present conditions, a brawl was unthinkable, but what other options did she have?

  Sena's grim words flashed in her mind: die, but do not get caught.

  The older sibling was not willing to die, nor let her sister suffer any more than she had.

  She gripped Sena's knife firmly and steeled herself for whatever was about to enter.