Chapter 1: Keep Moving Forward
The mountain claims another soul.
Flickering stars slowly began to wink out of existence. Every cosmic dot dimmed under the growing light of a new day. Twilight hovered overhead. It cast a golden glow over the world. The darkened hues of the sunless night were burning away.
Basking in the warmth of this new morning, Mount Ebott stood firm. Onlookers of the mountain might find themselves breathless at the sight of this solitary peak, haloed as it was by the coming day's gentle light. But they also knew better than to let themselves become enraptured by a place drenched in foreboding lore. Anyone who came close to the mountain could not do so without hearing of the legends.
Mount Ebott. It called out to everyone. It invited anyone. It spared no one.
That mountain was a haunted place.
The legends warn that those who climb the mountain never return. Children who wandered into the dense forests would never come back. They became just another unfortunate soul who failed to heed the warnings of their parents.
Everyone. Everyone knew there was no coming back from the mountain.
Yet, Mount Ebott stood stubbornly against the slander. It continued to beckon onlookers. I am here, it shouted. I have what you seek, it wailed. Come to me.
And she did.
There was no warmth to be found on Ebott's forested floor. The tree's branches seemed woven together. They unfurled only to encourage the young woman forward, drawing her ever-deeper into the mountainside. No going back. Not for her. Not yet. Not when the trees threaded their limbs together behind every footfall, quicker than they unstitched themselves for the narrow path they presented ahead of her.
She struggled through the eager branches that swiped at her face, shoving them aside. Sodden bangs clamped to her forehead. Her neck was plastered in thick, brown tendrils soaked by her own sweat.
Pausing. Panting. Macie swiped at the mop of untamed hair, tugging the mass of it into a sturdy elastic band. Her cheeks were flushed with exhaustion.
She'd started this trek before the sun had risen. Long before its lights had peaked over the horizon. Long, long before the world provided enough light to read the "No Trespassing" signs posted regularly and in excess along the mountain's base.
The wind stirred the more spindly trees around her. Old wood creaked unhappily. Keep moving, woman. It seemed to say.
Macie only sighed. She raised clammy hands to chapped lips and took in a deep breath.
"FRISK!"
The call went unanswered by any human voice. Instead she heard the wooded area groan once more, longer this time. Wind curled through the detritus around her worn boots, whirling up her legs and whipping at the tail of banded hair hanging heavy and damp against her back.
Macie gripped the fraying bill of her faded orange cap, tugging it further down on her head. She shivered against the cooling breeze, it's chill more than unwelcome. Macie moved to stuff the hem of her worn sweatshirt into the waistband of slim-fitting joggers. She tugged at the ancient drawstrings to cinch the light colored fabrics tightly against her hips. Pulling cotton-colored sleeves over her hands and sealing the open holes in her balled fists, Macie hoped these small changes would better protect her against the chilled air.
She urged the sun to rise faster in an unspoken prayer. Any warmth would be welcome against the brisk morning breeze that seemed adamant on accompanying her all throughout the mountain.
It danced around her, that wind. Ignorant of her desire to see it still, the breeze fluttered with delight.
Resigned to this newfound companion, Macie continued her trek.
Eager branches continued to reach for her. Swiping at her cheeks. Clawing at her legs. Grasping at the faded cap nestled between her ears.
The paths she traveled were devoid of human activity. Free of any evidence that might point her in the direction of a wayward child.
The mountain gave away nothing.
Macie had felt so certain that this was where Frisk would be. Where they disappeared to. She did not, would not, confess to knowing where such inclinations had come from. But it was also the only place people never looked, this mountain. And she had felt so certain. Now she just felt cold. And a little bit miserable.
I have what you seek. It beckoned her.
Lies. She thought, this place is all lies.
Tiny beams of pink speared through the upper-foliage, spotlighting an irregular pattern on the earth below. Warm dots touched on Macie's figure. She followed their irregular path, grateful for the droplets of heat. Indigo eyes beneath dark lashes scanned the world around her. Macie didn't see anything unusual. Just trees. Leaves. Dirt. Rocks. Trudging on, Macie only found more of the same.
She decided that the most unusual thing in this forest was her: Faded orange ball-cap. Once-white activewear. Her clothes were an absolutely terrible choice for hiding the natural muck that sporadically peppered any mountain-trekker. But at least, at least she thought, it would be easy to see among all the dark greens and browns worn by mother nature. A pale ghost ambling through the brush. A pale ghost in a dirty, orange hat.
Maybe Frisk would be the one to spot her.
Macie paused again. She cupped her hands to her mouth and called, "FRISK?" Her voice was louder now, a little more desperate than before. Worrisome thoughts curled in the pit of her stomach, settling heavily, growing slowly. What if they're not even here?
The wind came again with a rallying cry, tousling the lighter debris against her legs.
She kicked the earthy rubbish away. Brushed at the loose leaves clinging to her clothing. Her brother had often poked fun at her choice in hiking apparel. The memories made her smile. They filled her with a resolve to keep moving forward. Always moving forward.
Macie readjusted the brilliant-white sweatshirt over her torso, pulling it down over a pair of equally white stretch pants. She grinned at her brother.
"Check me out!" Macie raised her arms, wiggling her fingers to emphasize the snowy-white ensemble she wore. "You'll be able to see me from anywhere on the trail."
Her brother tutted, raising a judgemental brow, "Not if we get stuck in a blizzard. Then we. are. scuh-rewed. You'd vanish."
"It shouldn't snow in a swamp." She screeched petulantly. Then she frowned, suddenly worried. "…Right?"
Her brother laughed, "I'm joking." He topped the brown mop on his head with a bright orange ball-cap. "I could probably see you from space in that outfit." He adjusted the hat. "And you should be able to see me in this hat for miles." He flicked a finger at the bill, raising the cap enough so that his indigo eyes peeked out from beneath it. Macie grinned, worries forgotten.
"S'why I bought it! So I can always find you."
Neglecting to acknowledge any grime that Macie's clothes accumulated while hiking, the outfit had worked marvelously. She quite often glowed on the trails she and her brother explored. A pale spirit, pearlescent and glittering, against mother nature's more earthen tones. Her brother's orange-topped-head, bobbing along like a dancing flame beside her.
They never lost sight of each other. Not in those days.
Those old memories warmed her. A snow-storm in a swamp. She chuckled at the thought, her mood lightening. The ever-present, ever-cold breeze laughed with her, echoing soft, youthful giggles. It laughed like a child. She froze.
Wait.
She heard laughter. The wind carried it to her. Maybe that cold breeze was good for something after all.
Macie's widened eye flicked across the wooded area. Her ears strained, forcing themselves to hear over her thundering heart. It was a kid she heard laughing. Was it… her kid?
Her head snapped to the left. Then right.
Where…?
The breeze came again, stronger, this time carrying a stream of garbled words. She knew that voice. She recognized that voice. They were here. Her heart swelled. Here, but where exactly was here...?
Her head snapped toward the sound of small feet, crunching through the fallen leaves around them, pattering away from where she stood. She followed.
"FRISK!" Macie ran, leaping over fallen trunks, ducking under lowered branches, nearly flying towards the disappearing footfall. The wind came at her from every direction, twisted around her, tugged at her clothes, pulling her forward. Toward Frisk. It had to be them.
Over the crunch of her own steps on the decaying forest floor, another bout of laughter bumped against her eardrums. Her mouth flew open: "FRISK!"
Darting after playful giggles, hoping to find them before they got too far away, Macie felt the forested area closing around her. The faster she ran, the darker the shadows seemed to grow. Branches tore at her eagerly now that she no longer made the effort to push them away. She was too busy moving towards her goal. She glowed, a beacon of hope, amongst the dark green foliage.
The wind trailed after her.
"FR- guh... - ISK!," she wheezed, lungs starting to protest against the wild race towards oblivion. Her legs began to burn. That cold breeze continued to push at her back. Determined to keep her moving forward.
But the laughter had stopped. She could no longer hear it. Nor could she hear the sound of little steps running on the ground. Dread, panic filled her. The world became strangely silent. No creaking trees. No whispering wind.
Tumultuous thoughts pounded against her brain, wary confusion growing with every breath she took.
Keep moving. Find them before they get away. Before they totally vanished. But why were they running away? What were they trying to leave behind?
She kept moving. One foot planting in the earth at a time. Soft foliage gave way to unyielding stone. Vines blanketed the hard surface under her steps. She stumbled through them as they twisted around her ankles. Keep moving.
She tugged her feet free from their grasp, undeterred. Another foot down.
And down it continued.
Another step of hard earth did not greet her.
It ripped away and left her floating just for a moment. When her gaze moved down, she saw the gaping maw of an infinitely dark void. Her hands grappled for anything, anything to take hold of.
The chilling breeze came back now. It flew up from that great hole in the earth, suspending her above certain doom. It curled around her, that wind. It wrapped around her entire being. And then it dragged her down. Down into that damnable cave that appeared out of nowhere.
Macie wanted to scream, but her voice was ripped away by the wind.
That mountain was a haunted place.
The legends warn that those who climb the mountain never return. Children who wandered into the dense forests would never come back. Adults, so desperate to find those children they lost, too desperate to heed the many signs warning them away, would join the disappeared.
Come to me. Ebott commands, standing tall against the horizon. I have what you seek.
And to those who come, to those who fall, to those who will never return, the mountain whispers:
It is nice to meet you. Goodbye.