The wind screamed as it blew through the range. It whipped in Zane's face as he struggled waist-deep through a snowdrift.
The blizzard had become a whiteout, so Zane saw nothing but blowing snow ahead of him. He had no idea where he was or where he was going. Everywhere Zane looked, he saw white. He still covered his face as he walked along. He paused to wipe the snow from his face when he felt a slight grating on his skin. He looked down at his arm and saw ice beginning to form. In fact, it was covering almost his entire gi. He sighed and looked out through the desolate landscape.
"I hope I can find shelter soon..." he said to himself.
A hard gust blew, and Zane shivered, trudging blindly for the rest of the day.
...
The sky had begun to darken as the storm continued to rage. Zane had been walking for quite some time when he saw the ground flattened out and then sloped upwards. Through the driving snow, Zane saw a large dark shape. The side of yet another mountain loomed in front of him. He wasn't sure if he would be able to make this next one if he tried. He looked around for some easier way, a downwards slope or a pass, but saw none.
His energy and strength were lower than when he had first gotten into the mountains. If he tried to get over this mountain with his poor condition and inclement weather, he stood a fair chance of becoming seriously injured, or worse.
But he also couldn't wait around to rest and let the storm pass, because the ghosts could be anywhere.
He heard of Bansha's screams through the blowing wind, and Zane decided his best bet was to climb the mountain. He took a deep breath and started for the base
...
Zane could barely make out the two glowing green figures approaching the mountain, but with the green glow, he knew exactly how they were.
Bansha and Ghoultar never seemed to know when to quit, did they?
Zane stood at the bottom and stared up at the top, which was concealed by clouds.
He didn't want to, but he must. Otherwise, he would get captured. There was no other way.
Zane began scrambling up the base of the mountain, trying to shut out the pain of his injury as it screamed in protest. He had no time to waste. This was do or die.
Rocks slipped as Zane's footsteps knocked them from their place. He saw a ledge jutting from the mountain face up ahead. Once he was close enough, he leapt for it. it was covered in ice, Zane almost lost his balance and fell. Frantically, he felt along the cold rock for support and found a crevice in the stone.
As Zane regained his balance, he looked up and saw more ledges.
He looked at the terrain around him. To his left and right were just sheer cliff faces. Down was where the ghosts were. The mountain itself was just inches from Zane's nose. There was only one way out. And that was up.
...
Zane flattened his body as much as possible against the rock as the wind blew across the mountain face.
He had been climbing for hours, exactly how long he couldn't tell. He had lost all sense of time.
His arms burned from gripping the mountain that kept him from plummeting to his death. His hands were numb from the cold and holding on to anything he could find. The wind whipped in his face. His knees were shaking. His wounds throbbed.
He wondered how far he had come and looked down. Below his feet, he saw nothing but mist below him. He looked back up to the path that still lay ahead.
"I should not have done that..." He told himself and climbed on.
Suddenly the wind gusted, catching Zane by surprise and almost throwing him off the mountain. He cried and held fast, begging silently for the wind to stop. It began to die down, and he kept moving. There was a ledge above him. He jumped to it.
The rough stone slid beneath his fingers as he dangled off the edge. Frantically Zane felt for something to hold onto and found an indent in the rock. He felt for a foothold and hoisted himself on the ledge, flopping down upon it. Alerts for his strength and energy were blaring warning signs in his vision. If he went up one more, he'd be completely spent, and he would be caught and unable to fight.
Propping himself on one elbow, Zane surveyed his surroundings looking for different ways to get up the mountain.
Off to his right, he saw what looked like a small rugged footpath covered in snow that skirted the edge of the mountain as it went up. Zane shimmied his way toward it. As he started up the path he saw a dead tree covered in snow that offered some shelter from the driving snow. He stopped to rest before continuing upon his way.
...
Zane began to see the top of the rise as he ran along the steep path. He was almost at the top of the mountain!
He looked around, but saw no sign of the ghosts. Only the desolate wind howled in his ears. He continued on, thinking he had lost them. He pushed on through the last stretch of the path and finally reached the top. He began searching for a way back down the other side. He peered over the edge of the mountaintop and gasped when he saw it was nothing but sheer cliffs on the other side.
Suddenly a cackle made Zane turn around. His heart dropped when he saw Ghoultar and Bansha standing at the end of the path he had come up.
"H-how did you get up here?!" He said. They said nothing but started to advance on Zane. Ghoultar on his left, and Bansha on his right, with the cliff behind him, he was trapped. He backed up a few steps, closer to its edge. He turned around and could see the ground far below.
Zane turned back to the ghosts and his foot slid off the icy edge, sending him flying off the cliff and plummeting to the ground below. He screamed but was cut off as he hit the rocks on his way down, sending spears of pain through his body. By the time he had tumbled to the bottom, he was unconscious, laying in the snow. The storm continued to blow, covering him in snow throughout the night.