The mountain path was cloaked in an air even more treacherous than the day before.
Led by Kuon, they cut a path through unmarked ground, avoiding the main approach where guards stood watch. Fallen branches from yesterday’s upheaval lay in tangled heaps; with every step they took, the scent of damp earth rose to meet them. The night air was biting, turning their breath into white mist. Only the red moon remained, carving sharp shadows from the trees.
"From here on, silence," Kuon whispered. "They are sensitive to sound. The barrier may have sharpened their hearing as it dulls their sight."
Koyoi felt her throat tighten. Even her own heartbeat sounded deafening. The three pressed on along a narrow game trail, treading carefully to avoid the crunch of fallen leaves. The Wind God wove a veil around Koyoi, muffling the rustle of her clothes into a faint sigh. Her feet felt heavy on the damp moss, as if the earth were clinging to her soles. The weight was a blessing; a light step would have betrayed them.
...Thank you, Wind, she thought, and the pouch at her side grew warm.
Midway up the slope, a hazy red glow appeared—not the sharp beam of a lantern, but a faint, pulsing light. It bled into the mist, its edges shimmering. Whether it was physical fire or sorcery, Koyoi couldn't tell. She held her breath, fixed on Kuon’s back. Two men in white masks stood among the trees, clutching staves.
"What do we do?" Asahi signaled. "Take them?"
"No. If we’re undetected, we pass," Kuon replied. "We avoid unnecessary combat."
Kuon drew a small stone from his vest. Seeking a controlled distraction, he tossed it away from their path; it tumbled down the slope and struck a root with a sharp crack. The guards spun toward the noise. In that opening, the three slipped past like shadows.
They encountered more guards further up. Four of them this time. The path narrowed, and red threads were strung across the ground—a vibration trap. One step would alert the entire mountain. Koyoi bit her lip as the Wind God trembled, scattering the sound of her movement like grass bowing in a breeze. Kuon signaled for them to wait. As the masked men shifted, the threads pulsed with a rhythmic light.
"We have to fight," Asahi mouthed, hand on his sword.
"Wait," Koyoi stopped him. "Vidro is speaking."
...I cannot be seen, whispered the voice of the Glass Eye. ...I will make you the same.
Koyoi held up the Glass Eye. It drank the moonlight, warping the air until the group melted into the trees. Her vision blurred, and the outlines of her hands grew faint. She was there, yet she felt untethered from existence.
"Incredible," Asahi whispered, staring at his translucent hand.
Invisible, they walked right past the guards. The men felt only a gust of wind; within that breeze, Kuon let out a soft, satisfied breath. The tension eased. Koyoi focused on the damp soil beneath her boots, a tether to reality. Even if she was transparent, the resolve in her heart remained solid.
...You’re amazing, Vidro.
Koyoi stroked the glass, feeling it shimmer with pride. The summit neared. Red light bled through the trees, staining the sky as the ritual reached its peak. Deep within her chest, her own light shivered, and she felt the Moon God’s presence weep. The wind died; the world felt drawn toward the peak. Kuon looked back and nodded.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes," Koyoi answered.
"Let’s go. No more hiding. From here, we fight."
Koyoi anchored her resolve. The red surge was more than light; it pulsed through her bones. The air grew thin and their breath thick. Kuon came to a halt, listening.
"The guards are increasing."
Asahi gave a short nod. "I’ll lead."
Koyoi tried to step forward, but Kuon stopped her with his palm. "Stay hidden as long as you can. Don't rush."
She gripped her pouch, feeling the chill of Vidro and the warmth of the Moon God beneath it. It’s okay, she thought. I’ll end this soon.
A low, rhythmic thrum reached them from the summit—a sinister heartbeat. The ritual had already begun. Koyoi steadied herself, fueling the flame in her heart. The colder the earth felt beneath her feet, the hotter her resolve burned. Through the trees, the red light heaved like waves.
"Moving out," Kuon said softly.
Asahi readied his blade; Koyoi followed into the light. The ground hardened, the air turned heavy. The time for stealth had passed. The wind stopped, leaving a strange, heavy silence. Koyoi gripped the Glass Eye. Let us end it here, the Moon God whispered.
The plaza came into view, dominated by a rotating pillar of red light. Koyoi paused. Fear remained, but her need to help was stronger. It carried her forward. The moment her boots hit the stone paving, the barrier's heat surged. Her heart wavered, but she didn't stop.
There was no turning back. The red light dyed the world in crimson, and within it, Koyoi found the Moon God’s spark. The fear receded, replaced by a tangible warmth. She focused her entire being on the center of the light. A cold wind brushed her cheek, drying her sweat.
Koyoi embraced the sensation, swearing once more to the Moon God. Her white breath hung in the air, leaving behind only the shape of her resolve. She walked silently, the cold stone biting into her soles. She welcomed the pain; it told her she was here, in the present.
Ignoring a distant scream, she stepped into the radiance. Her heart was steady. Her feet did not falter. Inside her pouch, the wind spun in a small circle, crying out in time with her stride.