The Mountain’s Reckoning

Rajen’s boots skidded on the ice, sending him crashing to his knees as he grasped for the rough rock to stop his fall. His fingers, numb from the biting cold, scraped against the jagged stone, barely catching his weight before he could tumble over the edge. His breath came in ragged bursts, plumes of mist swirling into the gray, storm-heavy air. The mountain loomed above him, a merciless giant, its peak shrouded in angry clouds, but Rajen didn’t have the luxury to admire it. His mind was a storm of its own—fueled by the fire burning in his chest, by the rage that clawed at him from the inside, and by the overwhelming burden of his bloodline.

“Rajen! Rajen, stop!”

Pasang’s voice was distant, almost swallowed by the howling wind. He was struggling behind, scrambling to keep up, but Rajen didn’t slow. Couldn’t slow. The cave was just ahead—the place where it would all change, where he’d be freed from the ghost that had haunted him since birth. The relentless weight of shame.