“Harpy to the left.” Mahon indicated.

“How can you even spot them like that?” Ranaeril muttered for the fourth time while shaking his head.

“Where is it?” Halueth said instead. “I can’t see it.”

Mahon checked again with his Flow and easily spotted the creature’s rhythm.

“Near the three big trees, up there.” He gestured towards the harpy’s direction.

“Got it.” Halueth said a couple seconds later. He continued after a few more seconds of thinking. “We’ll probably not be able to pass without being detected. And moving around would take too much time. We need to take it down.”

“I’ll do it.” Jorik volunteered.

The four men exchanged a nod. Jorik wasn’t the best archer, but he was still able to double shot like any Hunter, and against a harpy it was more than enough.

Jorik sneakily crawled towards the creature while the others waited behind with their bows drawn just in case something would go awry. The noble continued his slow advance until he managed to reach a rock approximately thirty meters away from the harpy. He readied two arrows, slowed down his breath and prepared for the shots.

Through his Flow, Mahon could easily follow the situation. Even if Jorik was Flowing as well, he could still discern the change of rhythm caused by the deep concentration needed for double shooting.

Then, without warning, Jorik shot an arrow in the air and followed almost instantly with a straight arrow. The harpy got sight of Jorik’s sudden movement and barely moved away from his arrow’s path. Alas, the second arrow came at the same time and caught the harpy unaware, piercing its left wing.

A third arrow followed almost just after and finished the creature. The whole scene had lasted less than one second, and the harpy never had time to call for help.

Jorik turned around and made a thumbs up gesture to the trio. He then dusted some dirt on his clothes from his previous crawling while the others joined him.

“Nice shot.” Ranaeril commented before they continued their path through the valley.

The landscape was a mix of trees and rocks, closer to a forest than a mountain. They had climbed up and then down the whole day before until they reached this valley. It looked like a giant green and gray basin in the middle of thousand meters high impassable mountains. Through the sparse vegetation, it was impossible to forget the white colossus watching them threateningly from all sides.

“This is the Black Pinnacle.” Ranaeril gestured to an imposing mountain, that was somehow a thousand meters higher than even the second highest.

Its peak was lost above the clouds, and, contrary to its name, the whole mountain appeared white from the snow that covered it fully from head to toes.

“The mountain no one managed to climb?” Jorik asked.

“Exactly. It’s more than ten thousand meters high, and it’s the only mountain that has seen no human at its summit.”

“You mean someone actually climbed those?” Mahon intervened in the discussion and gestured to the other mountains around them.

“Yes.” Ranaeril said with a tint of excitement in his voice. “Only the Black Pinnacle is still unreachable. All the others had been once climbed by a Hunter.”

“Then why didn’t we pass by these mountains and avoid the harpies?” Mahon asked again. “We probably don’t even have to reach the top, so…”

“Because it’s deadly.” Halueth intervened coldly before Ranaeril could speak. “These mountains had been climbed at the price of countless Hunters’ lives. For the sole sake of climbing them. It brought nothing else.”

Halueth’s voice was harsh enough Mahon threw him a worried look. Ranaeril saw it and sighed silently.

“Even though we don’t need to climb to their top to pass through, all these mountains are very similar in nature. The rocks and snow are unstable. There are many avalanches that erase the paths and change the face of the mountains now and then. It’s very dangerous even at the bottom.” The Silent Bow Clan’s chief explained.

Mahon nodded while Ranaeril continued.

“The harpies, although dangerous, are much more predictable. It’s the safest way.” He paused before he continued, a tone lower. “These mountains are actually a taboo of the Silent Bow Clan.”

Ranaeril threw a look at Halueth, but the old man didn’t show anything, and Ranaeril took it as a sign to start his story. He spoke with the same tone he used to speak with when he was teaching something to Mahon and Jorik.

“We were once a much larger tribe. Covering more than one place through the mountains. We lived a very different life than this one. We were both feared and respected in the whole Notitia Region. We probably could have taken control of it for ourselves if we had wanted.”

The four men were walking in a careful manner, checking for harpies around them almost mechanically while their mind was drawn into Ranaeril’s story.

“I say we, but no one in the village had lived that age. It was centuries ago. Maybe millennials. Our archives are clear enough about what happened, though. We were almost gods to the other tribes. Our mastery of archery made us invincible, and our knowledge of the mountains necessary for anyone wanting to cross through or thrive in this otherwise desertic land.”

“The more we were, the further we explored. We spread and flourished through the Notitia Peaks. The more we were considered gods by the other tribes, the more we thought we were. But we knew we weren’t. And we had our own gods. The mountains. But slowly, a new idea emerged. If we were meant to become gods, shouldn’t we try to be like our own gods? Shouldn’t we start seeing the world like our gods did? From the very top of the world?”

“And soon, a race ensued. A hunter’s status was determined by his ability to climb mountains. Challenges were issued to see who could climb the highest, who could climb the most, who could climb the fastest. But the mountains don’t care about us. They live their own lives at their own paces.”

“Years passed, and the easiest mountains were all topped. The eyes of many turned to this very natural bowl and its high mountains. They started to call it the hearth of the Notitia Peaks because it’s where the highest mountains lay. Without wasting a single instant, they tried to conquer them. Alas, they were not as forgiving as the others.”

“Many Hunters wanted to complete the challenges, but they only met their own ends. Many expeditions tried their luck. Very very few succeeded. Some mountains ended up climbed only once and never again. At the price of thousands of lives. Until only the Black Pinnacle remained standing, towering over the Silent Bow Clan like the king of gods.”

“But by then, the Silent Bow Clan had been devastated. Decades of dangerous ascents had killed many good men and women. Our own madness caused our fall. Still, some were convinced that once the Black Pinnacle would be climbed, the clan would be at its peak again. It was just this last hurdle.”

“Many chiefs bribed their men to follow them into this deadly adventure. None came back alive. They simply send their men with them to suicide. And in less than a century, the Silent Bow Clan fell from its pedestal. From the leader of the Notitia Region to almost extinction. We were once the Black Pinnacle, but we melted to just a small nameless hill.”

“Every Hunter learns of this lesson at a very young age now. We’re not meant to become gods. We don’t dominate the mountains. We live with them. An over inflated ego will only lead us to our doom. Since then, we have lived differently. We are now a small village, living in harmony with nature. And we don’t fall prey to our hunger, as tempting as it may be to give a go at this mountain and become history.” Ranaeril concluded with a longing glance at the Black Pinnacle.

Halueth threw him a worried look, but he chose to say nothing, and neither Mahon nor Jorik dared to speak after this story. Clearly, that was a subject where Halueth and Ranaeril didn’t completely agree with each other.

“Everybody down!” Halueth exclaimed an instant later, and the three men instantly followed Halueth’s example, jumping to the ground.

“What is it?” Ranaeril asked while Mahon scanned the surroundings with his Flow without seeing anything.

“A group of harpies. High in the sky.” Halueth explained while pointing to the south and over their heads.

The three men moved slowly to turn their body and watch seven black dots in the sky, hovering hundreds of meters over the valley.

“They don’t seem to have seen us.” Ranaeril commented shortly after.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Halueth said. “They’ve been moving towards us since I first saw them.”

“That might be just a coincidence.” Ranaeril mused out loud. “Could they really have seen us walking from up there?”

“I can’t say.” Halueth answered. “Let’s stay still for a bit and see. They can see motions from very far away, but if they haven’t seen us yet, we should be fine like that.”

Unfortunately for them, they had been walking through a wide empty area. They were just small rocks here and there, but no trees or large boulders to hide from the harpies’ eyes.

At this distance, though, the harpies shouldn’t be able to see them. They simply scanned the area for any movements from up high. It was actually very similar to Mahon’s own sentry’s method. From this height, the harpies could see anything but not watch everything. Only motions would draw them for a closer look.

The four men with their back on the ground watched the dots come closer to them. Until they hovered just above them. Fortunately, they didn’t stop over their position and continued forward as if the group of four humans didn’t exist.

Halueth let out a sigh of relief. “They didn’t see us. Let’s just wait until they’re far away and start moving again.”

At this exact instant, a single harpy appeared in Mahon’s Flow, approximately a hundred meters to their left. The harpy was flying leisurely, but she was clearly headed in their direction.

“We’ve got a problem.” Mahon immediately warned the others. “There is a harpy coming from the left.”

“Fuck!” Ranaeril swore.

Then, as slowly as he could, he took two arrows from his quiver and moved his bow above his torso.

There was no easy way out. If they moved to avoid the single harpy, the group over their head would instantly discover them, given they were almost straight above them. But if they didn’t move, the single harpy would immediately notice them. Staying still wouldn’t change anything at this distance.

“Prepare for the worst.” Halueth whispered just before the harpy appeared in their sight.

As soon as they saw it, the half-snake half-bird creature also saw them. With the distinctive intelligence proper to its race, the harpy didn’t hesitate a single instant before it rushed at the humans, certain of its supremacy even against four of them.

Two arrows welcomed it before it could reach within twenty meters of them, and the harpy was dead even before it fell to the ground.

No one dared to move as the creature got crushed under its own weight when it impacted the ground. A few loose rocks rolled noisily before an eerie silence settled in.

Mahon, Jorik, Halueth and Ranaeril, still laying on their back, attentively observed the black dots over their heads. A second passed. Then another. And then the flock of harpies turned around and came back towards them.

“Fuck!” Halueth swore loudly, breaking the quiet eeriness of their clearing.

The old man was on his foot the next second. He pulled his backpack over his shoulder and gestured for the other to hurry.

“No need to pretend anymore. We need to move now! We have to find a cave, or this will be the end of the journey for all of us!”

Before he even finished speaking, the three other men were at his side, backpacks and material secured, bows drawn, ready both to run and shoot. Halueth started running towards the towering mountains, where they would have higher chances of finding their safe haven, and the group followed behind.

Mahon and Jorik scanned the surroundings with their Flow as they ran, increasing their odds of discovering a cave deep enough to repel and hide from the harpies.

Up in the sky, the seven black dots grew wings and bodies as they approached closer to the running humans. They were still out of shooting distance, but the shape of the harpies was becoming more and more visible.

“Can’t we take them down before they call for help?” Mahon asked as they were still running.

“They’re dumb but to a reasonable extent. If one manages to survive the first volley, it will immediately scream to alert others.” Ranaeril answered, his voice slightly shaky from the run.

“We’re four and you’re expert archers.” Mahon answered without any difficulty. “Can’t we shoot them down at once?”

He was used to endurance training and difficult situations, contrary to the two Hunters who always lived by their own leisure pace to survive the mountains.

“Seven harpies in one go? We need two arrows for one, and I can only shoot five arrows at once.” Ranaeril thought out loud. “I can take two. Halueth as well. But that leaves three for Jorik and you, and you can only double shots. Unless you can perform a miracle, it won’t happen.”

“What if I do?” Mahon answered very seriously.