The wind picked up until it wailed like a crying child. I grasped my cloak's hood tighter to shield my face. The wind tore the cloak from my hands until it struck my face with such cold and ferocity it felt like a thousand bee stings. Breathing through my mouth helped with the cold a bit. I focused on my frozen breaths leaving my body. I held onto my horse's reins while she neighed and bucked against the wind and cold.
We tried to find the easiest path, but each time the ground became too slippery with ice, or the deep snow crawled up my leg. My feet slipped every few steps, and twice I went down hard on my knees, grunting in pain.
Towards the end of the first day, I reached the end of the path I followed. On one side, the cliff reared up beside me; on the other was a steep drop to the valley below. It seemed odd to see the green of spring down there, while the bitter wind threw ice crystals at my face.
I found a sheltered spot and dug a campsite out of the snowdrifts. It was a cold and lonely night, and I knew I was in for many more, if I survived.
The next few days were the same. Sometimes I found a path; other times my horse and I scrambled over the rocky ground with no guide but the need to keep going up. I didn't understand why I had heard tales of people trying to climb the White Mountain. Who would do this unless they were compelled to, like I was? I had to latch on to my inner fire to stay warm, and I hugged my freezing horse from time to time for even more warmth. Finally, I got to a place where there would be no more paths. I would have to scramble over fields of shale and tumbled boulders. There was no way my horse could make it. I had been putting off this moment, but I knew what I had to do.
I grabbed the horse’s reins and nuzzled my head against hers. She whickered and returned the gesture. While I was used to killing animals on the farm where I worked, this was different. I had never killed an animal I owned before, one that had given me brave service and companionship.
I took out my father's dagger, exposing my body to the harsh elements when my cloak unfurled. The old girl looked at me with calm, black eyes. I slashed her jugular vein with as much accuracy, speed, and strength as I could. Her blood painted the snow. She gave a weary neigh, saying her goodbye to the gods as she collapsed to the ground.
I spent the rest of the day working on her in the freezing weather. I skinned her and cleaned up her hide as best as I could, using the snow and melting it with my power. I cut and packaged as much meat as I could carry. The hide would help keep me warm.
More days passed, and the wind never stopped flinging snow in my eyes. I went to sleep cold and woke up freezing. I had to constantly use my power to keep myself warm. I wondered how people who didn't have my power climbed the mountain. They must be crazy. Or dead.
My power waned, and my body became numb from the cold. It seemed there were limits to what my inner fire could do. I forced myself to trudge along. I was damned if I was going to let the White Mountain defeat me.
By the end of the week, I couldn't feel my fingers or toes. I found a crevice out of the wind and kindled a fire with my sputtering power. I hoped I had enough left within me to thaw out some frozen meat as well as warm my toes. I didn't want to choose between starvation and frostbite.
The next morning, I hauled myself to my feet and kept on. The longer I spent on the mountain, the more the cold, thin, frosty air pained me. With each deep breath, it felt like my heavy feet wouldn't move again. I managed to lift one foot after the other out of the deep snow and plop them back down. I never looked up at how far I had to go. I only focused on the crunchy, white snow in front of me.
I went on, despite how much the howling wind taunted me. I hunched my shoulders in a futile attempt to keep the sharp wind from hitting me.
From the foot of the mountain, this place was beautiful and magnificent. Up high, it was devastating, cold, and lonely. The only thing I could find comfort in was my fire.
It hadn’t taken long for my water to freeze through, but I no longer needed it. I would grab a handful of snow or ice and warm it up with my hand. The snow melted even though I had a glove on. It was pure heaven to open my mouth and let the water trickle in. However, the water wasn't enough.
Using my fire and climbing this godsforsaken landscape forced me to eat more. I needed the energy. I began running out of the food I had bought, as well as the meat my horse had given me. I had thought there might be other animals like elks, rabbits, or mountain goats so I could hunt, but I saw none. I was going to have to ration my food. I couldn’t tell how long it would be until I reached the top. The mountain stretched on forever—to the stars themselves.
I lost count of the days. They all ran together. I rose when the sun shone and rested when the sun disappeared. I couldn't feel its heat. All it did was allow me to see where I was going and what obstacles to avoid. The snow and wind did their best to obscure it.