The peak opened before them in a vast, eerie silence that felt nothing like the rest of the mountain. Isabella stepped forward first, Glimora close to her right side, Osiris trailing behind her with that calm curiosity he always carried—calm on the outside, but she could feel the shift in his aura. Even he was alert here.
The place wasn't just odd—it felt wrong.
Or ancient.
Or both.
The ground leveled out into a perfect circle, so smooth and unnaturally carved it looked like a god had sliced the top clean with a single strike. And above them, there was no sky. No sun. No moon. Just a pale, mystical glow that floated through the air like ambient light produced from the mountain's own heartbeat.
Isabella's eyes narrowed. Her senses prickled all at once.
She could feel the mountain feeding her—like a slow, subtle rush of spiritual energy threading into her bones. Too gentle to alarm her, but strong enough that every single step sent tingles up her spine.
