Peak by Michelle St. Claire

Author:Michelle St. Claire
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: May 3rd Books, Inc.

Entrance

Toruk, his eyes wide with amazement, stepped off the Riverbank and into Matla Valley, looking out at the westward expanse, immediately noticing small dancing bulbs of light hovering in the air. They were the fireflies, millions of them whom the Voice had awakened from their winter slumber once again and commanded them to glow now as they normally do in summer, to serve as a moving lamp for Toruk.

What are those things? he thought as he looked on. Fireflies? In winter? The sight mesmerized him, filled him with intrigue and wonder. The flies were not grouped in a swarm but dispersed throughout the entire Valley, suspended in the air like millions of dangling gold earrings. Small pools of frozen water like silver disks scattered throughout the Valley reflected the golden glow of the flies, adding to the glorious ambiance. They immediately obeyed the Voice and went to the young Lijian like a small army of light, fixating themselves just before him.

As the flies began to lead Toruk onward, he gasped at the beautiful white snow blanketing the Valley’s entirety, covering the frozen ground with nearly four inches of soft, powdery whiteness, clinging to the bare trees, enveloping the bushes and shrubs, filling in the natural ridges running through and around the Valley, piling up near the base of the Mountain, hiding the little pools and streams scattered throughout. The snow was like silver sparkles, dazzling, twinkling in the night, shining with a silver white brilliance Toruk had never seen before.

He did not know that the Voice Upon the Mountain had walked this Valley hundreds of thousands of years ago, marking it as the foundation in which Matla Mountain would sit. The Valley reflected his glory, his power, his love, for it contained hidden secrets of the Voice’s authority. He had long ago crafted it with his mighty hand and drew from his well of wisdom the rock upon which his Peak was mounted. Throughout time, many had visited the Valley, yet few understood the purity of its enchanted grounds, or the power of the trees spread throughout. The Voice loved the Valley, perhaps more than Satqin, for it had never disobeyed him, forever bowing to his authority and obeying his commands.

Like the Forest, the Voice had encoded rules within Matla Valley to set it apart from all other creation. It fed from the water of the Chena River which gave it untold powers, allowing it to move and speak in its own enchanted way. Unlike the seasons of Satqin, the Valley never died, for it continuously replenished itself with abundance from the River. And it possessed intelligence, enabling it to judge those who dared to step foot within, opining upon the intruder’s heart, soul, and mind, immediately blocking access to those unworthy of entrance while welcoming those who were. Many times, the Valley had chased away clever, nefarious souls through its fingers of nature, casting sticks and stones in the air, hurling it at the menace, closing its fragrant flowers, or drying out its pools and streams long enough for the unworthy soul to leave.

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