The Whispering Mountain
Cassandra fears visiting the mysterious Whispering Mountain, but Evelyne must honor her true love’s memory.
When Evelyne came to my house wearing a black cloak, I dropped everything. With a snap of my fingers, the broomstick stopped sweeping, the rags stopped wiping, and the potion stopped brewing. I helped my friend into my sweltering hut. If I knew I had company, I would’ve caught a stray wind to cool the house down. But not any wind; the young ones tend to zoom around the house, knocking everything over.
I waved a finger at the kettle; the violet pot tooted and tilted its warm spout into two teacups and poured hot water on the leaves. The cups waddled over to us. Once Evelyne took a drink, I finally questioned my friend.
“When did it happen?” I asked.
Evelyne took a long sip, a tear fluttering down her long eyelashes.
“Yesterday,” said Evelyne. “I thought of sending a raven, but it felt too impersonal. I knew Silas meant a lot to you. I need you, Cassandra.”
I sniffed. A tear fell into my tea, creating tiny ripples. I set the cup down on my coffee table. And stared into Evelyne’s silver teared-up eyes.
“I should’ve come to you,” I said. “The journey must’ve been rough for you. Especially with the preparations.”
Evelyne placed her cup next to mine. Her hand trembled on the table, and she gasped, her face turned maroon.
“I didn’t come just to see you. To honor Silas’s memory, I am going up the Whispering Mountain.”
My broomstick, Broom, fluttered over to us, shivering. Twigs shook as if to tell us no, we weren’t to go up the dreaded mountain. All witches heard of the dangers lurking there.
Rumors of warlocks and witches practicing dark magic in the mountain spread amongst our community. They retreated to the mountains for a reason, as my mother always said. It was best to stay away. Something I let my friend know.
“Honor Silas? Whatever do you mean? We have never been up there and for a good reason! Do you want a treacherous witch to try to steal our powers?”
Broom nodded in agreement. She staggered to the door and tried to barricade us. But Evelyne waved a finger and Broom flew across the living room.
“I better go before nightfall. Thank you for the tea, Cassandra.”
Her feet stomp on the wooden floor. Spiders crawled out from underneath and tilted their little black heads at me. Pearly strands of the web started to form between them. I waved a finger at them. My potion didn’t need any web yet.
I knew I had to follow Evelyne otherwise she would come back powerless. Or worst, she wouldn’t come back at all.
“Sorry to startle you, my dears, but you can rest for now.” I walked away from them and headed to Evelyne. “I know you’re upset. But you cannot mistreat Broom or my spiders. Must we go? You know the village is the quickest path to the mountains. And the villagers hate witches.”
Evelyne raised her cloak hood over her raven black hair.
“Don’t worry, I always think of everything.”
“Where are ya goin’, children?”
A troll stood in front of us, blocking us from the village’s gates. He had greenish-brown skin with great huge bumps across his face. Drool dripped out of his crimson lips. A spear remained at his side, but in one quick motion, we would become skewers. Except I felt confident Evelyne could turn him into a toad before he tried anything.
I fluttered with a strand of violet hair. Every inch of my body ached and burned. The curse of the aging spell Evelyne placed on us. To the troll, and anyone else, we were no older than ten years old. No one suspected a couple of children were witches who could turn them all into toads.
“We came for supplies,” said Evelyne. “But we can spend our coins somewhere else!”
She jingled her pocket and took out a gold coin. The coin sparkled as the sun hit it. The troll licked his chops as he stared at the coin. Evelyne flickered it into his outstretched hand, and he beckoned us to move forward.
Inside the town, stalls with loaves of bread, fruit, and pottery filled every corner. I eyed a large loaf of bread for myself, but Evelyne walked quickly through the stalls. Her silver eyes never made contact with anyone else’s.
Children whooped and hollered as they ran through the town. A girl, no older than four, ran straight into Evelyne, knocking the witch down; the black hood dropped from her head. Emerald-green sparks flickered out of Evelyne’s hand. Fearing what Evelyne might do, I helped my friend up and glared at the child.
“Do mind where you’re going,” I said. “Or you might find yourself in a well.”
The girl squeaked. She had noticed Evelyne’s hands sparking as if she held a firecracker. She ran off, not apologizing for the incident. Evelyne pulled her hood up, again covering her dark black hair.
“Should’ve let me turn her into a cockroach,” said Evelyne. “Her parents are going to send the guards on us.”
I wiped a drop of sweat from my brow. “You don’t think the other children wouldn’t notice? And I believe you’re wrong, look.”
The girl returned to her friends, running around and laughing. No one gave us a second glance, to my relief. Nonetheless, I wanted to keep going — Children were unpredictable. Likely, the child’s innocent brain didn’t think about warning people of us. But one little slip-up and the town would be after us. While I feared nothing happening to us, I preferred not hurting the humans. For centuries, humans let their fears control them. Anytime they feared witches, they would kill their own. It wasn’t easy to catch a witch, especially any as powerful as us.
Evelyne sighed. She picked up a pinecone from the ground and turned it to ash.
We returned on our journey toward the southern gate. Along the way, I picked up a loaf. The smell was irresistible. I snuck my teeth in like a viper going in for the kill. Soft as if the baker had caught a cloud and turned it into bread.
The southern gates also had a troll standing there, but this troll was preoccupied with a couple of men smuggling in toad skins. Her club swayed at her side as if she was ready to smash their fragile bones. I almost pitied them.
“The villagers’ fears are worse than I realized,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Working with trolls, I never thought I would see such an alliance.”
“Fear is a terrible emotion. Humans always do reckless things when they let fear control them. They don’t even realize we rather leave them alone as long as they leave us be. It won’t be long before one of these trolls takes everything they have.”
“So why work with them? They can’t believe trolls have their best interest.”
“Because they believe we’re the monsters. Oh well, let’s be on our way.”
The Whispering Mountain was about a half-day walk from the village. Once we left the main road, we were on an uneven path, unfit for a carriage. Cobblestones stuck out, tripping us on every other step. I supposed humans must’ve heard the tales of the Whispering Mountain; we met no one else.
Night had already fallen. Clouds covered the crescent moon and the stars. Drops of rain dripped on our hooded cloaks. Without our magic, we would’ve been walking in an endless void — too blind to see anything in front of us.
Above us, Evelyne cast a waterproof fireball. With the faint light, I saw the crooked trees leaning toward us with their outstretched arms — ready to snatch us away. Pairs of gleaming eyes hid behind bushes, all potential creatures trying to decide if we were worthy prey. Maybe it was the effects of the aging potion, but I felt like a scared child who wanted to crawl into my mother’s arms. Evelyne’s face remained stone-like. If she felt any fear, I doubt she would voice it. I tried to smile, but it kept flickering away. I felt tempted to grab Evelyne’s hand to calm myself.
Once we finally reached the path climbing to the mountain, I almost felt relieved until I reminded myself of the dangers above us. A crow flew into a tree and cawed at us. I wished I had brought Broom with me, but Evelyne insisted I leave her behind. The villagers wouldn’t handle a broom walking.
The mountain didn’t appear any less sinister than the other path. I noticed more unsettling sights. Bones of small animals crunched under my feet, and I heard the cries of a banshee behind the trees. I shuddered as the wind crawled under my cloak. Nothing felt safe. Why did Evelyne insist on climbing the dreaded mountain?
“We’re almost there,” said Evelyne.
My feet and chest ache from the long journey. Each breath felt as if my lungs were about to turn into mush. My feet had almost turned to stone. When I returned to my home, I intended to soak my feet in ice.
Glimmering snow covered the top of the mountain. But the sinister presence faded before I soaked in the view. There was not a castle with a warlock or witch in sight. No goblins crawled out of the bushes with long daggers. No creature or being lived here.
But a strange warm feeling entered my chest as if a fire had entered my heart. Magic. Wild, but pure, lived on the Whispering Mountain, but I didn’t recognize the magic. It was like nothing I had ever experienced.
“What is this place?”
Evelyne stood at the edge of the mountain, staring at the floating orbs emerging from below. Some orbs were bright colors, while others were dark. Fast images moved in them, all too fast to see. High-pitched but pleasant sounds echoed in them. It was like listening to a child whispering in my ears. I glanced down the edge to see where these orbs came from. On a ledge, a pearly white pond swirled down below. Bubbles popped up, and as they exploded, an orb emerged. I lean a hand to touch one, but Evelyne grabbed me.
“For centuries,” said Evelyne, “my family has guarded the Dream Pond against others who would abuse this power. We spread the rumors to protect the pond. We cannot taint it now. Allow me to show you.”
Her hands drifted in the air and she beckoned for an emerald orb to come over. The orb hovered in front of us and showed us a girl playing outside with a faceless child. Those inside the orb looked as transparent as a ghost.
“Amazing, but why can’t we touch them?”
Evelyne sighed. “Whenever an orb is touched, it frees whatever is inside. Harmless ones won’t cause too much damage, but anyone would fear seeing a transparent doppelgänger of themselves, would they not? But imagine if I released a dragon who tore apart a villager or a witch who turns children into pies. It’s better to leave the orbs alone most of the time.”
A navy-blue orb floated to us, inside a man cowered as a sword sliced through his table. Whatever monster he feared hid behind a velvet curtain and only the bony hand peeked through. I shuddered at the thought of accidentally freeing such a monster.
Evelyne sat down at the edge. Without uttering a word, she watched the orbs float into the night sky before falling back into the pond. Tears fluttered from her eyes and dripped into the pond. Small ripples formed. I sat next to her and took her callous, but warm hand.
“Did Silas know?”
I imagined Evelyne and Silas sitting together, watching the orbs as the night faded away. What a wonderful place to spend evenings together with nothing to disturb the moment. But Evelyne shook her head.
“My mother never would’ve let a human come here; she would’ve turned him into a statue. It was bad enough getting disowned.”
Witches weren’t supposed to fall in love with humans. They had such short lifespans compared to us, and they feared our kind. Maybe it didn’t help that sometimes we cursed them whenever one angered us. Most of my family scolded me for staying friends with Evelyne, but I couldn’t abandon her for giving her heart to Silas. After all, Silas gave his heart to her.
Evelyne jumped as a violet orb drifted to her, a transparent bird fluttered on a branch. It cocked its head toward us. I almost stopped her when her pale hand touched it and a dove popped out in her hand. On the transparent dove’s neck was a necklace with Evelyne’s name on it.
“This…this was his last dream, wasn’t it? The reason why you came here?”
Evelyne stroked the bird, her tears falling on the feathers.
“It only felt fitting to honor his last dream. Sometimes we need a little beauty in this world, don’t we?”
She lifted her hands in the air and the dove took off into the night sky. A cloud shifted, and a star shined upon the dove. Orbs floated along with the dove, guiding it to freedom. We watched it until it disappeared.
Once Evelyne had enough watching the orbs, we headed back down the mountain. As we descended, I heard the whispers from the orbs, each reassuring me nothing unpleasant would threaten us. I took Evelyne’s hand, and she held on tight to mine. Someday, I knew I would return with her to the Whispering Mountain. Until then, I knew she would protect my dreams from any sinister hands.
Inspired by Ravyne Hawke’s Fiction Friday Prompt
