The Majors, Cold Fury (Book 2)

Chapter 84: Burial of Champions

TW/CW: vomiting, dead bodies, blood

~Gemini~

I was panting, staggering as I attempted to pull myself up and over the ledge. I was trying not to use too much magic, trying not to draw too much attention to the fact I was trying to scale a cliff.

Although the earthquakes had relatively subsided from yesterday, when Fwhip set off the reactor, there was still an occasional rumble...the earth wasn't willing to put us totally at ease yet.

Now, nearly a day after the meeting within the Derelict Forest, we had lost contact with several others. The few who answered included me, my brother, Jimmy, Katherine, Joel, Sausage and Pixl.

But there was no sign of Pearl, Joey, Lizzie, Shrub or Scott.

So, I had been tasked, with finding one of them as everyone else had. Specifically, Scott.

I just hoped the reason he wasn't answering was that he still didn't know how to use his communicator. 

The path leading along the edge of the valley, up to the main plateau Rivendale was set upon, had collapsed. So now, I had to struggle my way up the steep edge of the slope. I had chosen the most gradual route, and even then, it was a rather sheer mountain. But I was getting there.

I had to take long breaks between short periods of climbing. My lungs begged for oxygen at the exertion of my arms as I painstakingly pulled myself up onto ledges, but the smoke in the air stifled it. I was scared to see what the city looked like. I hadn't yet spotted it, but the heat and the haze of grey did nothing to help my confidence levels.

I was nearing the top now. I believed here was the jut out where the Rivendallian enchantment tower was perched...it concerned me how I couldn't see it from the ground.

I finally managed to pull myself over the edge, onto the flat surface....and was met with the horrifying state of the city. The tower, in question, lay in pieces. Chunks of marble ranging from the size of my head to the size of a car laid in piles of rubble, shredded and burnt paper scattered from the books that had been held inside. Large dead-looking vines lay shriveled, contrasting sharply against the whites and greys of what the tower used to be.

Other than that? The place was dead silent except for the whistling, dry wind that traversed the mountains....it was a ghost town.

And it was terrifying.

Without wasting another second, I began to bolt down the pathway, clearing the large chunks of debris and swerving around the obstacles from the crash. My fingers danced around the amulet bouncing against my chest, something in the back of my mind telling me I'd require it in just a few moments.

Needless to say, I dreaded the accuracy of my gut feeling. The feeling that something was horribly wrong.

The thin, natural pathway that split the ravine wrapping the north side of Rivendale had somewhat crumbled, clearly unstable. Pieces had already broken away and fallen down to the river far below, a river now grey and murky with ash.

I continued on, however, sprinting across it before it had the time to break under my weight. The pathway then wrapped around the cliffside, bringing me up in a gradual slope towards the main city. The air smelt of blood and fire, although there were no flames in sight. 

My first thought was to check the palace. Maybe there would be a clue as to where Scott and his sister had gone off to.

I approached the doors, immediately noticing the way the wood was cracked, like it had been put under an immense amount of heat and pressure. The edges near the bottom were burnt, slowly shriveling, the hinges and doorknobs slightly disfigured...