mahler had taken @Emmerich to sagtannet this day. they had left the hollow behind hours ago, and the ageing man had not found himself so advanced in years that he did not challenge the boy to a race here and there. the great sharp spires of stone which jutted from the base of the mountain reminded him of all wylla's protestations about this place.
up they had gone, the trail steepening and his muscles aching.
once he rested.
but otherwise, mahler did not stop, even as the air grew thinner and more frigid, as the snow of the lower elevations gave way to heavier flakes. and windholme roared beside them, the thick rushing river studded with floating ice, which poured from somewhere at the top of the mountain.
"your sister and brother, phaedra and thade, vere born here. phaedra came back for a time."
emmerich was the last child remaining, the others dispersed.