Whispers of the Mountain - Act 2

Alejandro awoke suddenly. He panted amidst a strange silence. He gathered his thoughts, tempering his breath as he listened to his surroundings. The sunlight seeped through the curtains, revealing the books laid on the bed. Enne lay against the pillows while her body intertwined within the thin sheets. Perhaps it was the cold air emitted from the window’s poor insulation or the utterances beyond that startled his slumber. He peeked through the curtain, finding a crowd gathering toward the end of the narrow street.

Enne’s ears wiggled at his sudden movement. Her eyes opened with renewed vigor that became characteristic of their travels together thus far. The bedsheets covered her body as she sat up to look behind him. Alejandro felt her sudden warmth press against him.

“You went to sleep without clothes?” he asked, glimpsing her eyes reflecting faintly from the window.

“I’m not sure why you’d be so surprised.” Enne delivered her lines with a soothing morning voice. “Remember, I get hot rather easily. Slept well?”

“Yeah.”

“That didn’t sound terribly convincing.”

Alejandro looked over his shoulder, finding the glimmer in her eyes when she smiled. Under any other circumstance, he would’ve awoken in some rundown shelter, feeling the full brunt of an unforgiving winter. Her hands gently gripped his arm, quickly reminding him of her companionship.

“You think you’re still dreaming?” Enne smirked.

“You don’t waste any time,” Alejandro replied, turning his body toward her. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

Enne leaned against him as she looked over his shoulder. Alejandro felt the rough patch of skin scratch against his back. Her fingers moved the curtain to the side, making the street below more viewable. A small crowd mass at the other end. Something was amiss.

“Yes, indeed,” she replied. “A long day is upon us.”

It wasn’t long before Enne and Alejandro joined the crowd. The clouds overhead whitened as the snowflakes became dense. The snow built up gradually since the morning hours. Enne remained unphased from the grueling temperatures while Alejandro bundled himself to keep the warmth. Few of the townsfolk acknowledged the outsider’s presence, allowing them passage. Enne absorbed the atmosphere. The audible gasps and crying bombarded her senses as they reached the front.

“Dear God,” Alejandro muttered.

Enne kneeled at the foot of the horrific sight, a small wagon containing several battered corpses of several men. Many were outsiders who were foolish enough to venture out into the mountainside. It was hard to tell whose body part went with whose as they were gathered together in a rush. Innards ruptured from the deep lacerations, and bones were crushed by extreme force. Much of the bodies were long frozen, slowing down the decomposition from the environment. Enne was beyond words as she examined the brutality. Her head slowly turned toward the wanderer and met his stoic nod.

“I told them boys not to mess around in the mountain,” Robert spoke as he emerged from the crowd. His emotionless eyes gazed upon Enne’s silver eyes with a dire warning that went silently into the morbid atmosphere. “It brings nothing but despair.”

A little later…

Enne and Alejandro approached the other end of town, away from the peak. The two absorbed the beautiful atmosphere in silence as they reached a beaten path. The wanderer felt a sense of déjà vu when his eyes followed the trail into the wooded area. His companion took a deep breath as though she held it for long. She looked over to see his absent gaze.

“Those bodies,” she said. Her voice brought Alejandro back as he exchanged a puzzled look. “That was definitely no bear. There was something cruel about how they were killed.”

“It’s nature,” he responded. “Robert might think bears don’t pass through, but if no one entered the area over a year—”

“You aren’t dismissing his account, are you? Besides, I’m sure you know what a bear attack looks like.”

“En, if what you said last night is correct, then this windigo is problematic. But, we have no—”

“Those lacerations were far too deep to belong to any bear.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Why is it so hard for you to accept that this might be something beyond your understanding?”

“I’ve been out here all my life. I’ve seen shit like this happen more times than you could imagine.”

Enne pouted, knowing she couldn’t budge his opinion. She still knew little of the world beyond Gardenia, but she knew there were things he couldn’t comprehend. Alejandro’s eyes redirected at the browned treeline and saw a thin layer of smoke arise. His nerves eased quickly as he took a few steps forward.

“Reminds me of that shack you lived in,” Enne recalled as she stood next to him. “Oh, how time flies! Now, you’re traveling with me.”

Her elbow’s gentle nudge drew his narrowing eyes. He saw her infectious smile, a smile he had grown accustomed to. The wanderer remembered his time in the isolated shack where he’d sulk for days on end. She saved him from himself, something he found hard to admit. Even now, Enne never held it against him when he got back onto his feet. The damsel always supported him, expecting nothing in return.

“It does stir up old memories,” he finally said.

Enne proceeded up the path first as he followed close. The secluded home was by the edge of the hill, where the trail continued further down the summit. She caught a snowflake as they reached the front porch of the house. It was a rather plain wooden home, typical of the town’s architecture. Flowers aligned the entrance, covered by transparent plastic from the cold. Alejandro entered the porch while his companion looked around.

“This is it, I suppose?” he said aloud.

“Fit for a hermit indeed,” she joked.

“That’s—not nice.”

“Who are you calling a hermit?” a woman yelled.

They turned to see a short, elderly woman at the entrance. She looked at them with the wrinkled, stern brown eyes of a mother. Her braided black hair had streaks of white reaching down to her waist. Her blue woven dress reached her ankles, meeting a pair of weathered boots. The old woman would’ve been deemed fairly innocent-looking if it weren’t for the shotgun she pointed at them. She examined them as they remained frozen in place.

“My, my,” Enne hid behind Alejandro. “Eh, a pleasure to meet you?”

“Someone sent you here, I take it?” The old woman asked. The wanderer looked over his shoulder to see his spirited companion.

“You must be Sarah,” The wanderer asked. The old woman lowered her shotgun.

“I am,” she answered. “Who are you?”

“My name is Alejandro,” he said. “This is my companion, Enne.”

“Hm, a wanderer and… A half-elf? Such a rare duo in these parts.”

“As opposed to?”

“Wait, how did you know I’m a half-elf?” Enne asked.

“I guess since you thought I was a hermit, I’d be blind too,” Sarah answered. “It’s obvious. No normal human would go out with the little clothing you have in this weather. I hear descendants of some elves have skin that protects them from cold climate.”

“Good—point. Oh, dearest Allie can confirm the—”

“Anyway,” Alejandro interrupted. “We wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Why else would anyone visit little ol’ me, anyway?” Sarah responded. “I imagine Robert told you about me. He’s the only one that remembers I’m still here.”

“Y—yes,” Enne answered. “We wanted to know what you knew about the windigo.”

“The town has slowly been dying ever since the windigo attack killed most of the hunters, all but Mr. Winston. Some remained. Many believe the town was cursed, even before that horrific incident. No one is foolish enough to enter the mountainside.”

Sarah remained indifferent to the half-elf’s presence. She fixated on the wanderer, who felt she had something against him. Her behavior seemed cryptic, like having foreknowledge of who he was.

“Please, come in,” she insisted. “I’m sure Alejandro must be cold.”

His smile was met with an unconvincing one as she let them in. The room’s presentation was unassuming at first: Old couches, a table in the center, and a bookshelf close to the kitchen. It wasn’t until they saw the next room over that it caught the duo’s attention. It was a room dedicated to housing unusual artifacts, much from her indigenous roots. Sarah insisted they sat while she made tea. The half-elf leaned against the wanderer as they watched Sarah boil the water.

“How long have you lived out here?” Enne asked.

“All my life,” The elder responded. “My lineage spans generations in this region, long before the Europeans arrived.”

“Wow, roughly a thousand years, then? I’ve read about what happened once the lands were occupied, it was—”

“One can cling to the past for so long. Life is too short to hold a grudge, but….”

“But?” The wanderer asked.

Sarah didn’t respond to him. He thought little of it. Sarah had her reasons, reasons he was curious about. He remembered his title carried the stigma of being a skeptic. The idea of an old Native American mythos being the culprit to the town’s decline seemed strange. He’d experienced much in his travels before meeting Enne. Although the setting was the same, there was certain magic he would’ve ignored otherwise. Sarah set down teacups.

“When those elves invaded,” she continued. “It allowed us to move beyond those godforsaken settlements my ancestors lived in. We did our best to find our footing in the new world, but again, corruption prevailed.”

“How did your ancestors see mine?” Enne asked. Sarah stopped to think about it. Her eyes watered, but she wiped them in a single stroke.

“I didn’t see a difference. But this is beside the point of why you’re here.”

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t be prying into things like that. I don’t know much about how life is beyond where I’m from. You can say I come from a place of privilege.”

“It’s all right, Enne. An old woman such as myself should handle it by now. Humility is a trait many lacks. If I’m not mistaken, half-elves are in a unique place in the natural order.”

“I shouldn’t exist,” Enne said. Her tone changed subtly. “It’s considered sacrilege under Elven Code. If they found out about my current whereabouts, it could lead to bad outcomes.”

“But here you are. Strange how things can manifest. One can create life, but another destroys it. This is a particular point you find yourself in, like destiny.”

“I have my qualms on that… I exist, but sometimes I wonder where I’m going.”

“It would be easier to let go of the past, but it is the past that molds us into the people we are today. Even the lands around us define us, which is why I chose to carry on the legacy of my forefathers. Heritage is vital to the tribe, even if I’m amongst the last of them. This knowledge is all I have to give.”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

The elder radiated a motherly warmth that reminded Enne of her late mother.

“But, to the topic at hand,” Sarah said. “Windigos. There are several variations you’ll hear. I’m sure the wanderer is aware of windigo psychosis, which is when someone loses their mind to severe snow conditions or something along those lines.”

Alejandro nodded.

“Physical transformations are rare, even in the times of my ancestors. You know why that is?”

“Mana?” Enne answered, meeting the side of the old woman’s eye.

“Yes, we called it spiritual energy. If it became too corrupted under harsh conditions, its chances of changing increased. Mana is what the Elves call it, like how Tao describes the same thing in Eastern culture. We all have an interpretation. Hopefully, the wanderer can catch up to this. I imagine he thinks this is just mumbo jumbo.”

“That is,” The wanderer interrupted. “A bit of an assumption, no? I’ll admit. It’s a hard sell for me to think that something supernatural could exist when it seems like they didn’t have this problem before.”

“Allie,” Enne spoke. “It would be more reasonable to look at this more of a natural phenomenon. Many principles between her spirituality and mana overlap. It could help us figure out how to handle it.”

“Wanderer,” Sarah said. “Why are you here?”

Alejandro realized his answer when he glanced at Enne.

“I want to understand this, whether or not I think this is necessary.”

“Knowledge for knowledge’s sake?” The old woman laughed. “Fine! You best learn well from this discussion. I’ve met many wanderers in my days, some handsome, some disgusting, but you’re somewhere in the middle. I can sense it.”

“Sense it?” he asked.

“Mana is more than just energy. It’s a manifestation of your inner self. Unfortunately, mana is looked at from a more—practical interpretation. The Elves acknowledge this, but wanderers see it as tainting a theory. It’s better to look at it from a multifaceted understanding instead of a singular truth. You should know better than most that truth is loosely defined.”

“Please,” Enne spoke. “Don’t patronize him. He’s saved my life many times. He may seem like a dolt, but his heart is in the right place.

She insulted me in real-time, He thought.

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Sarah conceded. “But, for certain, there is a darkness that dwells within you. Your soul is crying for redemption.”

Enne glanced at him. She remembered how he was when they first met. He was in a miserable place, at death’s door. She feared that one day he’d slide back into old habits. The old shaman saw the half-elf’s expression. She knew her love for him went beyond words.

“But, I’m not here for counseling either,” Sara continued. “Windigos are dangerous beings. Their hearts are made of ice, and their physical strength is only rivaled by their voracious hunger. Once someone becomes a windigo, there is no turning back, even if there remains a semblance of their former self.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Enne asked.

“I can tell you’d hesitate if you heard their human voice in the face of their impending death.”

Enne reflected. She accepted it was a possibility. She knew Alejandro wouldn’t have a problem dealing with the death blow. The will to set aside his feelings seemed admirable in that scenario. What if the windigo uttered its sudden pleas? The answer wasn’t as easy for her.

“Their soul must be cleansed with fire,” Sarah said. “Only then can they be laid to rest.”

“They?” The wanderer asked.

“Those lost spirits that fell victim to the beast. They cower from its presence, afraid to move to the afterlife. So, if you hear anything, don’t be alarmed. Let the whispers of the mountain guide you.”





I've always thought the mythos surrounding the windigo rather fascinating. I wanted to tie in the magic system to something more grounded. How does mana affect people and other lifeforms? It was a question that helped give form to why I chose this cryptid over the other... And I've got plenty. Leave a like or feel free to comment!