A thick fog thickening in the sky covered the mountain ranges of Tandora and numerous cliffs with collapsed boulders. The soles of the shoes, dipping in iridescent silver flooring, etched, leaving deep footprints.
The rays of the sun peeped out through the gray clouds and it was light. It beamed for a moment boldly highlighting impregnable stone wall, blocking Scott’s way, and fleeting disappeared. Scott stopped ten steps from the huge shard of rock. He gradually examined the rock from bottom to top, verifying the distance and put his mighty hand on black as the darkness handle of purple-red katana, rushed forward. He jumped up, in a couple of steps rebounding from the boulders. Moving in the fog with lightning speed, closing his eyes from increased biting wind, suffering excruciating pain in frozen fingers, he clambered overcoming the nullity of his frail body. With an effort of will he prevailed against the weakness, because he knew that the flesh would yield to the spirit, destroying conceivable obstacles, and they will become one. His hands grabbed the edge of the top.
The sky cleared and the sun, not hidden under clouds or the column of rocks, filled Tandrod with saturated cold light and scattered the shadow of the illusoriness and darkness. Rays of light descended to sensory petals of the snowdrop inclined to shyness in front of the huge world. It wanted to blossom and reveal the beauty that was alien to this world, the sweet charm that charms not a soul, subordinate to dead spiritless minds.
Lazy stream of Time flew in an unknown direction without looking back or stopping. Silently, relentlessly, it obediently fulfills its destiny to lead everything alive to the end.
And snowdrop stood bent, surrounded by the whiteness of tombs and disjoined contrast of the village erected long ago for the delight, but then buried in suffering, destroyed by human will and unbridled inexorability of the Governers of the Dark Side.
The flower felt somebody’s presence. The different presence was incomparable to anything else. The presence that inspires the idea of sympathy and admiration for the snowdrop. The feeling was so strange and so obvious that it turned around and saw an incredibly high and a huge man who was on one knee, gazing fixed at it.