The air at the foot of the hill was thick with fine ash that clung to skin and hair, staining everything with a grayish veil.
Vaemor Xhaelarys felt the heat intensify, not like a living flame, but like a fever settling in his bones.
With each step, the murmur of the earth seemed to transform into a low, rhythmic rumble... like the heartbeat of something living.
The climb began slowly.
The black stones of the hill were smooth, almost polished, as if worked by human hands... or by much older claws.
Aerys Qhaedros, examining the marks in the rock, murmured,
"This is not the work of nature. Someone made this place look dead... but it is not."
Halfway there, the burning mist dissipated enough to reveal what awaited above:
A series of statues arranged in a circle, each in the shape of a winged dragon, its jaws gaping, its eyes carved with such detail that they seemed to follow the group's movements. There were twelve in total, each the size of a man, but with a presence that weighed more than any living creature.
Zaryon Velquarys was the first to notice the faint glow emanating from their jaws.
"They're not just stone," he said, taking a step back. "This... is alive in another way."
Rhaedor Vorys narrowed his eyes.
"Anchoring magic. I've heard of it... guardians that don't need to move to fulfill their function."
Maekor Dravion, his hand on the hilt of his sword, stepped forward to gauge the reaction.
As soon as her foot touched the imaginary line separating the path from the circle, the statues exhaled an invisible breath.
It wasn't fire, nor smoke... but a wave of heat and pressure that made the air crackle.
Kaelyth Thalmyx felt her muscles tense involuntarily, as if her body wanted to stop.
"They're testing us..." she whispered. Vaemor didn't take his eyes off the statues.
"They don't want to kill us. Not yet."
She bent down, scooped up a handful of ash, and dropped it in front of one of the figures. The ash was swept into the gaping maw by an invisible current, as if it were being sucked in.
"They're breathing," she said, and that single word made everyone grit their teeth.
The climb grew heavier.
There was no wind, and yet each step seemed to crash against an invisible barrier that grew stronger as they approached the circle.
Aerys, sweating, pulled a pendant with a teardrop-shaped stone from his belt.
"We can break the current," he said, beginning to chant an ancient verse in Valyrian.
The statues responded. Their once-opaque eyes began to burn with a golden glow.
Waves of heat transformed into vibrations that shook the ground beneath their feet. Zaryon shouted, "Quickly, before they finally wake!"
The race was an act of faith.
Between the heat, the pressure, and the low roaring that grew in their ears, the world narrowed to a single goal: to cross the circle before the statues decided to close the path forever.
Maekor, shielding Kaelyth with his arm, crossed the line first. A burst of energy coursed through the ground, sending the ash swirling.
As they crossed, the heat abruptly dissipated.
The statues remained motionless, but their eyes still burned, watching their every move.
In the distance, the fifth tower rose in all its splendor: taller than any of the previous ones, clad in black stone with crimson veins that seemed to burn from within.
Vaemor, breathing heavily, said without turning around:
"They haven't stopped us... because they want us to go in."
And with that feeling, they began the last stretch toward the tower's entrance.