The darkness of the night was complete. He managed to make it to the mansion without being seen by it's inhabitants.
The wind had masked all sound of footsteps or cracking twigs.
The same wind that prevented him from hearing his own labored breathing. He stared into the crystal walls that housed the final phase of his journey. His destiny.
He could see his ghostly pale reflection through his hood, on the onyx glass. The wind whipped his long coat around his body, his sword at his side.
The light that shone out from within whispered out his name, called to be in his possession. He placed his cold fingers on the colder glass drawing closer to the barrier, watching his breath fogging up his view.
The wind masked his longing moan, as he looked back at his trail.
The same wind that muffled the yells of the guardians he put to death, the swords he shattered. Yet he could hear even the slightest sounds of their blood dripping off his coat and onto the marble porch. He could hear the insects and other crawlers that watched him warily from the trees, their squeaks and scurries halted as they held their breath.
He could hear the cautioning words of his mentor, declaring his goal impossible. His response to this was the same that everyone received, it was inevitable. And now, he could hear the cries of the many who perished where he had succeeded.
He managed a weak grin as he remembered his mentors defeated expression.
And yet here he was, three feet away from his acquiring his deepest desire, three feet and countless days of torment, away. He looked at the skies, staring at the moon through the ominous floating mist that cloaked the stars. He cringed as he removed his gaze from the bright light and took a deep breath.
With one last glance at the ethereal glow that emanated from inside, he turned away, slipping his sword into its scabbard and disappeared back into the darkness.