The mountain was covered by a blanket of mist and dark clouds. The rain softly tapped against the ground and the only sound was whispers coming from the Indigenous Forest. “They call this mountain the spire of Devil’s Peak,” Raine said showing Kayla the path.
“No one has ever ventured this high and the ones who did never made it out alive.” She explained.
“Is that why they decided to stay hidden in the mountain?” Kayla asked and Raine nodded.
“Also because of some rumour,” Raine answered. Kayla frowned.
“The people who come around here speaks of a folklore of a man and wife who used to live at the foot of the mountain. The husband was a prodigious pipe smoker and whenever he wanted to smoke his wife would ask him to go outside. One day while smoking on the slopes of the peak, he met
