You get a move on

Satisfied with your inspection in the mirror, you hoist your backpack onto your shoulders and head out. You don't stop to look to your mother as you leave - if you do, you know that you won't leave on time.

As you step into the mid-autumn chill, shielding your eyes from the sun, you can't help but admire the view of the village that your separated home affords you - the buildings and smoke stacks almost seem to be charming from here. And, more importantly, you're not downwind of the village, so you never have to smell them. Seriously - have they never heard of hygiene!?

You yourself to focus on the matter at hand, and turn away from the village to regard your destination.

The Windless Mountain looms in the distance. It earned the name from the odd phenomenon of there never being any wind on it, and thanks to its gentle slopes, it quickly became a destination for dipping one's toes into the world of amateur rock-climbing.

You take a deep breath, pushing it all out of your nose in an anxious puff of air. Your destination lies where most, if not all, people dare not venture - the cave that sits at around the halfway point, which a reclusive dragon has called home. And what may possibly be the last chance save your mother.

When you asked in the village about going there, you were, of course, ridiculed. And despite your distaste for the people here...you can't say you blame them.

You go over the plan in your head again, still wondering if it's sane. You're going to get up that mountain, walk into a hermit dragon's lair, which hasn't bothered anyone or anything for the two hundred years that it's lived there, and has only killed and eaten wild animals and monsters, and ask for it to lend its eldritch knowledge to you to attempt to find a cure for your mother's ailment, which has yet to be cured by Elves or humans.

And especially not by the humans of this settlement - they were all convinced that it was a "Wasting Ghost". A myth that was already proven to be non-existent at least two decades ago, when the Elves discovered that elderly humans were susceptible to degenerative diseases that could leave them as husks of their former selves.

And you'd be willing to accept that your mother's condition was just this degenerative disease. However, the Elves immediately found a cure for that, especially for the early-onset variations of the disease. And given the connections both you and your father have with them, they would have gladly cured it, if it was indeed such a disease. The best they could do, however, was provide the life-support system that now keeps her attached to life by a string.

Your blood boils as your mind lingers on the situation you now find yourself in. It's all the fault of your father. You will never know why, but the moment your mother started to display these symptoms, without any way to cure her, he had sent the two of you away to live in this backwater, shithole of a town. All so he could stay in the city and play Noble while you watch your mother die.

You need to take a moment to calm yourself. You need to have a level head for this. It is the farthest into these woods you've ever gone - and the first time you'll ever be climbing that high.

Filled with trepidation, you take your first step towards the Windless Mountain, and hopefully, towards a cure for your mother.