Beneath the snow-capped mountains,


    Two figures in thick winter coats stood on the endless stone steps, their shapes blurred by swirling flurries.


    M wore a striking crimson coat, while Archie was dressed in bright yellow. Both had swapped out their old clothes for new, heavier coats and pulled wool hats over their ears before renting a car and making the long drive out here.


    After a restful journey, they were full of energy.


    "Let''s go," Archie said, bounding up the first step with a confident, infectious grin.


    M smiled back. "Alright, let''s do it."


    Though it was April, snow still fell on these hignds where winter never truly ended. Bathed in flying snow, their shoulders dusted with white, they climbed the steps together.


    At the summit, beyond the long staircase, stood a church.


    M hadn''t chosen one of the many chapels scattered throughout Sris City. Instead, she''d set her heart on this secluded church, hidden deep within the mountains.


    She''d wanted toe here from the very first moment she saw it.


    At the start, the twoughed and chatted about funny stories from their journey. As they climbed higher, their words grew fewer, the wind biting at any exposed skin and draining their warmth. Thankfully, the car ride up the mountain had spared them altitude sickness, but the cold was another matter.


    They soon fell into silence, saving their breath and strength for the climb.


    After a while, Archie nced up. Far above, the church''s gilded steeple gleamed


    in the sunlight, its gold roof shining through the storm. He stopped mid-step, momentarily lost in the sight.


    M paused too, looking at him in confusion. "What is it?"


    Archie hesitated. "Hey, M... do you remember why I insisted oning with you?” He gazed up at the church, voice quieter now.


    Of course she remembered.


    It was because of thatic book, *The Adventures of Red Hat*. Archie was convinced she was the artist-Daphne. He wanted to see the story end well, for Red Hat the robot to survive and finally reach the moon, so he''d followed her here.


    M started to respond, but Archie cut her off gently. “It doesn''t matter anymore.” She froze.


    Archie looked at her, for once all mischief gone from his face. His eyes were bright, reflecting the golden sunlight, alive with sincerity.


    "M," he said, "promise me you''ll be happy. You have to live well-a hundred times better than before."


    She hadn''t expected this. For a moment, M could only stare. Then, without warning, Archie plopped down on the snowy step, facing back down the mountain. His next words were firm and final.


    "I''m tired. I''m done. Not going any further."


    "You..." M stood on the step above, eyes stinging with tears she wouldn''t let fall. Words caught in her throat; she understood his meaning.


    His journey was over.


    From here, it was her path alone-the rest of the climb, the destination ahead, all belonged to her. Archie would not be joining her any further.


    The wind howled around them. M stepped down to where Archie sat, crouched in front of him, and reached out.


    She lifted her hand and, with her finger, gently traced something onto his forehead.


    Archie closed his eyes, feeling the slow, deliberate lines. It was simple-just two curved strokes, easy to remember.


    "What did you draw?"


    "A symbol."


    "What kind of symbol?"


    "You mean you don''t know? I''m not telling." Mughed softly, then wrapped him


    in a gentle hug. "Thank you, Archie. Thank you for saving me... for being with me. I felt safe having you by my side."


    ...


    Snowshed the mountainside.


    M climbed the steps alone, her solitary figure moving upward. Behind her, Archie remained seated, unmoving. Then, suddenly, he looked back.


    With his head tilted up into the blinding sunlight, Archie watched M''s crimson coat receding into the white-a single vivid color in a world of snow.


    A figure apart, entirely her own.


    He watched for a long time, hand pressed to his forehead, smiling through the tears that sprang to his eyes.


    "That symbol..." he murmured.


    How could he not know?


    From the start of their journey, he''d read every travel guide he could find, learning


    all he could about the customs of the hignds. Of course he knew.


    It was a local tradition: the symbol drawn as a charm, a wish for good fortune and protection, for safe travels and happiness, for a long and blessed life.