The top of the cold and windy North Peak.
He stood on the top of the mountain against the howling wind.
The black robe was blown up by the wind and swayed randomly against the clouds in the sky. He stood motionless. Waiting for the person who should come.
Sunset under the west mountain.
Sunset, slanting red.
He turned around, a black veil covering most of his face, and his eyes were filled with stars.
The time has come.