mountain – Vostak

The Valley – Part 2

The sky was like a canvas for the sunrise. Tendrils of orange spread across the clouds whilst rays of gold pierced through them and bathed the white mountain peaks with light. The morning mist lay over the earth and a slight breeze tugged at the trees. The sun looked over the mountains in the east as dawn made its way west. Birds chirped, chattered, and trilled. Below the cliff, a mother deer and her fawns came to the stream for water.

Sevir was surrounded by otherworldly sights and sounds, but he didn’t get to enjoy the setting for long. He had to pack up and keep moving while the sun was up. A thought to kill the deer for food crossed his mind, but he decided against it. He still had a quail wrapped up in his pack, and the deer was far more meat than he could eat or carry with him.

It took some time for Sevir to solve his dilemma. He didn’t have many options for how to keep moving forward. He could double back the way he came along the ledge, which would take him half of the day. The nearest treetop was about ten feet below the edge of the terrace. He could try jumping down to it and then climbing down the tree, which would surely be suicide. His one remaining option was to climb up to the top of the cliff and continue from there. It looked to be a thirty or forty foot straight upward climb. The cliff face was jagged enough that it could be possible. But if Sevir got stuck halfway up with no proper footrest, he could be stranded up there.

After several minutes of consideration, Sevir resolved to take the risk and scale the cliff. Long story short – he survived. Though the climb was perilous and there was many a moment when he thought that he was surely doomed. When he reached the top, he marveled at the sights. To the south was familiar territory – the mountain-side he trekked before reaching this canyon. To the west, he saw the other side of the canyon, and the side of the mountain which it carved through. In the east, Sevir couldn’t see much save for the woods right before him, and the mountain up above. But when he turned north, Sevir couldn’t believe his eyes. The canyon continued on northward, and the stream at its base. A few miles ahead, however, they passed inbetween two mountains. Beyond these two mountainsides Sevir saw a glimpse of what lay beyond.

Unknown to the villagers living just fifteen miles south of it, hidden in the mountains was a large bountiful valley. Sevir was stunned. All his life he had been told that the North Mountains completely covered the land north of their village for a hundred miles or more. But now he saw, with his own eyes, that there was yet much to be found and explored. So, his eyes full of wonder, his heart filled with excitement, and his belly full of game, he continued his journey towards the valley.

The Valley – Part 1

The sun was beating down upon the mountaintops. The snow capped peaks gleamed and shimmered above a sea of fog. Or was it clouds? One would not be able to tell. This was not so much a mountain range, as simply a land of mountains. From a bird’s eye view, it was all mountains to the east, north, and west, save for a large valley to the north. Of course, Sevir saw none of this. He was making his way through the mountains along a narrow cliff. All he saw was the stream far down at the bottom, his feet on the narrow ledge, the cliff face before him, and the crevices in which he placed his hands.

Sevir felt his pulse in his head and his heart pounding in his chest. He constantly had to adjust his grip because his hands were sweaty. His arms and feet felt heavy. His breath was weak and unsteady. He felt as though he could fall already. Though just moments ago, he thought that he was ready to scale the cliff. As he crept along the ledge, Sevir tried his best to occupy his mind. His thoughts carried him off of the cliff, out of the mountains, and back to the village he once called home.

Many called Sevir a fool for leaving his village, which was nestled under the Great Mountains. It had been common wisdom for centuries that there was nothing beyond the mountains but more mountains. Sevir, however, figured that he had no choice. Though there was much space to build new homes, there was no room for Sevir in the village. Not anymore.

Over the span of a few years, Sevir observed the Head Council become skewed and misguided in their thinking. Faithful laborers were ignored and cast aside in favor of agreeable yes-men. Decisions were made not to benefit the village’s families but for the ego and pride of those in charge. Though the Head Council claimed otherwise, it was clear that everything they did served no purpose other than gaining more resources and growing in their status. Perhaps, on the surface, it appeared that the village was prospering. Growing more into a town than a village. But in Sevir’s eyes, even if the village really was growing, it was all for the wrong reasons.

It came to a point that Sevir decided he had had enough. He figured that he would rather risk his life in search of a different home for his family than continue serving those that had abused him and others in their bid for glory. And so, Sevir found himself in the mountains. He was cold, he was hungry, and he was afraid. Yet he pressed on.

He slowly shimmied along until he reached a point where the ledge came to a natural rocky terrace. It overlooked the stream and greenery below. Though far safer than what came before it, it was a small opening and didn’t lead anywhere. How he would continue, Sevir had no idea. He decided to rest and spend the night at this spot as he figured that a solution might come to him in the morning. In the meantime, he was content to eat a morsel of bread and enjoy the view.

The Prey

Dalibor bent over to catch his breath. His throat felt ragged, as though the air was scratching it. His heart was pounding in his chest, his head was spinning, and his calves were burning. He let his bag drop off of his shoulder and sat down next to it on the ground, which was all a coarse black rock. It came out of the mouth of the cave and extended down the slope. There were no trees, no brush, no grass near the cave. Only the black rock and a dry red soil. The rest of the mountain below was all dirt, rock, ash, and withered trees. Far down the slope, at the foot of the mountain, there was a dense forest. It could not be seen from where Dalibor was, however, as there was a thick fog over the mountain.

As Dalibor’s breath evened out and his mind cleared, he began to scan his surroundings. The mouth of the cave at which he sat was a little shy of ten meters in height. It was so dark inside that he only saw a bit of the entrance. The surrounding stone was charred. Higher up the mountain, the stone was smooth and almost aglow. The peak stood out amongst the rest of the mountain range as the other mountains were all snow-capped. It was unusual, but not surprising to Dalibor. He felt the heat coming from within the mountain as he sat on the ground. As he moved his hand along the rock, he felt tremors, as though a mighty beast stirred within the mountain.

Though the rock was warm, Dalibor felt a chill come over him. His eye twitched, his knees felt weak, his neck stiffened, and his breath got caught in his throat. His heart was gripped with a terror he had never felt before. It was clear now that his quarry was far mightier than he expected. In all his years of hunting, he had never had a thought such as the one he did now: “Perhaps I might become the prey today.”

He stood up shakily and gripped his bow. With the other hand, he grabbed an arrow from the quiver at his hip and nocked it. As he did so, a rumble started to rise from within the cave, as though a growl. It was clear: the beast was aware of Dalibor’s presence. He figured that if he tried to run, it would pursue and kill him. He had only one choice – to fight the terror and slay it.

A foul smell met him as he entered the cave. He moved quickly, as though trying to escape his fear with speed. He realized that he had forgotten his bag, but it was too late now. He pressed on. Dalibor had to meet the beast where it didn’t expect it and take his shot before it made its move.

It was pitch black in the cave, but Dalibor had hit his mark in such conditions before. As he shuffled through the labyrinth, he listened closely for any sounds the beast could make. It was hot and moist in the tunnels. The trickle of water could be heard almost as clearly as the gnashing of teeth and scraping of claws. As the sounds became louder, Dalibor took his stance and drew a deep breath. The beast approached him from behind a row of stalagmites. He exhaled, took a half breath, turned towards the sound of slithering and snarling, and took his shot.

Dalibor could not see what happened, but he heard it. First, the twang of his bowstring releasing. Next, the sound of metal striking metal. Then a knock, as of wood hitting a rock. Finally, a rustling and a feint rumble. After all of this, he saw a bright orange light coming from behind a row of big black teeth. For one moment, Dalibor saw his foe. Then he was covered in flame.