It was with those words that my promise began to hurt.
Each step tore a crunch from the mud beneath my boots, and the echo of my advance was lost in the mountain like a foreign heart, beating in the darkness.
The path, twisted, opened between roots that tangled in my feet and stones that tore my skin.
The air was cold, each breath reminded me how alone I was.
I felt my spirit cracking, as fragile as my body, ready to break into pieces with the slightest stumble. However, I kept going.
The pain, sharp and constant, was the only thing that anchored me to the present, the only proof that I had not yet yielded.
There was no one, only a sharp whistle resonating like a lament, lost in the solitude of the mountain.
As I ascended, the air became denser, as if I were swallowing liquid lead.
The burning in my legs and chest suffocated my determination.
After hours of climbing, with broken nails and numb fingers, I finally found a plateau.
I let myself fall on a damp rock, panting like a wounded animal. I drank warm water, with a taste of dirty oxide.
It didn't matter. It was refreshing.
I looked at my hands: stained and full of cuts.
An involuntary tremor shook my forearm, a brief and stubborn jolt, as if my body was about to surrender along with my will.
—What's the point of this...?
I squeezed the bottle until it deformed, with pale knuckles.
—Would a god really come down to help someone like me...? —I murmured, followed by a bitter laugh.
—A misery...
My hands clung to my hair, pulling it with a desperation I didn't recognize, as if I wanted to uproot guilt and fatigue.
—Why...?, Why do I always seek the pleasure of error?
I felt my legs going numb, yielding to comfort.
—Shit... shit... shit, shit, shit, SHIT!
I hit my thighs with fury, fists trembling, begging my body not to abandon me. Pain ran through me like a whiplash, and between choked sobs, I forced my legs to stand up, to continue, even though everything in me screamed to give up.
I seemed to have forgotten how to walk, I doubted as I did it, doubted with each step. I clenched my jaw with such force that my clenched teeth hurt. I didn't look back. I knew that with the slightest hesitation, everything would collapse and I wouldn't have the strength to try again.
I didn't know what awaited me at the summit. I only had Lee and Rinn's voices resonating in my head, repeating over and over, like a prayer or a condemnation, the word "Climb".
The sky began to close, a belly of black clouds pressing over my head, so low that I felt their weight on my shoulders. I didn't know if it was the altitude or the storm forming above me, but a shiver ran down my back. It was the certainty that something was waiting for me at the summit, something with a name.
A root tangled in my foot and precipitated me to my knees against the ground. I felt the tearing of my skin instantly; blood flowed and mixed with the damp earth, forming a thick red mud that adhered to my palms and got under my nails.
The pain was sharp, a real burning.
I remained motionless, trembling, with my heart beating hard against my ribs and my throat contracted.
The wind, icy and harsh, carried away my sigh, or perhaps my lament, and dissipated it among the branches, dragging with it the last vestiges of pride and strength that still sustained me.
—Am I here for a promise, or simple denial?, hehe... sounds like something Mian would say...
When I finally reached the summit, I found a silent clearing, open to the void.
The city stretched below, distant, unrecognizable, barely a blink of lights in the distance.
In my memories, Lee talked a lot about this place, he always asked me to climb with him, to see the city at night and its unique brightness. But I refused, and now look at me, I couldn't enjoy this with my friend.
—The city always seems like it's daytime. Marl, when we climb you'll get to know the stars.
—Lee, of course I know the stars, they're the white dots in the sky.
When I told him that, his gaze almost closed. As if he felt sorry for me.
—In this city it rains a lot... you always see a gray and polluted sky. —a smile appeared on his lips. —When we go up you'll know the brightness of darkness.
But my eyes couldn't see that beauty. I reached the summit, but the sky remains just as gray.
—The Milky Way... I can't see it...
I stood still. I waited for something. Anything. Even if it was a mute echo of that beauty. But that wish was not granted to me.
—I didn't come for that.
I took a couple of steps toward the center. The cold air hit my face like a slap. I closed my eyes, filled my lungs and, with all my strength:
—Edgar! I'm here! —I shouted Lee's last words, my voice torn, broken by the wind.
I raised my eyes to the sky, looking for a sign among the dark clouds.
I found nothing.
Only the echo of my voice, fading into the night.
I fell to my knees instantly, feeling how my arms fell on the mountain earth. Cold sweat mixed with the rain that began to fall, first like a tickle on the nape of my neck, then spreading across my shoulders and back.
The water slid down my face, sticking hair to skin, dragging away the dust and salt of tears that wouldn't fully come out.
—Edgar!... Edgar... please... answer!
The rain became more intense, each drop hitting my jacket, arms, the earth around me.
The cold crept under my clothes, making my skin bristle and penetrating to the bone.
I hugged my sides, shoulders hunched, head bowed, trembling.
—I'm an idiot, why would a god be interested in me?
I had my fingers sunk in the earth, nails full of mud and blood.
I rested my face against the wet mud, shoulders shaken by a tremor I couldn't control.
The sound of my sobs was lost among the incessant patter of the storm.
I felt the cold, the dampness stuck to my skin, the persistent trembling in my muscles.
The weight of the night pressed upon me, making me smaller, more vulnerable.
And I, alone, kneeling with my face in the mud, waiting for an answer that didn't come.
Words formed in my mind:
The gods have ignored me.
Their silence was their only answer, their only dry answer.
At that moment, from behind me, with the tiny clicking of small steps stepping in puddles of water, I heard how someone or something approached.
Without hope of turning, my neck moved by instinct.
And there, under the rain, barely covered by a blue umbrella, stood the figure of a green-haired child.