Amid the sprawling desert, there is one item that stands out as unique.

A mountain, as tall as can be and covered in lush foliage, breaks the otherwise bleak horizon. Appearing to be a pillar towering past the clouds, and separate from any visible chain of mountains, this mountain is the object of worship of many of the surrounding populations.

Legend has it that long ago (perhaps a thousand years, perhaps ten thousand years), the entire world resembled that mountain, lush and vibrant as it was. Legend also stated that the mountain suddenly grew from the ground in a matter of moments years ago. Yet another legend stated that the mountain was a god that protected the locals.

And another legend… Well, the point has been made. This mountain was shrouded in mystery.

Investigations into the mountain had been made; none were successful.

Of course, there were those who were adventurous enough to explore the mountain and its surroundings, and there were those who were jealous of the green scenery, wishing to make it their home. But, despite many attempts to settle the mountain, no civilization has ever succeeded, for the mountain was not as habitable as it seemed on the outside.

It was green, that was for certain, but the terrain was atrocious. Perhaps better described as a cliff than a mountain, every face was sheer, and level areas were few and far between. Only the occasional crack in the face here and there provided relief for those who dared to climb.

Due to the high death rate of those who scaled it, the surrounding communities had grown to fear and respect this mountain, and the number of daring climbers had reduced in the past few years.

However, it was said that a small number of people had been able to ascend the mountain, all of whom were from that walk of life: “The Workers.”

Simply put: Workers were super-human. Raised on the essential Energy of the world, they possessed physical and Spiritual abilities beyond the imagination.

Yes, it would be that group who could scale this mountain. Apparently, through some mysterious methods beyond the comprehension of normal people, Workers could run on water, walk on walls, or even fly. This sort of ability would make scaling a mountain trivially easy…

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

A young girl, lost in her thoughts, stared out of the window towards the mountain visible in the distance. She only snapped out of this reverie when she heard her name called:

“Azazel, wake up! Quit daydreaming and hand me the bottle of Ruut from under the counter. You know my back isn’t like it used to be.”

“Then why don’t you move the extra bottles somewhere else, somewhere you can reach easily.” The girl countered her mother.

“Because I like making you work. Maybe when you grow a little taller, I will really have to move them.” The girl was still very young, with much more time to grow.

“Anyways, how do you even get the bottles when I am not here to help?”

“I bend over and pick them up!”

“I knew it! You are able to get at them! I will not pick up even one more for you!”

“Of course you will, because I need another right now.”

The bantering between this child and her mother was quite famous in the town. Even now, the regulars at the bar were chuckling at their interaction.

And of course, Azazel obediently handed over another bottle of their homemade Ruut.

Her mother’s wrinkled hands expertly uncorked, portioned, and served the entire bottle. The Ruut of their little bar was quite popular in their town, and their regulars could never have enough of it. In fact, the biggest complaint towards their bar was that they did not serve by the bottle!

The curious little Azazel had wheedled the recipe out of her mother long ago, but the process of making this Ruut was tedious. Even with two sets of hands, they could not sell it in large volumes. Even the relatively small standard portion was not cheap.

Azazel watched as her mother hobbled around the bar serving customers and making conversation.

Her mother was such a lively woman. Her bright smile, attentiveness, and amazing conversation skills had won her many regulars in this bar that they ran. She used to be so energetic and bubbly, a radiant personality that lit up the room. And yet, it seemed she was cursed.

Azazel first noticed that something was not quite right with her mother several years ago. Her mother, at the age of twenty-seven, began to grow white hair.

Her mother played it off at first, saying that it was the stress of running a bar, or that it was her natural hair color, or any number of excuses, and refused to visit the doctor.

But Azazel began noticing more and more symptoms as time went on.

Her father was a hard worker, always bustling here and there as a used wagon salesman (though, he always had time to spend with Azazel and his wife), and her mother usually took care of her during the day. As a result, Azazel spent more time at the bar with her mother; she had more time to notice her mother’s decline.

Wrinkles, weakness, fatigue, waning eyesight, and grey hair. None of her mother’s friends showed these symptoms, so why did she? Are these not symptoms that should manifest fifty years from now?

Even her young, twelve-year-old self noticed that something was definitely wrong with her mother. Azazel was helpless, and all she could do was to make her mother as comfortable as she possibly could, hoping that resting would slow the advance of the disease.