“What am I waiting for?” Cillian asked himself as he threw off his pack. He got back to his hands and knees and crawled backward towards the edge. He stuck his leg down over the cliff and searched for a place to rest it. He found it and started to look for a similar spot with his other leg.
The wind was strong and blowing in all directions. It took one strong gust for his leg to slip. Cillian’s upper body was still on the flat ground of the peak, and he gripped hard into it to keep himself from falling. Dread filled him as he felt his legs dangle.
Cillian climbed back up.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said aloud to himself. He dug through his pack and retrieved the metal grappling hook and what remained of his rope. “Good thing I have something just for this.”
Cillian looked around for somewhere to tie the rope down. The entire mountain summit was devoid of any features besides snow, ice, and the occasional rock. Cillian hoped he would have found a tree, or something like the rock outcropping he used before.
I need some way to anchor this.
Cillian looked at the metal hook he held. Then, he started to dig his feet into the ground, dragging it across. He would kick, tap, and drive with his foot. Most of it was ice and snow, and his foot would easily break through and compress the snow.
After a few minutes, he found what he was looking for. Through the snow he felt his foot bump against something jagged. He got down and cleared away the snow with his hands. His hands were cold, but they revealed a crevice in the stone floor. Cillian stuck his fingers in, measuring the width and depth.
This will do it.
He took the grappling hook and dug it into the crevice. Pulling at the rope, Cillian felt it brace hard against the anchor.
He walked to the edge of the cliff and tied the end of the rope around his waist. He climbed down over the edge again. Carefully, he searched with each step for footholds as he descended.
The wind blew strong again, pushing Cillian into the cliff face. Before he let go of the edge, Cillian looked down one more time to see the red cloth. While moving down the cloth’s direction, Cillian let go of the edge and was entirely on the flat cliff face. He glued his body right up against the wall and climbed down at a sluggish pace.
Anxiety permeated through Cillian and he gripped so tight with his fingers that he thought he would break his nails. The wind would make him sway in all directions and the cold was sapping Cillian’s hands of any dexterity.
Just need to get that cloth and I’m done.
He stopped moving and hugged the cliff face, bracing against the violent wind.
“It’s not that far. It’s not that far,” Cillian told himself with his eyes shut. He got the courage to move again.
It was an unfortunate combination of a powerful gust, profusely sweaty hands, and barely missing the foothold, that made Cillian lose his grip on the wall. He went into a free fall while he desperately clutched for anything. He tried to grab the rope, and his hands burned from the friction in their futile attempt to stop his plunge.
Nothing could save him. He plummeted belly down until the rope slack tightened, breaking his fall with a sudden jolt. The entire force of the impact was concentrated in the loop of rope that had rode up to his ribs as he fell.
Cillian heard his ribs crack before he felt it. Blood came out of his mouth and he coughed out more. He tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t enter. His lungs screamed for oxygen and forced shallow quarter-breaths through the debilitating pain.
The shock kicked in, dulling the pain enough for Cillian to do more than just hang limp. He strained his neck, trying to see anything. Out of the corner of his eyes he thought he saw the color red. He struggled and wriggled more so that he could see.
There the red cloth was. The flag that he had been earnestly hunting was right next to him. Just barely in arm’s reach. All Cillian had to do was take it now.
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He ordered his arm to move, but it did not listen. He strained and writhed. His whole body twitched and spasmed, but his arm barely raised. Cillian wanted to scream and shout at his body to move. He was so close.
As soon as he started to move his hands, Cillian felt himself start to be hoisted up. The rope that bound him was now raising him. With great speed, he was pulled up the cliff. He watched as the one thing he journeyed all this way for slipped away from him, or more accurately, he slipped away from it.
Once at the top of the cliff, Cillian felt powerful arms carry him.
“Hell of a thing you did, lad.” Cillian looked up to see the dwarf who gave him this task carrying him. He tried to speak, but only blood came out.
“Don't speak boy, or you’ll kill yourself trying,” Tygus said as he laid Cillian down on the softest patch of snow he could find.
Tygus reached into his coat pocket and brought out a small pink crystal, similar to Cillian’s identification crystal. The difference was that specks of some other orange mineral were littered throughout. He put his palm on Cillian’s forehead.
HP, Tygus spoke in his mind. Immediately a pink screen formed from the crystal he held. It was small and thin, and it only showed two categories of information.
HP: 4/15
Status:
Multiple Lacerations, Critical Organ Damage, Internal Bleeding, Fractured Ribs
Tygus eyeballed the cuts on Cillian’s arms and body, and looked at the squeeze that the rope made around Cillian’s torso. He grabbed the loop that wrapped Cillian and easily tore it with his hands.
“Open wide,” Tygus said as he uncapped a small glass bottle that housed red liquid, identical to the one Cillian had when he first met the dwarf.
Tygus held Cillian’s face to help him open his mouth and poured the bottle’s contents.
“Aye, that’s it boy. You’re not gonna die here,” Tygus said. “Come one, let’s go home.”
He scooped up Cillian back into his arms.
“The…test,” Cillian managed to groan out.
“You killed a damn winter troll, as an Unleveled. As far as I can tell, you did more than just pass,” Tygus said as he took the both of them off the summit.
Cillian’s pain ebbed away, and it was replaced by an overpowering fatigue. He closed his eyes.
***
When Cillian woke up, he saw the furry face of Ravel right up against his nose.
“Ah, the victorious one awakens,” Ravel announced.
Upon hearing this, Tygus quickly entered the small bedroom that housed the recovering boy.
“How are you feeling, boy?” Tygus asked. He stood over the bed Cillian lay in.
Cillian took a moment to feel himself. The back of his arms didn’t burn and his body was not covered in bruises that hurt when touched. He lifted the blanket and saw that he was wearing a white nightgown.
“I’m alive,” he replied astonished.
Tygus laughed. “I used my only two unrestricted health potions on you. Did you really think I would let you die?”
“But how did you know I was in trouble?” Cillian asked.
“I followed you,” Tygus said, realizing he was leaving out crucial details. “We dwarves love our mountains, so I thought it would be a great way to see what you’re made of, but It’s been years since I’ve done any traveling up them uninhabited mountains. I forgot how dangerous they really are.”
He pointed at Ravel.
“You can thank him. After he asked me if it was a good idea to send you, I realized you were far from ready. But, you were already gone by that time. So I went after you and saw how you carried that nymph back to her river. After that, I decided I would let you keep going.”
Cillian was silent. “So the cave, that was you?”
“Yes boy, you were dragging bags of rocks till you collapsed. If I left you there, you would have frozen to death. You were so damn determined. There were many times I wanted to pull you out, but I just had to see if you would keep going,” Tygus said. “Then you had the balls to go toe to toe with a troll, and you won,” he continued in a bewildered tone.
“So, what now?” Cillian asked.
“You’re strong, boy. In here,” Tygus tapped Cillian’s chest where his heart was. “But now I am gonna show you how to get truly strong.”
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Image [https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/981697600023560262/1010311652182335560/Bulvos_climbing_down_a_mountain_with_rope_snowing_25967b8f-4393-42f0-b0d9-70466bcfc656.png?width=585&height=585]
Preparation for the precarious climb