Miko:

Throughout the climb, the cycle would change every night I slept, rotating between each limb to ensure that one didn’t receive special attention and look unnaturally larger than the other. Climbing was a more intense workout than I had prepared for. Two weeks of this and my forearms grew in size, and my grip tightened up around the bark’s rough, bumpy surface. If I wanted to, I could place an apple in one of my hands and squeeze it tightly, crushing it into tiny apple bits until only the core remained in my grip. That was what the constant climbing had done to my body, changing my posture and power even in the parts of the body we often ignored. Sure, a grown man could lift a heavy boulder if he dedicated many years to growing his shoulders, back, and biceps — muscle groups that were always defined in books or stories that people like my father would retell, taking time to declare their stock figure and manliness. Most of those men didn’t strengthen their whole bodies, only focusing on the ones that made them look the best or capable of lifting heavy things. Ripping this bark out of the tree would be child’s play for me, but they would have to put more of their body into it to achieve the same result.

I kept climbing, breaking only when necessary, and quickly returning. I’m so close. This should have been impossible; without the healing grace, it probably would be for most. Interesting that this tree will seal its own fate through the gifts it provides. Without them, I would be on the ground training for another year, only to attempt and still die. Yet here I was, now a single day’s travel to the equivalent of a peek. Not the highest point, but most likely the lowest point where I could get off the trunk, which would be enough for me to complete what I came here for. If I climb for a few more hours, I can rest for the night, scout a good path to the branch, and continue on.

Both my legs were good today, and from scouting the area, the lay of the land changes drastically as you get to the colossal branch. Instead of poking out of the tree like a straight cylinder, the bark around the branch that connects to the tree thickened and curved around the base of the connection point so that its weight was better held together. This meant that tomorrow, I would no longer be climbing a straight vertical line. The most challenging part of this whole fourteen-day climb would be ascending the lip to get on top of the branch. Incredibly difficult climbing, the kind you need all your limbs to even attempt. That won’t discourage me. Holding myself up with just one hand, I could hang for a minute; with both hands, I could hang for six minutes in total. That would destroy arms for a while, but it was possible. This gave me hope that I was prepared enough to handle this. This was more like the climbing Maleki did, but it would be the first time for either of us to ascend up a slope that angled towards us.

After sleeping through the night, I woke with both my arms ready and prepared to make the ascent. This was routine now, but I hopped with my single leg, finding a place a few feet above me and grabbing two decent holds to cover my weight. Shifting one hand up into another ridge, I found a new joint to point my toes into and then crossed up with my right. A slow and methodical process, but I had made it this far and wanted to see it until the end. It took me two hours to get close to the branch, resting every fifty feet until the blood rushed back into my arms. The colossal branch was so close, a hundred feet, until I could peer over it. The trunk was beginning to start its slope. At first, it was a light degree of change, like a small ramp. The last fifty feet was the biggest change in the bulk of bark that formed underneath the branch, causing me to angle my body at a forty-five-degree angle just to stay holding on. Jamming my foot into the ridges of bark was the only thing keeping me in place for long enough to grab the next hold.

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My lame leg dangled over the edge of the abyss, dragging my weight down. My hands ached, and my triceps felt like jelly, but I forced myself to keep moving, grabbing another hold two feet above me. The reason I was up here in the first place flashed before my eyes as I felt my grip slipping. In a deep slumber, Maleki lay at the bottom of this blurry void. Still, even if I do this, he might not get better, but I must try. I forced my foot to the side, extending my body to distribute my weight evenly. My left hand found a ridge as my right gave out, almost slipping entirely had it not been for my conditioning training. Holding myself up with one arm, I struggled, reaching for a new ridge for my right hand to grab onto. My right arm was still weak, but even a few moments were enough for the muscle fibers to repair themselves a small amount. Kicking off the part of the trunk my heel was dug into, I grabbed a new hold with my right hand three feet above my head. There would be no more breaks after this small recovery. I couldn’t entirely relax as I was still perched at an angle, but the tree’s bark cut in a small amount, allowing me to grab into the lip of the crevice and hold my weight with my arm and shoulder. A quick rotation between each arm and I was ready to continue, though wary. Every few feet of progress was made by small bursts of energy in my good leg, as it jolted me high enough to safely grab onto a new ledge with one hand, as I was stretched between the farthest point of both my hands. After that maneuver, I found a safe spot in the middle for the arm below the higher one, brought my heel up to a different ridge, and used the lower arm again to move to a higher position. The angle had started to lessen, but now my foot had nowhere to grab onto since I didn’t have an extra one to leverage with. If I had use of all my limbs, I could make the same motion I was doing with my arms by making a small amount of progress with one leg, then switching to the other for another small move, and finalizing with a larger maneuver. Instead, the only thing I could do was disregard my legs entirely while climbing the next ten feet until the flat side of the limb was all that was left, and then I could crawl my way to victory.

Holding up all my weight with just my arms, my shoulders creaked. Thankfully, I had a small frame and was light in weight because this gave my triceps somewhat of an advantage, though it didn’t feel like it as the rest of my body dangled like a caterpillar’s cocoon. Second-guessing every move I made was dangerous, so I was quick and careful when choosing new holds and ridges. The handholds weren’t complex. Grabbing the ridges was just like gripping a bark-covered oddly shaped peg. The blood began leaving my arms as they held out high above me, slowly pulling me up with each ascending grab. This process was slow, but my hand had to quickly find a new ridge before gravity did its thing. The end of the arch was about to end as the bark flattened into a ninety-degree angle. Every part of my arms, shoulders, neck, and back screamed for mercy as I pushed through, inching progress. There was almost no energy left in me to continue. Even if I hung with only one arm, I would only be granted a few moments before the other hand would have to take over, and the rate of return would be too low, resulting in failure. Swinging my leg back and forth beneath me, I managed to get enough of a stretch in to touch below to a small bump of the tree’s bark, kicking off with enough effort to get my foot at around my chest level. My foot found a ridge, stepping through and breaking it, but providing enough exerted energy to shoot me up three or four feet to a dent in the shape of the cylindrical limb. Pulling myself up, I stood tall, like when I would hide behind an opened door, hoping to scare Maleki when he walked by. There was only enough room to be uncomfortably on my feet as I stood on a sturdier lip of bark. Deep breaths took my chest as my fingers curled at my side from the aching in my bones. The top of the branch was only twelve feet away.