In the Hyleian mountain range, a henchman in a black body suit scaled the tallest mountain. Tidas didn’t have the appropriate climbing gear because he thought he was a hotshot who didn’t “need no stinkin’ climbing gear.” It wasn’t until he was halfway up that he began to regret his life decisions. He didn’t anticipate the steepness with which he’d have to contend. To get this job, he bragged about being a master climber and how no mountain could ever pose a challenge. He wished he’d kept his mouth shut. If he had, he wouldn’t be out there risking his life for a trinket.
Tidas wasn’t aware why this trinket was so important or even what it was. It had better be worth it, he thought to himself. If someone went to such lengths to put the shiny thing at the top of this mountain, it might be dangerous. Should he have asked for more money from his employers?
Tidas’ body ached as he climbed. He should have stretched before undergoing this herculean task. Each muscle cried out in pain the further up he went. He tried to think beyond the pain. He believed pain was just weakness leaving the body. But with each tier he climbed, his body threatened to break down and collapse. He pushed himself past the pain and kept going. The cold winds and thinner air didn’t make things any better for him. He tried to convince himself that the brisk air was refreshing, but after twenty minutes of unrelenting wind, he soon decided that the wind was for the birds.
Upward he climbed. He looked up toward the summit of the mountain and saw a dark opening. It had to be about ten to fifteen yards from his current location. He felt his body begin to relax as the end was in sight, but he steeled his strength and kept the urgency in his muscles to keep going.
Thirty minutes later, Tidas finally made it to the ledge of the opening. Once the last leg was over on flat land, he collapsed and laid on his back, panting, taking great big gulps of thin air. He’d done it. He’d scaled the largest mountain in the Hyleians. He couldn’t wait to brag to everyone back at the Reveling Horseman Tavern. This would earn him the respect of his peers and even a couple rounds of drinks. Then he thought for a second and remembered that bragging got him into this mess in the first place. Maybe it would suit him to shut the hell up for once.
He laid on the ledge for a good ten minutes before he found the strength to stand up again. His legs wobbled unsteadily for a few seconds until he stabilized himself.
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He stared deep into the darkness of the cave entrance and gulped. Beyond it stood some kind of shrine he was tasked to find. That was where the trinket rested. He didn’t like the darkness. It reminded him of his childhood fear of something monstrous lurking in the shadows, just waiting to gobble him up. He wished he had the foresight to bring a light source with him. With another gulp, he ventured into the darkness.
He slowly stepped forward blindly, groping at the cave walls. He cautiously put his left foot out to test for traps or a sudden drop. Afraid to trigger a weight trap, he put the least amount of weight on his feet as he tiptoed through. The darkness seemed to be thick as pea soup. He imagined it congealing around him, enveloping him like a blanket, only it was cold and wet instead of warm. The sooner he got to the shrine and got out of there the better.
The cave took a slight right turn before it came to an abrupt end. He stumbled onto the shrine and fell backward. From the feel of the impact, the shrine was only waist high and made of stone, possibly carved from the mountain itself. He sat up and felt around. To him, it felt like a shelf. There were small objects on each of the landings, but he wasn’t able to discern what they were. They didn’t feel too important, though he didn’t know if the target object felt any different.
He finished fondling the figures on the lower landings and moved up to the top of the shrine. That was when he found the desired object resting on it. He moved his fingers along the statuette. It was smooth and cool to the touch. The shape was hard to figure out. What was it supposed to be? There were a lot of curls, maybe tentacles? He imagined the shape of an octopus. From the tentacles he felt there was a smooth and curvy protrusion. A tail? He couldn’t envision what in the world this was. What would his employers want with a statuette of an octopus? Was this really worth almost dying for? He shrugged and took the statuette from the shrine and placed it in his little fanny pack.
He waited for a brief moment to see if he had triggered a trap. He listened for a click or a snap, but only the sound of the wind outside was heard. He was scared to let his guard down, but after five minutes of inactivity, he decided that if he was going to die, something would have happened by now. He finally felt safe enough to let out the breath he was holding. He stepped away from the shrine and followed the curve to the cave opening.
He stepped to the edge and looked down. He couldn’t see the ground below because of the clouds obscuring the view. He took a deep breath and prepared for the trek down. He knew going down was easier than going up, but that was the problem. If he wasn’t careful, he could reach the bottom much quicker than he planned. May the gods be with him.