Lately, I have had dreams of eternal life. As lord of these lands, I often think to myself, in all my glory and splendor, there is still something that I lack. I see it in the speckles of grey intruding on my black hair. The wrinkles that creep across my face seem to grow slightly longer each time I see my reflection. As I am faced with this reality, I realize: I do not want my reign to end.

My peasants labor for my rice, and my administrators are successful in helping me plan my infrastructure. My land has no shortage of food, and it is due to my diligence. The laws I make have kept this land peaceful, and thus my peasants content. Even those who would wish us harm break against our mighty arms of war.

My children will grow to be powerful, their swordsmanship bested only by the veteran trainers I employ. The merchants buy my crops in exchange for swathes of riches. Even the magical creatures of the land dare not intrude. It is here, at the peak of my glory, that I realize it will one day, come to an end.

I refuse.

My wife tells stories of a demon hidden away. Of a mountain near her homeland with a peak blanketed in fog. At both the base of the mountain and near the top lies a shrine dedicated to an ancient demon. Its home lies within an impenetrable blanket of fog. Every year people migrate across the lands to visit this shrine in respectful worship. An immortal, who has for hundreds of years, existed in solitude. It is rumored that should this creature acknowledge a challenger’s tenacity, the demon will bestow a gift of youth.

It is at this mountain that I will reach a new peak. I will meet this demon. There I will best it in a competition of tenacity. Surely, I will be granted a deserving reward. All to continue my everlasting reign. I will broaden my lands ensuring that all people have opportunities of a golden age— a world ruled by an immortal.

I stop at the base of the mountain and look at the climb ahead. Next to me lies a set of stairs. This is where I will begin the climb. My horses will have to be left here, and only a few of my retainers will join me on the climb. Only my most loyal men are deserving of a reward as great as the one I seek. Unlike the fools before us, who have been content to simply stop at the simple wooden shrine, I will continue up into the fog.

We continue climbing up the smooth stone stairs. Interspersed on either side of us grow towering trees, occasional bamboo, along with fungi and other forest growth. Sometimes I hear a rustle in the flora adjacent as a wind breezes past, while the Binary is easily seen above us. The deep wilderness surrounds us on both sides, but the chiseled stairs are well maintained, and thus there is nothing directly above us except for a broad expanse of sky.

As we climb the mountain, my first advisor climbs the stairs next to me with sweat upon his brow. He asks if we can stop the men for food and rest as I notice a tremor in his legs.

I shake my head, “We have no time for rest, can’t you tell? The Binary is high in the sky, it guides us onward! It’s as if the heavens themselves look forward to our success.”

We continue the climb.

As the Binary begins to set, I realize that we have come very far with neither food nor rest. I hear the men behind me wheeze and tire. Yet we are in a fugue, we can all see the fog far out in front of us, oppressive in its opaqueness. As we creep towards it, I feel the soreness in my feet, the sweat through my clothing, the stabbing pains of hunger and thirst, and yet I think of only one thing: we are almost there.

I look around us, to the men at my back and my chest fills with pride,

“We are almost there! Look ahead! We have gone without rest, but the fog is near!” I point into the distance, where under the light of the moon lies our destination.

I hear cheers from my men, one of them even throwing his helmet high into the air. Their cheers sound weary, but it does not take away from their enthusiasm. My men know that our goal is nigh, after which the need for food and rest will be forgotten as we ascend to something greater.

We continue the climb.

It is deep into the night, yet ahead of us lies our goal. We stand in front of a new shrine, the one at the tip of the mountain. Beyond it lies the fog. It is strange, this fog. It does not begin gradually like I am used to. The fog has a clear starting point— an infinitely long and tall flat wall of grey ahead of me, a single plane both unmoving and completely opaque.

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Pointing ahead I declare, “Look! We are here, and only a step away from beating death forever. I promise vast riches to whoever shall find the demon first!”

My men say nothing, but they have come far and everyone is waiting for rest. I briefly consider allowing it to them, before I remember the importance of continuing forward.

“Onwards!” Without hesitation, I am the first to step into the fog.

I do not look behind me as I continue the climb, my reward so close at hand. I ignore the silence of my lone steps.

It immediately becomes apparent that the professionally carved stairs do not continue into the fog. Whereas before I could see the forest around me, now I see nothing except the mud directly around and under my feet. As I continue the climb, the fog is oppressive in its presence. The only sound is that of my boots slopping into the mud as I traverse the terrain. Direction is completely lost, and the only reason I know I am not going in circles is because of the footprints I leave behind.

Luckily, It does not take long before I feel a presence around me. An intangible weight that resides in the air. I know something watches me, yet I am not afraid.

“Why have you come to my domain?” I hear a voice nearby, whispering, echoing from both near and far– its allure both terribly sweet and achingly bitter. “Normally, people leave me offerings at the shrine. Why have you not done so?”

After the demon finishes, I notice a single cat’s paw through the fog– the rest of its body obscured.

The cold damp fog seeps into my clothes, and I realize I am shivering. “I come to challenge you! I heard that you appreciate tenacity. Thus, I have long thought of a good challenge for you.” As I’m talking, I feel a smile stretch across my face.

“Intriguing.” As it answers, the demon steps forward. Before me is what appears to be a small cat. It is gold in color, with piercing black spots splattered across its coat. It is only slightly larger than a simple barn cat the peasants often dote on. “Very well. And how would you challenge me?” It responds with upturned lips, revealing its fangs in amusement.

I stand up straighter and reply, “I asked my finest blacksmiths to create this. It is only a small measure of the finest craftsmen who work as part of my lands.” I hold out in my palm two long tubes of metal, that have been twisted around each other in a seemingly random pattern. “This- is a puzzle. They are difficult to solve, and require patience to complete.”

The demon turns its head to its right and begins licking its fur. With its head at this angle, it stares at me with a single eye. Despite its mouth having no visible method of speech, I hear its echoing voice nonetheless. “Very well. I will solve the puzzle, but how could I bestow upon you a reward without giving out a challenge myself?”

The cat turns again to approach me, and it slowly walks forward within reach of the puzzle in my outstretched hand. As I bend down to deliver it, the cat opens its mouth. At first, I see the back of a normal cat’s mouth, yet as my eyes adjust, I realize there is no end to it as I cannot help but stare into the endless void as time stretches and bends. After eternity, the cat finally closes its mouth around the puzzle— its lips gently sweeping my hand as it grabs its prize.

Again, I can hear the cat’s voice, even though its mouth holds the puzzle and thus will not open. “Have you seen the top of the mountain? At the top lies a beautiful meadow. It would be a terrible thing if you had to reach it by yourself. Follow me and we will go together.”

With these words, I have a terrible feeling that something is wrong, yet no matter how I wrack my brain, I cannot recall why. The only sound as we continue the climb are those of my boots on the ground, as I watch the dead silent pattering paws of the cat in front of me.

Eventually, the cat stops to turn around and look at me. “Look, can’t you see past the fog?” The cat lifts its paw and gestures ahead of us.

Indeed, ahead of us, I make out a small break in the fog, but it is so far away that it is hard to see. A pinprick of green, perhaps grass, in the distance, with nothing else visible except the fog stretching into an endless tunnel around it.

“I see it, the speck of green over there.” I point forward as I reply.

“Very good. We are almost there, now. Don’t give up on me yet. Reach the green meadow past the fog and I will give you what you seek.”

With this, the cat seemingly disappears into wisps of smoke that vanish into the fog. Surely it will reach the meadow before me to lie in wait.

I continue the climb.

As I walk towards the circle of green, I think it is getting closer; however, the amount the circle increases is so tiny and infrequent that I have doubts about my eyes just playing tricks on me. There are many footprints behind me, and since the circle is still ahead, I am at least comforted by the fact that I am going in the right direction. It would not do me well to stop and turn around now.

I continue the climb.

My boots have long since degraded, but because I have not been hungry, nor thirsty, I know this is not due to the days passing. I will reprimand the leatherworker when I return to my domain— such poorly constructed footwear. After throwing them off my feet, I decide to start counting my steps as a way to pass the time. It will surely not be long now. Just one more step.

I continue the climb, forever up.