The Ascent
Kopac turned his tired face upward to where the cascading rock ceased and was outlined by a pale, blue sky. A bitter, biting wind rolled down the mountainside, striking his face with an unrelenting fury. His grizzled visage was caked with dust and, in spite of the chill, marked by lines of sweat that had streamed down in a dozen places. The rough outward appearance belied a youthful interior. Kopac was only seventeen years old, a tender age according to legend. And yet, the lad had already burned up over half of his mortal days.
