Man of the Mountain

Lightning crashed and thunder roared across the landscape. I sat in a cave watching the rain pour down while I held my hands over a small fire. I had found this cave twenty minutes before the rain came and had decided to hunker down for the night. Unfortunately it was really just a small hole cut into the side of the mountain. If it started flooding I'd be in a bad place really fast. Thankfully though the rain just washed down the mountain and was gone come the morning.

As I stepped out of the cave into the early morning sunlight I took in the view. I was around three thousand feet up on the mountain. From here I was able to get a view of the valley below where I had started this journey. That had been two days ago now and the climb had been slow going. There wasn't really a path so to speak so I had to move slowly. I had to complete this journey for the sake of everyone back home. If I didn't we'd all be dead within the year.

I stretched a little trying to get limber for today's walk up. After stretching I now turn and look up the mountain taking in just how far I still have to go. I can't even see the top yet. Taking a moment to check through my bag I realize I'm starting to run low on both wood and food. At this rate I'll run out of both before I get to the top of the mountain. That just meant I would have to climb faster. Having checked through everything, I find the best handholds that I am able to and start climbing. My fingers thankfully were already quite calloused from all the other trials I had faced just getting to this mountain. So the sharp rocks cutting against my fingers were but minor annoyances at this point. Though my feet protested a bit more.

I climbed slowly making sure that I had a firm grip each time before pushing up. Any fall that resulted in injury would spell the end of this trek immediately if not my death. There wasn't another person for over five hundred miles so no one would be able to help me. Thankfully the handholds started becoming wider as I continued to climb. After two or three hours I finally managed to get up to a small landing. I stopped to take a rest and chew on some berries I had picked from the valley below.

I watched the clouds drift by while I laid against the mountain side. Supposedly at the top of this mountain was a man who could do whatever you wished. He had gone to the top of the mountain over a thousand years ago when he had become too powerful for this world. All of this was according to legend. But it was all me and my people had to go on. With my body rested, I started climbing again, the handholds becoming much easier to grip.

I made good time for the rest of the day. As the sun is nearing the horizon I manage to make it to another landing. Unfortunately this one has no cave or even an outcropping for me to sleep under. I pull the last of my wood from my bag and pile it up. Putting my back to the wind to try and block it I start the process of getting a fire started. It only takes me ten minutes to get a fire roaring and then remove a small tarp from my bag to place over the flame. As long as I stay in front of it the fire should be safe from the wind for the night. Thankfully I had learned long ago how to sleep sitting up even if I had nothing to lean on.

The night was calm but with how high up I was there was always wind blowing. I sat as close to the fire as I could without burning myself but I never really got warm. Sleep overtook me eventually though it was an uneasy rest. I dreamt of home. When I had left our fields were dying and most of our water sources had dried up. Sickness had gone through my village like a wildfire. That was why I had left. The shaman had told me if I could find the man on the mountain before year end we would be saved. So I was given the fastest horse of our village and sent off into the wilderness to climb the mountain.

I awoke to the first rays of the sun breaking the horizon. I forced my eyes to open though they felt as if the mountain itself was weighing them down. My back felt like a solid block of ice that cracked upon my first movements. Cold and pain cascaded through my whole body. Simultaneously numbing me and setting me on fire. My fire had died out at some point in the night. It hadn't done much but it at least helped. It took over an hour getting my joints to unlock and stretch out. By the time I was ready to climb again the sun was out in full glory but as high as I was it's rays did not bring me much warmth against the brittle wind.

I put my tarp back in my bag and removed a pair of worn down gloves. I had been saving them for the point in this journey. They wouldn't hold out for long against the jagged mountain face but they would keep my fingers warm enough for now. I looked down to see if I could still see the valley. I could, though I could make out no features as I had yesterday. Now all I could see was land, trees, and a few strings of water.

I turned back to the wall of rock and sighed. Hopefully it wouldn't be much longer. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep going. I found handholds and I started up. As the sun was hitting its peak I found another small landing to rest on. I finished the last of the berries from my bag watching the birds fly around me. It took my brain a little while to recognize they were vultures. Even though my body was aching and screaming in protest I immediately pushed myself up.

As I started to reach for something to grab on to my eyes caught a narrow path off to my right. I took a couple of steps over to investigate. There was a gap of about six feet that if I could clear I would make it to a real path. One wide enough that I wouldn't even have to hug the mountain to walk it. I backed myself up as much as I could to get a running start. I took off towards the gap. As I pushed off my foot to jump the ground gave way beneath me. I went through the air, my arms flailing. My fingers catch the other side with a firm grip. I pull myself up little by little praying that this ground would hold. My arms screamed in protest even though they felt completely numb. I finally managed to pull myself up enough to swing a leg up and then scramble onto solid ground. I lay there panting and as the adrenaline left my system I passed out.

I dreamt again this time of my wife. She had been ill when I left. We had already lost our child due to the lack of food. She was the one who actually convinced me to leave. I had come to her telling her what the shaman had told me. But I had told her that I wouldn't go. That I would stay with her and help guide her spirit to the afterlife. She had grabbed my shoulders with all the strength she had left, "Go! Save our people. You are the only one left. Find the man of the mountain and convince him to save us. Go!" With that she had passed out.

I woke up to the feel of something tapping my head. I blearily opened one eye to see one of the vultures from earlier standing over me. I swat feebly at it with an arm while mustering enough energy to yell, "Go away dammit. I'm not dead yet." It flies away as I force myself up into a seated position leaning against the wall of the mountain. From the look of the sun I had been passed out for three or four hours. I took a look at my hands noting that my gloves were in shreds but still hanging on me so I'd keep them for now. I slowly stretched all my limbs, finding nothing broken or even dislocated by some miracle.

I pushed myself up now and used the mountain itself as a crutch to hold myself up. I start pushing my way up the path. It is set at a slight incline heading up the mountain. I looked up as I walked internally cheering when I was able to see the top. It's just barely but I can see it there. Just that sight alone is enough to give me some extra energy. I find myself able to stand upright again. The path continues to wind up and slowly into the mountain itself.

Soon the path takes me into a cave and from what little I can see the path continues to go on. I take a deep breath and walk inside. Within ten steps I am engulfed in complete darkness. I almost stop to slow my eyes time to adjust to the darkness but I know if I stop I won't continue afterwards. So now I move by feel alone, keeping my hands on the walls and taking each step slowly. I start each step with only my toes to try and feel for any pitfalls. This goes on for what feels like an eternity every moment stretching on into the darkness. Eventually I see the faintest shimmer of a light ahead of me.

I continue making my way forward little by little, the light growing brighter with every step. Soon I can actually see my surroundings but a few steps further and I couldn't see anything again. This time because I was blinded by the light streaming out of the exit to the cave. As I stepped out of the cave I collapsed again sleep immediately overtaking me.

I'm riding on a horse through the countryside. It took two days of hard riding before we found any fields of grass that were green. Everything before that had been brown and withered. The water was gone as well. When we finally found water both the horse and I drank our fill till we were almost sick. After a day's rest we got on our way again. I rode the horse much harder than I normally would have. By the time we finally reached the valley under the mountain the horse was ready to collapse. I let him free after that to roam the valley. That was when I had started my ascent.

I woke up to light surrounding me. This time though it was not the brilliant thing from before. It was soft, comforting, and all enveloping. My body no longer hurts. I could actually feel my extremities again. I sat up and looked around trying to figure out where I was. I was in what looked like a garden. There were trees, bushes, and flowers everywhere. Birds and bees flitting all around.

A man came from behind a tree. He was a younger man, maybe in his twenties. Completely clean shaven and bald. He wore a simple tunic that wrapped from one shoulder and fell down to his feet. But his eyes were what caught my attention. They were bright and full of life yet they held a weight to them that showed great sadness. They shined every color imaginable and many that I couldn't name or imagine. He walked up to me, "Hello child. I'm glad to see you're awake. Thought for a little while you were going to die on me and I couldn't have lived with that especially how far you've come."

I looked him up and down rubbing my eyes, "Are you the man of the mountain? I've come so far to see you. Please, I need your help. My people need your help."

The man nodded, "I know why you've come. Sadly I can not help you. To exert my influence upon this world would be to end this world. I am sorry. If you wish, I can send you back home so you can spend time with your wife before she passes."

I looked at him aghast, "What do you mean you can't help? The shaman told me if I could reach you that you could help us. That with your great power you could save our people."

Sighing, the man turned and started walking away, "Your shaman was wrong. That is why I came here. To watch over this world and only intervene if absolutely necessary. The death of one village unfortunately does not count in this instance."

I started to become angry, "What? The death of one village doesn't concern you. Our passing is just another consequence of the world. I have traveled so far and overcome so much to find you. I gave up giving my wife her burial rights to come to you. She gave up having me there with her so that I could save our people. And all you can say is we don't warrant enough of your attention to exert your influence. You have been here for a thousand years. You are a living God! Help us!"

The man turned to me and his eyes were more a solid gray, "Don't you think I would if I could? I did once. Long ago, a thousand years ago to be exact I tried to save people. Do your people tell the story of the great fire that engulfed the world?"

I nodded and sat back down on the bed I had woken up on, "Of course. A great flame once encircled the world and burnt all the living things to ash. From that ash new beings were shaped and set into the world. The story is told every year at our harvest."

He nodded at me, "Correct. But what the story doesn't tell you is who started the fire. I was the one who started it. I came from a small village much like you but I couldn't accept my own small world. One day I left my village and I walked into the forest to meditate. I sat in a small pond for thirty three days and nights meditating. Thinking on the nature of our world and why there was so much suffering. Suffering for people who did nothing but try to live their lives. I took one sip of water from the pond every day and nothing more. On the final day I died. But in my death I reached some form of enlightenment and something greater than myself reached down from the heavens and bestowed me with but a small glimpse of its power.

I came back to life in the pond. I could feel the energy of the cosmos flowing through me. I went back to my village and I told them of what had happened. They did not believe me at first of course but once I demonstrated my new power they came around. Of course my village wanted me to help them and I was happy to oblige. Bring rain when we had none and bring the sun back before the floods happened. Make sure that crops were bountiful. Heal the sick and the wounded.

It wasn't long before people from other villages came seeking my help. Of course I was happy to give it to them. But before long I came to realize that my actions were taking a toll on the world. I was disrupting the natural flow of the planet. Even healing people began to take effect around the world. People living longer meant that they drained more resources around them. Because of this they were being forced to move more and more often, eradicating the environment around them as they did. The world could not heal fast enough and I couldn't heal it fast enough.

Everything fell into chaos. People began killing each other for resources. The weather had gone completely mad. I was left with no choice. I had to burn it all away. Restart the world so to speak. So that's what I did. I burned everything to utter ash. From that I reshaped the world as I remembered it. People included."

I sat there trying to take in everything I had just been told. My mind was reeling, "So now you're afraid to intervene because you fear repeating your mistakes? I want to argue with you and yet I can't. If what you say is true then please send me home to be with my wife. We will accept our fate if it means to keep the rest of the world safe."

The man smiled and nodded. His eyes have returned to their shining shimmering state. He walks over to a tree bearing a fruit I've never seen before. It is fat and ripe with a light pink color. He turned back to me as he broke open the fruit pulling a seed from it, "I will give this to you as a reward. Take this back to your village with you. Plant the seed and wait one season for it to grow. It will bring life back to your land slowly but it will. The fruit you must take and break only a small piece off and feed it to those who are ill. After three days they will fully recover. The new plant that will be born from this seed will only be for healing. If others come in search because their village suffers from illness then you must do the same for them as I have done for you. Now go child."

I take the fruit and seed from him, "Thank you. I do not understand why you bestow me with this gift but I will not question it. Thank you again for this. I will leave now. Hopefully I will never have need to return. So this is farewell man of the mountain." With that I walked back to the entrance of the cave and as I stepped through it I was back in front of my village with my horse.

I looked around for only a moment before I rushed into the village and found the shaman. I told him of everything that had happened. I give him the fruit and the seed, breaking off a small piece of the fruit for my wife. I rushed to our home to find her still in bed as I had left her. Her breathing is shallow but she still lives. I slowly feed the fruit to her and immediately I can see color returning to her cheeks.

The next three days pass agonizingly slow but with each day her strength returns. On the third day she got up from her bed bursting with energy. She embraced me and held me tight to her. We gave our thanks to the man of the mountain and never stopped holding one another for that first season while the seed grew. A small amount of fear in our hearts that the seed would not produce anything. But when the next season came life began to return to our world. Little by little did the world regrow and with each season that passed. Soon our village was back to the way it had been once before.

A year later and there are once again fruitful and plentiful harvests. Healthy people and crying children filled the middle of the village including my own wife and newly born child as the shaman recited the tale of the great fire that had burned the world to ash. After he was done I told the story of my journey and the fruit I was given. As I finished my story we all turned towards the mountain and bowed our heads in thanks to the man of the mountain.

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