The enormous mound appeared daunting at first glance...
The enormous mound appeared daunting at first glance, but a quick survey of the mass revealed a secret. The soil softly gave way to his hands and feet without crumbling beneath him. This would allow the young man to make his own holds as he clawed up the hill towards one of the glowing passageways that dotted its side.
He was still adjusting his eyes to the irritating red glow that radiated the air and lightly kissed his skin. This overbearing aura poured out and enveloped everything around the birthstones resting place. It was hard for him to imagine such a physical reaction coming from light. He first caught view of red gleams cresting the horizon days ago and at that time the journey was still fresh with many miles to go; this should have offered clues to the power imbued to the stone by Spirits ages ago. At this point daylight must have disappeared hours ago as the moon lay heavy in the sky, but the intrusive flares were making it impossible to distinguish dusk from dawn.
He decided it was best to ignore the crimson distraction and refocused his attention on the task at hand. The hillside was not that steep compared to those they ran along for games of Goatswalk. Years of these childhood games with other tribe cubs made the free ascent one of brevity and he was soon in a close by caves mouth. The soil was warm and humming as if the Spirits themselves whispered life into the holy site. Every step he took deeper into this place brought higher temperatures and more sweat.
His arm was now raised to protect from the glare reflecting off the walls, more vibrant now than ever before. The Elders words echoed truer here than at Outset:
“Brave the air of fire, and do what your people require.”
He turned a sharp corner and all at once the cave opened itself upon the savage, revealing the cores intensity and bringing him to his knees. As if under extreme duress, his body refused to move any closer to its assailant, and he relented to his base instincts. Regaining his footing, he fled around the corner and huddled for safety against the cave wall. His mind was at once awash with blurry contemplation.
He wondered frantically how anyone could have ever got close enough to touch that thing; let alone consider the violent act. He closed his eyes and looked inside for the courage to continue. He must touch the stone in order to get the Spirit vision that is needed to direct his tribe for the coming years. Another male would not be old enough to go on Outset for at least five seasons. Would the savage really want to go down on tribal record, painted on the walls as the first to return without the mark or the wisdom of the gods? To be branded as the bringer of unknown evils and unthinkable trials that all others will be forced to endure?
Knowing what must be done, he dropped the satchel off his back, and broke into a low sprint. Spinning around the corner on the balls of his feet as he concentrated his energy straight at the core. Ignoring all the heat and pain, he pushed himself to the rooms center and thrust his shoulder hard into the stone. The flesh seared instantly, skin melting first to the face of the stone, then vaporizing into the air. The smell of charred skin hit his nose and he reared back, landing on his back. He frantically threw himself backwards along the ground and out of the room, roaring in primal defiance while the stone sat still and cooked away the rest of his abandoned skin.
Once back behind the wall, he looked at his shoulder for the first time. It was a sick mess and brought about gut wrenching horror. The men of the tribe all share marks made in this fashion. It was almost more than he could endure, yet others self impose further inflictions at ceremonies and celebrations. On the verge of madness from this wound he could not fathom why.
Without thinking, he went to hold it, and was greeted with a greater pain. He clinched his jaw hard, his eyes fell shut, and prayed for sleep. Prayed for the Spirits to visit him and impart their wisdom in exchange for this agonizing sacrifice so he may soon leave this forsaken place and never return.
-Postmodern Sublimation
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