Roughly a week passed in this way, myself and Chrys living quietly together despite the tension felt between us, or at least the tension held in myself when I was around him. Chrys was still the hulking, bulk of monster muscle he was when I met him, only now he was feeding me the fresh game he’d catch while scoffing at my mussels and napping a lot. It was strange, and felt all too unnatural for me. I kept a close watch on the amount of days I had left to endure, and kept a closer eye on Chrys in case he decided he wasn’t satisfied by the meat he’d been eating and was simply fattening me up for a glorious dinner.

On the sixth or seventh day, we were both in a state of feeling better but not completely fixed. My wounds were in the process of closing completely and regenerating, and my right arm was beginning to finally steady after being overused when I fought Bitter, while Chrys was also dealing with plenty of recently shut gashes all over his torso from the onslaught of attacks those large bird creatures were inflicting on him. We could move just fine, and there wasn’t a constant throb of pain, but they were still certainly wounds that could and would easily reopen and heal poorly if we weren’t careful. I was being as careful as possible by this point, not only due to these things but also just because I had had my fill of exploration, and the idea of helping Chrys had lost its sheen hours after it had occurred to me. If he was as intelligent as he seemed, then there was no way he hadn’t checked every possible route up that mountain. And I only had maybe ten days left on that island at that point. Once Sage came and picked me up, my time spent there would all be a distant memory. The fate of some monster on a deserted island wouldn’t matter to me in the least.

It was around midday, the sun was high and beating gently on us with a heat so subdued you could practically taste the winter in the air. I was relaxing a few feet to the side of the entrance of our cave, enjoying the sun idly and trying to find the brighter side in my being there. Chrys lay at the entrance, a low snore lumbering through his nostrils every few seconds, not so loud that it annoyed you but quiet enough to be rhythmic noise that brought you to sleep with it, wrapping us up in a moment that was too short regardless of when it ended.

How it ended ruined everything.

A piercing boom of thunder rolled out in a cacophony of sonic vomit, bringing me to attention fast enough to see Chrys get launched into the rear of the cave with enough force to crack bones. The mountain shook with the impact, and I ran to see it was a massive bird creature similar to the ones who attacked before, though this one was much bigger, at least a full two steps taller and wider, its wings bent awkwardly in that cave just to fit. It screeched, a malevolence bouncing around the cave walls and getting louder by the second.

I acted as fast and unthinking as possible, not purposefully but reactively. That sound was so horrendous I thought if I let it continue my heart might explode from the vibrations. It was alien, otherworldly, and the pain it inflicted was too.

Drawing Sage’s dagger, I drove it into the creatures back and pulled up and diagonal, the idea being that something important was likely to be hit in that arc.

The creature turned, its beak clacking with a primeval hunger, drool dripping like acid to the floor, burning all it touched and sending me a step back, then two, then three. I held tight to the dagger, pointing it outward in hopes it would be frightened.

It obviously wasn’t.

But in the time it spent looking at me, Chrys was on it. He mauled the birds neck, shaking it back and forth so fast I couldn’t see it through the blur of motion. Trying to shake Chrys off, the bird slammed its back into the back wall of the little cave. Then it slammed again. And again. And again. The first slam had me worried, but I was so shaken that it hadn’t reacted to my initial attack that my knees only shook. I couldn’t move.

That fourth slam brought out a cry from Chrys so infantile it made my chest ache, and I think I screamed. The bird screeched and drowned out my sounds in a sea of sonic agony, and I found myself stabbing and stabbing like a murderer, blood flecks painting the walls a reddish green, coating my face in its heat, until I couldn’t hear its sound any longer.

In all, the attack lasted probably thirty seconds.

It took longer to get the birds body off of Chrys, who was breathing hard and surrounded by flowers that had crumpled and fallen off his mane. I asked if he was alright; he nodded.

We were about to see if we could drag the body out of the cave when we heard a crackling in the wall, and it started to fall apart and crumble. We got out of the way, going back to the entrance of the cave and watching the debris bury the massive attacker. When the walls finished falling and the air cleared, my jaw dropped and I heard Chrys speak.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, his voice still heavy from the attack.

I nodded, and he walked over the debris as a makeshift stairway, leading up to an actual staircase. Behind the cave was a room, hidden away the entire time inside our mountain home. Chrys and I began our ascent immediately. The surprise and the curiosity of it overtook my desire to find a new spot to hide, or just to rest in general. The stairs were there, and I wanted to know why.

“You’re not hurt badly then?” I asked Chrys after a while of climbing. There was no light in there, and I had both my hands sliding against the cold rock walls to help me find my way.

“I am fine,” he said, dismissive.

“Okay, good,” I said. Then I asked, “So why would the stairs be here? This is the wrong mountain right?”

“You’re correct,” he said. “But if this is the way up then there must be a way to get to Dil’s peak, I’m sure of it.”

I nodded, not asking further. A way across seemed unreasonable to me since the bird creatures he was sending down could all fly, so there was no real need for a bridge, or even these stairs. So if the stairs had no right to exist, I thought, I may as well give up on looking into all this. It might make sense when we reach the top.

Maybe.

The longer we moved in silence the more my mind began working, and I realized that giant bird never once tried to attack me.

“What was that bird’s reason for attacking you? Just a grudge or something?”

Chrys slowed a little but didn’t stop walking.

“I’m only asking since the thing never tried attacking me at all. And before, those crazy bird things were attacking you when you were trying to get to the top of the mountain. Why are you such a threat? I don’t get it. You don’t even have wings.”

“We’ve already talked about how you wouldn’t understand this conflict, prince,” he growled, curt.

“Yes, but if I’m going to climb this mountain with you I think I should know what’s going on up there.”

“No one asked you to climb with me,” he said, speeding up a little.

I grabbed for his leg and he tried to whip around to roar at me, but the stairway was so narrow that he could only turn his head, mitigating his rebuttal. There was no way for him to turn around and go back. So I held his leg firmly, without fear.

Well, okay maybe a little fear.

“No one asked you to live with me, or share your food, or your company,” I said, determination in my voice. “But you did it all anyway. Just as I saved you without asking, and now I’ll accompany you up this mountain.”

“You’ve nothing to gain from this,” he said, his eyes hard and shimmering in that blue darkness.

“That’s true, in some ways,” I said. “In others, this will be good for me. I was only sent here to train, and I haven’t really done much of that outside of these little skirmishes. I still can’t use the Vastmire inside me properly, I don’t know what I’m doing at all. I still get hurt needlessly in combat situations, and with a war ready to break out I really can’t afford not to be strong.”

“Then go back down there and train yourself,” Chrys said, his voice dwindling. “There’s no reason for you to be—”

“Here? With you? I’ve made my choice and I will die by it. Now tell me why we climb this mountain? What have you done, who have you wronged? I can tell you all about my ridiculous history if you’d like to hear it in exchange.”

When he didn’t answer, I eased my grip on his leg and steepled my hands together, ready to resign and sit down.

I was about to say one last thing when he said, “Come, we must keep going.”

Once we were back to walking, he said, “At the top of this mountain is someone who controls all life on this island, and is preparing to control all life on this planet.”

I tensed up at that, and he felt it even from behind him in that darkness.

“Don’t worry about it, the process seems to be taking forever. I’m not sure they even want to do that anymore, they’ve been up there so long. Maybe they just want to get rid of me.”

“But why?”

With a heavy sigh, he said, “I’m a liability. Unfinished business. The man who lives at the peak helped make me who I am today, but I didn’t agree with their ideals and decided I wouldn’t help him take over the world or create more beings like me. When I said this, he threw me off the mountain and I’ve lived alone down there ever since.”

“Wait,” I said, confused. “He threw you off the top of this mountain?”

“Not this one,” he said, unfazed. “The one neighboring it, remember?”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” I said. “But how come you didn’t die? These things are really tall! There’s no way something could survive being tossed off one like garbage. You should be dead.”

He nodded, I think. “I should be dead, yeah. Sometimes I wish I was so I could just be done with all this. But now I can finish things myself, and prove who was correct all those years ago.”

Chrys wasn’t much for maintaining the conversation, it seemed.

“So you’re just going to go to the top, storm this man’s castle, beat up all his bird guys, then kill him?”

“That about sums it up,” he said as we finally came upon a landing which stretched for a few steps and had a lamp sitting, unlit but filled with oil. Chrys clawed the wall and made a spark flicker into the oil, setting the lamp alight dimly, yet so bright it forced my eyes shut. “Carry that so we may see,” he said, “I’ve no hands to do so.”

“Right,” I said, rubbing my eyes before grabbing the lamp by its base, careful to not tip it over. “What are you going to do after you kill this guy then?”

“Hmm?” he asked. I repeated the question, and he was silent for a while.

“I can’t leave this island,” he said. “So I suppose I’ll just stay here, live out my days and enjoy my time.”

“That sounds pretty boring,” I said. “Especially when you won’t have anything to fight after that. You’ll be a king here, but of nothing.”

“Your perspective is a little skewed, but I see your point,” he said, smiling. “As I said, though, I can’t leave here. I’m tied to the soil of this island.”

“Tied to the soil? Sounds pretentious to me,” I mused. “Why not come with me when I leave? You’re not bad in a fight, and we could use all the help we can get.”

“Tied to the soil isn’t some turn of phrase,” he chided. “I mean that my body is tied to this island, I can’t leave it. If I were to swim in the ocean, or take a boat across it or anything, even fly, I would die. Slowly, probably. I haven’t tried it so it’s speculation, but I would most definitely die.”

I laughed at that, more so than I should have. Being away from civilization made humor, small as it may be, make me laugh way more than I had before.

“Something amusing you, prince?” he growled, stopping to turn his head in that narrow stairway.

“You haven’t tried,” I said, wheezing—wheezing! I never wheeze. “Yet you assume you’ll die? That’s just stupid, Chrys. Why not go for a swim and see if you can breathe after a few minutes.”

Growling louder so it rumbled against the walls, he said, “It was said to me by the man at the top of the mountain.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t believe him, it sounds pretty ridiculous to me,” I snickered. “I’ve heard of some wild spells in my day, read plenty of books on the magic of foreign lands, but no land in Tamarind has magic that can tie you to a place for good. That’s just silly fairy tale words.”

Chrys growled, but eased up before sighing and mumbling, “Fairy, indeed.” Then we continued our ascent in silence. I was determined to get him to come with me after everything was done. I may have saved Chrys twice while I was there, but he was strong. Probably stronger than Sage in terms of raw physical power. And he was intelligent, which meant a lot for the battles I’d need him in. He could be some sort of beast advisor. And that would be neat, right? Me, a prince, taking war advice from a mythical mammalian companion.

And I was the one making fun of him for fairy tale notions.

We continued up those steps in absolute silence, save for the sound of my stomach growling or the scrape of our bodies against the wall where we would frequently bump into. I’m not sure how long we climbed, it could have been the entire day, maybe more. Time moves differently without the sun or the moon to guide it, and the dim light of the lamp was no pocket watch.

When we reached landings, of which there were few and far between, I would ask to rest for a moment and Chrys wouldn’t reply, he’d just stop and tap a claw against the stone floor, impatient and wanting to move. After no time passed at all, I’d grab the lamp once more and we’d be on our way, him leading the way at a pace all too fast for the height we were clearing. I’ve seen taller mountains since the climb Chrys and I did that day, but nothing really prepares you for a sudden thing like this. And I was too submissive back then, I took no charge when it came to taking proper breaks or eating or anything. I just kept following Chrys’ back, ready to do whatever it meant to help him out.

The top of the steps was so breathtaking Chrys actually spoke.

He said, “Get ready,” voice low yet excited.

I wasn’t sure what that entailed, so I nodded and grabbed a hold of my dagger, keeping my elbows bent into my stomach in an unnecessary and largely unhelpful defensive maneuver, something I did often during my formative years.

The cold air hit us like a cannon, and I almost couldn’t stand from lack of energy mixing with the windchill and sheer force of it all hitting me like that. Managing to stand was only due to the view, which was unlike anything I’d ever seen. Chrys stood in front of me, surveying the empty air separating us and the mountain peak across from us like a river of small, mostly transparent clouds which coasted along beneath us, so sparse they would have seemed to be fog at a lower elevation. The snow at our feet was fresh, untouched, the purest white in nature, but not so bright you couldn’t look at it. The sunsetting hidden behind another mountain helped with that.

The mountain across from us, our presumed destination, was topped with a defiant castle whose architecture defied natural law. It extended outward, hanging over air as if it floated above the clouds, and made the mountain almost comically tall compared to the one we stood atop. It had no windows as far as I could see, no drawbridge or door, no visible entrance of any kind. I frowned; now that we were here, how would we get in?

Looking at the open air we had to cross, my heart sunk further. I saw the lamp had gone out and placed it on the ground neatly at the top of the stairs, so it wouldn’t fall over or be buried in the snow.

I wanted to ask Chrys what we should do, but he looked satisfied standing there, his fur blowing fiercely like he was covered in ocean waves. The flowers in his mane stood firm, and his gaze never left the castle. He was ready to get there, regardless of what it meant.

In that moment, the world was silenced, so quiet it was all you could do not to notice that silence, and Chrys broke it like a boulder through a glass palace. He roared out a challenge so deep and bold that I’m sure even Sage had to look up from whatever he was doing, iles away though he was. The snow shifted around my feet, and I held my hands to my ears tightly, hoping to keep as much of the sound out as possible. Just when I thought I couldn’t handle the noise anymore, it stopped, dwindling quietly back in Chrys’ throat.

Carefully lifting my hands from my ears, I trudged over to him, his roar still quietly echoing deep in my head like far off thunderstorms. When I got there, I saw how far his challenge had been heard.

Four birdmen were soaring across the gap right for us, eight golden orbs coming closer and closer like shooting stars.

I began to panic and grab for my dagger, but Chrys calmly looked at me and said, “They do not come to fight us.”

I had no reason to believe he knew what their true intentions were, and even if they weren’t there to fight us how would I know they were being pure? Or even purely good? So I didn’t draw my weapon, but my hand stayed on it with familiar firmness.

The birdmen got there fast, and were on us even faster. They floated above us and—scary as it was—they gently lowered themselves and grabbed us with genuine care, making sure not to close their talons on any sensitive pieces of the meat they were about to tow. Two of them grabbed me, and the other two grabbed Chrys, though I feel like three may have been better due to the size difference. And as swiftly as they came, we went across the gap.

I’ve never been afraid of heights. When I was a lot younger than I was in this story—so perhaps forty solstices prior to my writing this—I would often climb all manner of trees and buildings and whatnot, just to do so. And even at this point in the story, when I was almost fourteen years old, I was very eager to climb the mountain to help Chrys take care of whatever he had to do.

But when you’re being held above the clouds, and the things holding you are vicious, carnivorous, unthinking predator monsters that would haunt the most pleasant dreams and be at home in the most disturbing nightmares, you get a little antsy when you see the possible drop and do all manner of crazy things. Needless to say, I was sweating a lot, and I’m unsure whether or not it was that or maybe they hadn’t grabbed hold of me properly with how much they were trying to not hurt me, but I slipped out of the talon holding my left arm and was dangling by only my right arm. My stomach about dropped out of my feet. I couldn’t even attempt to think straight, I just looked up to see that the bird who let go was staring at me, not in a confused way—more in a challenging way. He wanted to see what I’d do. This was a test, and definitely not a fairy tale test where my rites of courage lead to fame and glory. No, this was a predator playing with food.

Seeing this, and thinking absolutely nothing besides that I needed to survive, I swung with more strength than I knew I had and grabbed hold of the birdman’s ankle, the cold wind cutting my skin into paper thin ribbons.

The birdman’s eyes narrowed into golden slits, then he returned his attention to flying, presumably bored of me. I tried to return my breathing to normal, and decided to keep my eyes shut for the remainder of the trip.

Once I felt the wingbeat from above me, I opened my eyes and saw we were descending slowly through an entrance on the castle’s roof. I held a hand up to my eyes to help keep the air from burning them, and I looked over to Chrys to see he was about to jump down to the ground.

When we landed, I immediately rubbed my shoulders where the talons had held them. They weren’t in pain, just uncomfortable, like the expectancy of pain made them hurt in my head and I had to physically remove it with my palms. Chrys was on edge; he was crouched down, his eyes slanted and surveying the lay of the room for, presumably, an enemy, or more specifically, the man we were here to kill. Despite being on his side, I did find it a little overkill. I was just as on edge, perhaps more so considering the enemy at hand, but even I knew an empty hallway when I saw one. It was just me, him, and the two birdmen who flew us there.

Remembering they were there, I whipped around to see they had turned around to fly away again. One of them looked over his shoulder at Chrys, then shook his head and flew back through the hole in the roof we came from.

With their wind beating down on me once again, I moved closer to Chrys so that we wouldn’t be too far from each other and I asked, “So, where to now that we’re here? You got any ideas?”

He nodded, “I’ll call for them. Cover your ears.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I planted my hands firmly over them and took a few steps back. The second he started roaring, I took twenty more. It was even more unbearable in an enclosed area like that, and I could physically feel the vibrations in my chest. My bones were rattling around like I was just a bag of bones, and I kept wanting to check my palms for blood from my ears. It was a pleasant surprise that they were dry.

Chrys was still going when a rather dapper looking birdman came around the corner, wearing—as odd as it sounds, trust me it was even stranger in person—the full black suit of a royal servant, complete with a necktie and expensive looking cufflinks. Holding up a wing, he waved it dismissively and Chrys quieted down.

“So, you show your face here again,” he said, folding his wings like a cape.

Chrys bared his teeth in a wolfish smile, “I said that I would be here, and so I am. Now take me to your lord, Neres, before I stain this blue carpet black with your blood.”

If he could, I’m sure Neres would have returned the smile. Instead he just nodded, then locked eyes with me. “Who is this? He’s from the mainland.”

Chrys smirked. “He insisted on coming. Just some boy from down below, nothing for you to worry about.”

My mouth was open, but I shut it when Chrys looked at me. He obviously didn’t want me to say anything just yet, so I just nodded to him and kept my hand on my dagger.

Neres rolled his eyes and turned around. “Right, well this way then. It’s a long walk from here.”