Chương 241: The View from on High

Ch. 241 - The View from on High When Simon finally hiked through half of the Raiden Range and found Mount Elian, he did not go straight up it as he did on his previous ascent. From this direction, the path was treacherous, and it would have been counterproductive. Instead, he circled around it until he reached the monastery that he'd stayed at before, which happened to also be the start of the secret path to the top.

They showed him just as much hospitality as they had last time, and when they asked him what he was doing so far from Coramin or anywhere else that mattered, he told them the truth.

"I come seeking perspective and, perhaps, wisdom," he explained. When he said that, they were no less hospitable, though they were more interested. Mostly, what they wanted to know was how a foreigner had come to learn about Oracle.

"It is a closely guarded secret," the monk who sat with him explained as he sat with him at one of the dirty tables in the cramped courtyard of the fortress-like place.

"And no true Ionian would speak of such a thing to an outsider."

"They wouldn't," Simon agreed, doodling in the dust that clung to the varnished wood.

"But I felt a compulsion to come here, just the same." It took some time for what he was drawing to become apparent, but once the separated strokes slowly formed into the caldera of the cloud city at the peak of the mountain, the man stopped asking questions. Instead, he told his brothers in a language that they probably didn't think he understood that he must have been called by the Oracle herself.

"Can there be any doubt?" the monk insisted.

"Look at what he drew. He must have seen it in a dream."

"But there is a darkness about him," another said, gesturing subtly to Simon while he pretended to enjoy his soup.

"Surely you can see it too, even without the sight."

"All I see is a man weary of the world," the third man said.

"He seems a bit young to be so jaded, but I wouldn't worry. The Oracle can defend herself. If she finds him unworthy, she'll cast him into that boiling lake all on her own." Simon raised an eyebrow at that piece of information. He hadn't been aware that was a possible outcome until now. I wonder how exactly she would defend herself? He thought. In his last visit, he was fairly sure there'd been more to her than meets the eye, but now, he was more sure of that.

That night, he slept more restlessly in a plain cell that was set aside for travelers than he did by the dying embers of his campfire in the wilds as he waited for someone to strike him down, but no one ever did, and in the morning they gifted him were bread and wander for the long road ahead, though they warned him.

"Without rope, you might never reach the top." Simon found it funny that they helped him with food but hid the existence of the path.

"Maybe it's just for important people to use," he said to himself as he veered north to the flank of the mountain in a search for it.

"Maybe everyone else has to treat the ascent as a test of endurance or devotion or something." That would be fitting. People who wanted guidance had to take the hard way up, but then they could take the easy way down. There was probably a metaphor in there somewhere, but he didn't look for it too hard. Instead, he used the shortcut and made his way to the top in record time. He didn't recall precisely how long it had taken him to climb up the mountain last time. It had been a week or ten days.

When he'd gone down the path, though, he'd made it down in a single night. While he didn't quite match that pace on the way up, he only had to camp for three nights on the trail before he made it to the door of the outer temple on the fourth day. If the priest who met him with a slight bow was surprised that he'd come up the path, he gave no indication. For a moment, Simon was disappointed that Diara wasn't there to greet him.

It took him only a moment to realize that was probably because she was just a kid this time. He'd come here last from level four, which meant that meeting would be about eight years in his future. The new priest was just the opposite of the pretty young woman he'd met last time. He introduced himself as Homen and was older than Simon by a decade or two and rather taciturn. He answered Simon's questions as they walked inside, but even though he was cordial enough, he didn't volunteer any extra information.

Still, he welcomed Simon inside for tea as he inquired about his trip.

"Have you been here before?" he asked politely once the tea was steeping in a pot on a low table between them while they regarded each other.

"Not in this life," Simon answered honestly. The other man took that surprisingly well. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"That does happen from time to time," Homen agreed, though I'm personally too young to have seen it before. Simon smirked at that, given that there was gray in the priest's beard.

"Someone else will decide if you are permitted to meet with the oracle, not me."

"Permitted?" he asked, "I thought that all who made it this far were allowed to meet with her?"

"You have before, by your own admission," the priest agreed, pouring them both tea.

"No one has said that you may meet with her every life. That is a choice for her, not for you." Simon nodded wondering what that said about reincarnation in this place. He knew of no such beliefs among the general public, but took his cup as the man continued.

"Still, you have come a long way and are welcome to refresh yourself within the walls of our sanctuary."

"Is that the name of this place?" Simon asked.

"Is that what you were told on your previous visit?" Homen asked cagily.

"Well, I wasn't given a name last time," Simon admitted.

"Nor shall you now, I think, this time," the priest answered with a shrug before stopping to take a sip of tea.

"I am not to decide these things either." Simon thought about asking who was, but he knew he wouldn't get an answer to that question either. Instead of asking about things like that, he chatted with the man for a while and then asked for a bath. While he was led to the same communal baths as before, this early in the day, they were largely abandoned, giving Simon a hint of privacy and all the time in the world to look at the crescent-shaped city that was laid out.

All of it was never visible at the same time because of the drifting clouds, and most of it was terraced farm fields, but even so, it was a city of volcanic stone that was lovely to look upon, and Simon enjoyed the view as much as the warm bath waters as he tried to decide what each of the strangest buildings might be for. Though the place was dominated by columns, arcades, and peaked roofs, just like Ionar and all the other major cities of Ionia, they were quarried from dark, volcanic stone.

They also eschewed the straight roads one would find in Coramin or the upper city of Ionar and focused on trying to fit as many buildings as they could along the winding shores of their steaming lake. The result should have been claustrophobic or even sinister, but instead, he found the patterns very organic and longed for a closer look.

"That's not going to happen, though," he sighed.

"Not unless I want to stay for the rest of this life." Honestly, it wouldn't be the worst fate, but he felt like he'd die of boredom from up here. Even if they made him head door greater, and he was responsible for taking people to paths and bringing them food, he'd still spend weeks at a time just waiting for someone to, what, knock? Ring the doorbell? Fortunately, he did not have to wait weeks to find out if he could meet with the Oracle.

When a simple dinner of flatbread and spiced rice was brought to the cell where he was supposed to wait in quiet contemplation, the acolyte who brought it also brought a message.

"She has agreed to meet with you two nights hence," the woman answered curtly. Simon didn't ask questions. He already had some idea that most of the priests and acolytes here wouldn't be as helpful as Diara had been and that the darker the robes, the lower rank someone was. So, he didn't wish to put this poor girl in a tough spot. He simply thanked her and ate. For the next two nights, Simon stood on the balconies of the outer temple.

He was forbidden from going any further into the city unescorted, but as long as he stayed within those bounds, no one troubled him. At first, he was most fascinated by the buildings, but eventually, the waters attracted his attention. Not only were there flickering traces of bioluminescence at night, but during the day, people actually worked the waters to some degree. They had to be boiling, or nearly so. Still, sometimes they looked to be fishing.

He was sure they had to be doing something else, since he'd been told there were no fish in those waters, but when he asked Home about it, he just said, "There are many valuable things in the waters besides fish." Nonetheless, some workers would brave the steam clouds to harvest mussels and other shellfish in the cooler shallows, and others would paddle slowly back and forth across the wide lake to pick up and deliver various commodities.

What Simon wanted most was to see those mundane sights and draw them, but he was denied that. There weren't even any white walls he could go to town on with some charcoal. If he'd thought ahead, he could have brought some chalk and gotten this out of his system. Still, all he could do now was wait, and when they finally came for him, he was awake, sitting in the dark of his cell. This time, the masked priests that escorted him didn't take him down the same winding lava tube they had last time.

Though it looked the same, this one was slanted downwards, and there were no cracks that would let him look out onto the caldera. Instead, as they got lower, the stones grew slick, and the light reflected off them strangely. When they finally reached the bottom of the thing, they came out onto another cliffside temple. This one wasn't split in half by a rift that exuded sulfurous fumes. Instead, it was only a few inches above the lake's surface and half shrouded in mist.

Still, it wasn't hard to make out the familiar silhouette of a woman standing there against a backdrop of the moon and stars. He wanted to concentrate on her regal beauty, and the striking place he'd been brought, but unbidden, the words of the monk at the foot of the mountain came back to him, dispelling most of them. She's not really going to throw me in the lake, is she? He wondered.