Myungsoo stood like a lone, swaying stalk in the midst of a barren field. Though he was once encompassed by a throng of gay-hued trees with draping lianas and fruits swinging gently from wind-stirred vines, dense verdant shrubs- the full array of exotic flora residing in Vitah- only a pair of tall twin mounts whose pinnacles pierced the nighted heavens were in front of him. He was secluded and barred from the visual effects of natural occurring phenomena, mystified and stumped with the prevailing question of "How" saturating his thoughts. It was a land devoid of much of anything except that duo of mountains and the very ground upon which he stood, gazing ever upwards. 

His immediate reflex to this miraculous translation was the all-too-natural shudder, feeling the fine hairs on the back of his hands bristle. He was now in tune with the realm that borders mortality, resonant with the murmurs of eternity and the transcendental. It was too apparent now, if doubt was still a factor, that he was dealing with an entity beyond all spectrum of mortal apprehension. This manipulation of space was not the work of sorcery or illusion. He was well acquainted with those arts and all sorts of sleight of hand and necromancy failed to capture even the slightest fraction of wonder this spectacle induced. 

 The closest thing that resembled this type of enigmatic act were the magical abilities of the Sanritem Elites, but more than that, the magic that flowed from Oscuridaon was what he could liken this work to. He possessed the ability to mold sensuous reality as per his will, and had indeed, shifted the placement of continents and brought to life those things which were not yet now are, breathing life into organisms that at one point had completely expired. But, this Myungsoo was certain of, Oscuridaon's magic and Nesher's power were fundamentally different.

He couldn't place his finger on it, but compared to Oscuridaon's necromancy, this and all these recent miracles felt dissimilar, as if wrought with a purpose that went beyond any self-serving egotism.

Hissing in a breath of air between his teeth and with nothing left to do, he stepped forward and craned his head to marvel at the extent of the peak he was ordered to climb. There were two separate mounts that erected from a single point, the defile in between was narrow at first but the slopes soon spread apart and each tip reached close yet far apart points in the atmosphere. He was drawn to select the mount to his left.

With uncertainty, frustration and an anger that was partly cooled down by the sudden miracle of translocation, he began to scale the mountain. Dongwoo was absent in all his thoughts. What may or may not rest at the top was what enraptured him.

There was no tactic, no formal, or cultured approach but only the pragmatic, intuitive imperative of "Climb". Myungsoo jumped and clung to a nook in the lofty red mount. It was a repetitive and slow cycle of gripping onto whatever hold he could, whether recessed cranny or solid rocky spur. His legs would clamber up, and if one saw him from afar they would think of him as some abstract of man and arachnid. In this very form did he continue to ascend, his damp hands becoming caked with dirt and his shoulders straining to scale this sheer wall. 

Eventually, all traces of moisture would dry from his body, except his mane which sustained a damp feel. His fingernails were black and even peeling on some of his fingers. His knees were scuffed with small pebbles entrenched in them. The climber never looked down to admire his feat that surpassed the efforts of every hill-dwelling tribe. For one to scale a mountain this great without assistance whether in the form of suitable equipment or aiding man was suicide. 

The black heaven looming above him was shifting to a sublime shade of cobalt; a new day was breaking. He continued his ascent even when the air was becoming thin and nails had fallen off with blood streaming from multiple cuts and lacerations on his bare arms and legs. Sweat stung and pestered his sight, but not even that would stop him.

By the time day had lightened, he stopped for a brief intermission and hugged the rugged wall while he glanced at the sky. There was no sun although he stretched his neck to look in every direction; there was no sign of that great star. Had he looked around during the night, perhaps he would ascertain another miracle was at work. For, even though there was nothing to cloud the smaller luminaries, there were none in sight, not even the moon. The celestial expanse, much like the terrain below, was empty; the shifting of night to day was the work of god.

He finally decided to glance down and while dizziness may have been a natural occurrence, he spat. Mile upon mile had he scaled and still the peak appeared as though never imminent. A curse in his mouth, he grunted and continued again. 

There was no external force, save the lack of air, to obstruct him, but even that he managed to overcome. Hunger and thirst, exhaustion- they were all factors that his indomitable spirit, his undaunted pride subdued. Still, bizzare he considered it, that when on the ground the mountain appeared shorter than it was. He glowered up, to the utmost extremity of the mount. His eyes were not playing tricks on him, but he was sure that the relative difference between him and the top now as to the top from when he was on the ground were exactly the same. 

There was no time to become a thinking man, not when he had scaled for so long. With a scowl and with the urge to meet Nesher face to face, he scoffed at this weird happening and pressed on. This thing did happen though, he now faced constant temptation to peer at the bottom. Every time he glared down, he would gauge whether or not there was an increase in distance from where he last looked. There was never an increase.

Furious and frustrated, he formed a tightly clenched fist with all the veins in his arm becoming thick cords and knots, and smashed his fury into that ruddy mountain wall. It instantly gave way and he nearly lost his grip as a whole but succeeded in claiming some sort of balance while clinching onto a vine-like growth he had earlier gripped. Following a pause he begun anew his upwards journey.

After a long while, finally! A new sight he encountered- a ledge, which he clambered over with clumsy hands. He was dead tired. How long it had been since he started this climb was an ambiguous thing. Without the sun to mark the passing of time, he was unsure as to how many hours had passed but affirmed that it had indeed been hours that passed by the feel of it. 

The rim upon which he rested was narrow, to the point that if he became indolent and swayed by a small margin to his left or to his right or tottered forward, he would fall to a violent death. His back was fully leaned against the craggy wall, his sword's awkward length pestering him to no end. 

He closed his eyes while he caught his breath, sweat trickling down his cheek. His lips were dry and chapped, tongue clinging to the roof of his mouth. He was drowsy and constantly nodding his head so that it continually beat against his chest. 

 "You say, 'Climb up this great mountain,' and all the while I do. Yet you keep avoiding me god, even though you said you will show yourself to me on the peak."

 That was what he now considered, that this wonder of an ever growing peak was the act of Nesher.

 "Why do you hide yourself from me?" he said with a sneer on his lips, "Afraid?"

 With that last remark, he tottered and fell back. Not to the sides nor the front did he fall, but back! He shuddered at this peculiar event, shaken from weariness and with renewed vigor in his veins from the shock. As he scrambled to get up, stumbling over his own feet, he lifted his head in amazement. He was now standing on a flat, dusty surface, at some small distance from the feet of a flight of stairs formed from terrain that reached into the sky, ending somewhere behind a dense clump of clouds.
 
He was breathless. The limited scope of his mortal mind was swept with awe and even a tinge of fear. Hesitantly, he took a step forward and for some reason, assumed the staircase would drift away into some part of heaven unreachable to man. At variance with his doubts, it remained in tact. He strode forward, ignoring all signs of exhaustion.

As soon as a foot fell on the first step, the clouds grew into more thicker clumps. The next foot set itself on the same step, the clouds grew again, this time heading in his direction. He continued up the climb that pierced the celestial expanse, the clouds becoming a wall to his right and to his left.

The journey was daunting, the staircase ascending infinitely without sign of an end. This irritated him and as he was about to curse, a wind blew against him. He fell back, unable to resist the irrepressible gust. His mouth was agape and just as he expected to plummet off that staircase, a force held him up, pushing him up until he managed a firm stance.

 "You cannot ascend here by yourself," a still voice whispered behind his ear.

 Myungsoo succinctly hitched up the golden sword from its sheath but altogether stopped from releasing it once those evil hallucinations started again. His eyes were closed and when he opened them he discovered he no longer stood atop a step but rather atop a sapphire surface, gleaming like the oceans under summer suns. 

Losing his balance, he fell to his knees. Below him he could see the planet as it existed with intuition of the crimes, the love, the hatred, the darkness, and the light that existed in man. Fierce animals clashed in primal battle, the predator hunted until its hunger was satisfied, the prey that survived escaped into havens underneath the ground, birds soared like kites in the air, trees sprouted up like green dots, spires sprang up as the pseudo pride of nations; people moved like ants, always busy and distracted with occupation. There was justice and injustice, false freedom and oppression, good and evil beneath him.
 
 There was no rest for those who dwelt below the azure glass. 

There, in the midst of a desert land poked out the marble tower that was once his home. Not far from it, the scarlet spires of Oscuridaon's citadel penetrated into the sky. He was flooded with emotion: melancholy, fierce wrath, and much yearning for the past, for his loved ones that were not. He was filled with hatred for god and Oscuridaon.

The blue surface on which he kneeled extended outwards in all directions, an interminable floor where one could not discern when it would cease from spreading. It was solid, never giving way to Myungsoo's vehement bludgeoning of fists against it. Though he cried to god, there was no answer, so his eyes were firmly fixed to the world below. He remained quiet like some cosmic observer witnessing the flux of life beneath the sky.

Once his outburst of emotion was quelled by the study of existence, a voice finally spoke, equable and without hint of severity.

 "I have waited for you. Since before you were born, I was waiting for you."

Myungsoo rose with a savage start to his heels and looked all over, whirling about in all directions and running hither and thither in search of the one who spoke. Though he ran a great distance, he failed to find the entity that spoke.

With a swelling fire of rage and desperation, he lifted his head and shouted to the winds, "Where are you, god?! I have come as you said, now face me!"

 A gentle stirring of wind swayed his hair and tickled his ear.

 "I am here. But you cannot now see me. Not yet. I would consume you if you even glimpsed at a fraction of my glory. There remains a sacrifice after the rite of ablution."

 Myungsoo clapped his head and tugged at his locks of hair like a savage beast. This answer was more taunt and mockery than sincerity. It was too oblique; what sacrifice could be made here, in this empty space? There was no sheep, goat, bull, or wine for libations, nor was there a dove or loaf of bread, much less grain to to offer. Altar? There was none, only Myungsoo existed here.

 "What sacrifice?! And all your people?! Those who cried day and night for deliverance?! Are they not sacrifice enough for you, you fiend?!"

There was no response. Only the gentle whisper of the wind that vexed the lone man upon the sapphire floor. Myungsoo frantically rubbed his face, but when he cast his hands to the side in a wild gesture, he lost his breath again. The god, revered and lauded by his forefathers now seemed like a mischievous being, enthralled with the idea of driving a former acolyte insane.

He was standing alone, atop a sandy hill, encompassed by the sight of ochre grains saturating a desert floor. The heat was unbearable, stinging his rubicund, sunburnt flesh. Already, at his feet, was a small puddle of perspiration being created. 

 "What do you want with me?!"

 No word was uttered, but a reply was given. From the clear skies, a black dot was quickly approaching, coming from some unknown horizon. Myungsoo hissed in some air between his gritted teeth. Even from the distance he knew what it was, there was no mistaking it. It was the dragon he could never kill in Vitah. 

A cold bead of sweat ran down his neck and spine. With his sword inflicting those ominous and haunting visions, there was no way he could fight it. He doubted his fists alone, or else the dagger on his hip, could fell that wretched reptile. He groaned, forgetting all about Nesher and Oscuridaon in that instant, all his focus shifting to the survival of his soul. Panic for self preservation is what ultimately spurred him to claim the golden sword stored on his back; that was his only chance at surviving.

Like an eagle cutting the wind with its swift glide, his hand moved up to hitch the sword from its scabbard. Hesitantly, his fingers coiled around the hilt, fully expecting to relinquish the touch in an instant. It was different this time. He didn't suffer any frightening scene nor an eerie moan or sob, but his mind was at peace. It seemed those ugly hallucinations stopped as if by magic.

While elsewhere he might've chanced to fathom the meaning, there was granted scarce opportunity to him. He could see those leathery wings flapping, ruthlessly stirring up the sands beneath. Its scales glistened as if moist with a morning dew and its horrible roar thundered like a grating crash of worlds across the desert scape.

Myungsoo stood his ground, having attained some confidence with the absence of those wicked visions. The gilded blade was loosed and he was now holding it aloft atop that sandy hill. He was ready for mortal combat where either he or that dragon would survive. There could be only one victor.

With its roar booming at a closer distance, he braced himself but instantly noticed a detail that could not go undetected. This dragon, as opposed to the time he had earlier faced it, only had one head, though said head was the same likeness of the one before. This trivial fact meant nothing at the present moment, however. It was still a dragon of immense proportions, a titan of forbidding lore with its great wings casting a cyclopean shadow. 

That same mouth, littered with jagged fangs that had scathed him as he fled for safety outside the border of Vitah, snapped at air. It was hungry and wanted its next meal now. Myungsoo burst off that sandy dune and charged to slay the reptile before he could be eaten. It was a flash of blurry moment and sand tossed several feet into the air as he charged to meet the mouth of the dragon.

The reptile hovered in the sky, its wings flapping at a moderate pace to sustain him in the air, and roared. Myungsoo fell to his haunches before that gnarly and foul smelling blast of air. Quickly, he scrambled up to avoid the sweeping wing of the beast. 

It had dove at him, but he was not without his wits. He knew that with its heavy body, he stood a chance of escaping such fatal strikes if his agility was whetted enough. It was, for as the dragon wheeled about for another dive, Myungsoo rolled underneath a wing and heaved up with his golden sword.

Here was the exultant shout: the dragon bled a dark stream of blood, appearing like a molten waterfall of black substance. In the spark of a moment, Myungsoo thought upon the significance of this. Was this dragon an entirely different one as compared to the one he could never fell because his sword was incapable of piercing?

Same or not, the reptile descended to the sands and chased after Myungsoo like an unrelenting hurricane. Myungsoo cursed and ran for his life, redirecting again all his effort and mind to the slaying of the behemoth. He could run all he wanted but there was no way out, no route of escape. It was the single most dreaded enemy he had ever faced.

Gripping tightly onto his sword's hilt, he wheeled about and shot up into the sky. The dragon opened wide its jaws yet failed to devour its nemesis. Myungsoo had landed at the top of that colossal skull that rivaled a large boulder, if not a small hill for size. With a piercing yell, he sunk his sword to the hilt into the reptilian eye, the slitted eye that gleamed like a mystic ruby.

The dragon collapsed and flailed about like a fish on dry land, constantly whipping its large body about uncontrollably. Its tail curved in and like a whip, the thickness of a tree trunk, snapped at Myungsoo. When he would've yanked out his weapon from the ruby eye of the dragon, he was forced to jump in order to evade the deadly impact of the tail. As the tail swung a second time, he ducked underneath whilst digging his fingers into the thick scales of the beast. 

Had he not clutched onto the armor-like skin, the blast of air that came with the swing of the tail would've caused him to lose his balance and thus plummet onto a precarious position on the desert floor. Seeing as he succeeded in staying atop the dragon's head, he was afforded a chance to retrieve his blade while the dragon used its tail to sweep at the sands in a futile attempt to chase away the pain of losing an eye.

 Like a madman he released the sword from the bloody cavity, a geyser of dusky liquid shooting up and fully covering him. He was smirking, possessed by euphoria and quickly made short work of the second eye. The beast thundered again and this time Myungsoo was not so lucky but was tossed off that writhing titan when it sought to raise itself from the sands. 

He quickly shook off the brief dizziness that came from the fall and hastened to tear off a wing. It was a daring attempt, for like a wounded tiger or caged lion, this monster grows furious when it is pushed beyond its comfort and threatened with death. Just as furious was the runner who dashed underneath a lashing tail and past swiping talons. Clambering atop the wing that crashed into the sands, he pulled himself up until he maintained a flimsy but suitable poise with his thighs gripping the scaly limb. With another shout he stabbed the wing and hacked at it even when the beast tossed itself to and fro.

The dragon pressed itself on the sands and futilely attempted to shake off the man on his wing but couldn't. Myungsoo's efforts were paying off and there was no way he would let this reptile off so easily. Eventually, the monster was keen enough to twist its long, spindly neck and snap at Myungsoo. He jumped off to avoid those slavering fangs and ran for cover. 

The dragon stood on trembling legs, dragging its appendage that clung to its body by a small portion of flesh. It sniffed at the air and rushed when it caught whiff of its assailant, leaving a deluge of black blood behind him so that it appeared like an ebon snake following him.

Myungsoo could tell it was tired. Though giant the fiend may be, with such a loss of blood, even that beast must suffer untold damage with the weakening of its iron thews. He was exhausted as well, panting for air and wishing for the battle to finish quickly. He had pressed beyond his own limits and was now running with a limp. His pelvis had partially shattered when he was clashed against the rugged bulk of its body. Still, there was zero thought of giving up the battle.

When the dragon lunged itself at him, he wheeled like a tiger-chased gazelle and ducked underneath its still working wing. He groaned with every step and strained as he clung to the neck of the monster, pain shooting down every blue vein. It was a wicked moment of fast shifting scenes as he dragged himself up the neck and onto the cranium. There he stabbed and stabbed until at last all of its violent convulsions ceased.

Drenched in black, he rose to groggy legs and commenced to behead the dragon, an effort that drove him to the last remaining bits of energy. The thickness of its neck was tougher than most tree trunks and those hardy scales that covered its neck were resilient. 

He exhaled a gusty breath and wiped off the blood and sweat that impaired his vision. At his feet lied the head of the dragon and in his hand dripped black the tip of his sword. It would take a minute or two for him to react and gaze at his accomplishments. Even he was stunned that he had slain such worthy foe. They were alike, fierce and wild, stronger than all but he had come through at the end.

Cocking his head to aim an arrogant glare at heaven, he laughed.

 "I won god! I beat your servant! Now come and I shall make the same of you!" he shouted as  he stretched his sword-bearing arm up in defiance of the divine.

 In that moment- his sword, multiple hairline cracks that had gone unnoticed were stretching across the length of the blade until it finally broke. It fell to his toes like a magnificent, golden rain that glimmered underneath the intense light of heaven.

 "You cannot defeat it by yourself," a voice thundered, "Lo, your pride is but dust and ashes, and your strength has become like that of a babe's."

 Myungsoo had no chance to protest but fell like an iron ball to the sands, filled with miserable pain. His mouth gaped wide whence he his haunches and peered at the dragon that rose like a dreary shadow to its legs, totally whole and without even a hint of injury.

It ran toward him, and without power to even stand, he tossed his head back and laughed as though deranged. In a moment, he was swallowed whole by the dragon.

.........

This was the chapter I wanted to write the most, anticipating the moment from before I ever jotted down any sort of draft in regards to a first chapter... 

And I'm not sure if it shows - I think it does- but this particular chapter and the ones surrounding it (basically when they make it to "Laroo/Vitah") are different from the rest as I intended them to be sort of "droning on" in nature. I wanted them to evoke a type of sleep-inducing feel... like the Kull story, "The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune".

or maybe every chapter is too pedestrian? lol