North Star: Chapter 2 - The Bluff (1 of ?)

Rain grit her teeth and hoisted herself up onto the ledge.

"What a climb..." her breath came in harsh pants. Oxygen was terrifyingly thin at this altitude, but even with her lungs burning, deprived as they were of precious breath and drawing more in wracking heaves, she found herself breathless. 

It was a sight to behold.

Peering over the bluff she could see even farther into the steep sloping walls of the ravine.

If one looked carefully enough, they could glimpse the thin, sparse, and sinuous paths that wound huge loops in their ascent and descent both.

Paths, she had called them. But really, it was just the flats of animal trails amongst the rocky outcrop. Imperceptible except to the trained eye. The crude rocky terrain and Nature's reclaim left little of the mark of the Hou-Ahkka Sherpas.

Howa•hkah.

She chided herself for the mental slip in enunciation. Her Aurtrine accent still somewhat outlandish.

The ravine extended deep into the Earth, a stygian trench of endless night, impenetrable to the meek sunlight that filtered through the clouds.

A particularly strong gust nearly sent her of the ledge she had just climbed and she grimaced, crouching low and putting a wary distance between the edge and her person.

Not even the seasoned Sherpas dared venture into the Kukuli Mahn, or "Gaping Maw". Certainly, the experienced vagabonds could. Even the children were far better mountaineers with more experience than Rain could hope for in the little Time she had spent in these arid lands.

Nay, it wasn't the perils that kept them afar. It was a holy ground. A sanctuary.

The only Time the Sherpas would tread upon and ascend the ridge of the "Stone Dragon" was to lay the remains of their deceased.

Brown eyes scanned the sharp jutting stone. It was all quite fascinating really. 

Long ago it was said that a colossal dragon had fallen asleep here, and had awoken to life on his back. So fond of them was he, that the dragon stayed, that he may watch over them until the end of their Time. So long in fact, that his body perished, and through patrifaction, became the stone itself.

Closing her eyes she recalled the lively lore the storyteller had regaled her with while around the campfire. Even now she could smell the smoke, feel the flickers of heat as the wind changed. 

How it became the dragon's breath, the heat his exhalation.

Millenniums passed as he slumbered, and when he finally awoke, it was to life, thriving not around him, but on him. 

Thought he yearned to spread his wings, he dared not take to the skies, lest harm come to the quaint life that had so grown on his back. 

He stayed and watched over the diminutive creatures that flourished on his scales. Small and finite lives that were but a flicker in eternity. 

So long did he watch over them that his body became stone, for there was no water nearby that he could partake of, and slowly too did the life shrivel on his back. Where before they thrived on the perspiration of his form, and the mist of his expelled breath, did they now too dry up.

But never once did the dragon move, for fear of disturbing the small creatures. 

There were many stories of the dragon and his kin. How they taught man to make fire, or how the rolling waves of heat were their breaths.

Rain stretched her body, strength returning to her, having finally caught her breath.

Tucking a stray strand that had come loose in her climb, she hefted her pack on, careful to keep the weight evenly spread and on her waist rather than shoulders. 

She squinted at the scant clouds.

It was almost Time.

There was a glimmer somewhere deep in the darkness of the ravine.

She trudged back, giving her as much distance between the edge and herself.

Now.

And then she went off at a sprint and leapt.