☼ ISHAK ☼اسحاق
"Saint Peter don't you call me, 'cause I can't go"
"Saint Peter don't you call me, 'cause I can't go"
This is the third winter you’ve climbed Veneror with Ruth. Yet, you wouldn’t say you are any more prepared for the biting chill. Every inch of the climb feels treacherous, and you keep a careful eye on Ruth’s every step ahead of you.
(It’s a long climb, and you’d rather think of anything than of what the end result of a fall would be. You’ve seen twisted bodies at the bottom of cliffs, and you would rather not see another. Not another you cared about.)
Every time Ruth’s hooves slide, you wince.
You really would rather be anywhere else. When you were younger, you’d thought it almost funny that this spire of a mountain top cradled the house of worship for all Novus. Oh, you could see the appeal of carving out an altar to the gods somewhere this forbidding, but it’s still a mountain top. There are places that are more opposite of a desert, but it’s still strikingly dissimilar. That said, there’s no location you know that could align with all five gods, so you suppose a mountain’s just as well.
Still, were you in charge of building a cathedral to send the priestly Ieshans to you’d have picked somewhere more sensible. Right next to the Oasis, maybe. They could have a procession through the streets of the city on the way so all their hanger-ons could get their fill of the sight of them and all the not-Ruth Ieshans could get their egos filled.
You really would rather be anywhere else, but Ruth is an Ieshan. You’ve eavesdropped on enough of the family tutors to have some idea of how much emphasis on familial duty Ruth grew up with. You are certain she wouldn’t be here either if she felt she had the choice.
The wind comes blowing blisterly, striking at your flank. Your scar aches. You look up, away from Ruth’s hooves and out at the landscape instead. The world seems to unfold from up here, like a scroll rolling across a desk. The view is beautiful, in the way only deadly things are. One wrong step...
“It looks like a storm is moving in,” Ruth says, tilting her head towards the sky. You focus on the sky instead of the land. Heavy, dark clouds are rolling in far faster than you’d like. “We should search for somewhere to wait it out.”
“Right on both accounts.”
You look over her at the path and squint. Ruth takes this trip every season and now that you are on your third year of following her, you’d like to think you are a veteran of sorts. You’ve made an effort to memorize the signs of a stop along the route.
“I think there’s a cave not far ahead, if I’m reading that marker right.” You gesture for Ruth to keep going. The thought of starting a fire is already warming you up.
Your first step as the two of you start moving again sends a stone skittering away down the mountainside. As you move on, some part of you is stuck listening for a landing you could never hear.
@Ruth | did I write this at an ungodly hour? yes <3!!! | “sixteen tons” - tennessee ernie ford
(It’s a long climb, and you’d rather think of anything than of what the end result of a fall would be. You’ve seen twisted bodies at the bottom of cliffs, and you would rather not see another. Not another you cared about.)
Every time Ruth’s hooves slide, you wince.
You really would rather be anywhere else. When you were younger, you’d thought it almost funny that this spire of a mountain top cradled the house of worship for all Novus. Oh, you could see the appeal of carving out an altar to the gods somewhere this forbidding, but it’s still a mountain top. There are places that are more opposite of a desert, but it’s still strikingly dissimilar. That said, there’s no location you know that could align with all five gods, so you suppose a mountain’s just as well.
Still, were you in charge of building a cathedral to send the priestly Ieshans to you’d have picked somewhere more sensible. Right next to the Oasis, maybe. They could have a procession through the streets of the city on the way so all their hanger-ons could get their fill of the sight of them and all the not-Ruth Ieshans could get their egos filled.
You really would rather be anywhere else, but Ruth is an Ieshan. You’ve eavesdropped on enough of the family tutors to have some idea of how much emphasis on familial duty Ruth grew up with. You are certain she wouldn’t be here either if she felt she had the choice.
The wind comes blowing blisterly, striking at your flank. Your scar aches. You look up, away from Ruth’s hooves and out at the landscape instead. The world seems to unfold from up here, like a scroll rolling across a desk. The view is beautiful, in the way only deadly things are. One wrong step...
“It looks like a storm is moving in,” Ruth says, tilting her head towards the sky. You focus on the sky instead of the land. Heavy, dark clouds are rolling in far faster than you’d like. “We should search for somewhere to wait it out.”
“Right on both accounts.”
You look over her at the path and squint. Ruth takes this trip every season and now that you are on your third year of following her, you’d like to think you are a veteran of sorts. You’ve made an effort to memorize the signs of a stop along the route.
“I think there’s a cave not far ahead, if I’m reading that marker right.” You gesture for Ruth to keep going. The thought of starting a fire is already warming you up.
Your first step as the two of you start moving again sends a stone skittering away down the mountainside. As you move on, some part of you is stuck listening for a landing you could never hear.
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