So here is another old second year piece. I wanted to create a landscape that felt bizarre and otherwordly, inspired by Plato's "Theory of Forms" (that our world and everything in it is just a "shadow" of the real world). It then turned into this giant mountain and I wrote a short story to go with it. So here it is:
The Peak
The dusty, timeless rock felt warm to the touch. As he looked up for the first time since arriving, Paul felt the enormity of the task ahead of him. A huge overhang, followed by an even larger vertical, stretching ever upwards. Standing before him was his goal... no – his life's ambition, his very purpose, as he saw it. To be the first man ever to scale this giant among giants. The preparation had taken the best part of two years. There had been constant debates and planning of routes, dealing with the authorities, finding the best team for the task and the best equipment. Paul had finally begun his ascent.
Two hours and fifteen minutes in. Three hundred meters climbed. The sheer rock face was being kind to them thus far. But there was no question that with each hour of climbing came a greater challenge, and a slower rate of ascension. The rest of the men were mostly in high spirits, despite the thoughts of doubt and worry that tugged at them in the back of their minds. These thoughts would not deter Paul however, who had left his wife behind to battle this mountain. He recalled the furious arguments they'd had, the holes in the flimsy plaster walls where ornaments and various forms of crockery had left their marks. The threat of a divorce was a risk he was willing to take. Sacrifices had to be made, if he were ever to realize this dream.
Paul had started climbing at a very young age – at the age of two he ascended his first climbing frame, much to the dismay of his mother. By nine, his deft climbing skills had taken him to the tops of the highest trees that could be found where he lived. By eighteen, he had been the youngest male ever to conquer Everest. The second largest mountain in the world was child's play, was a mere warm up trek for this very gargantuan tower of stone.
Eight hours, fifty seven minutes in. Roughly five hundred and fifty meters climbed. Progress was slower than they had anticipated. A dark mood had finally gripped the men. There had not been one single ledge large enough so that even one man could rest let alone four, and from the looks of it that wasn't about to change any time soon. How could this be? The route had been well thought-out, at least as far as they could discern from the highest reaching maps and images of the mountain they could find. Still, each of them knew the risks when they agreed to join this upwards expedition- and thoughts of fame and glory still flickered in their minds, weakened as they were.
Twelve, to fourteen hours in. Night-time. They had become nothing more than a mess of men and rope. It was freezing, being up this high, and oxygen tanks had to be used every-so-often to stop them from collapsing. A difficult thing to do whilst scaling an icy rock face.
The past few hours had been a sombre experience. Climbing was excruciating, with each effort made to grasp the next hold being a painful grinding of stiff bones and burning sinew. The wind tore through the padded thermal clothes, like a sandblaster through paper. Numb fingers inside superficial gloves lost their grip constantly against the icy rock. It was pure agony, yet they still clambered on. There was no going back – at least not for now – as the last place they could rest was three hours back. It was easy to believe that another had to be and would be found soon.
Something dark flashed past the left side of Paul. He spun his head downwards to see what it was. Falling into darkness was one of his team. He dropped like a stone, the only noise being the furious flapping of his jacket as he plummeted silently back down to earth.
It was only at the next resting point that they managed find that the identity of the fallen climber became known. It was Jack, the only other climber out of the group that Paul knew well. He was a close personal friend, who now was at least eight thousand meters away from him. Paul consoled himself with the knowledge that Jack would have wanted it this way. The climb would continue on. There was some comfort to be had however, as judging by their calculations with merely another two to three hours work they could reach the summit.
Paul took the lead now, the other two men had begun to burn out, their movements becoming sloppy and inconsistent. The drive to reach the top was simply too strong for Paul. Nothing was going to stop him – no authorities or a wife or the loss of a friend could change that. He felt it was the meaning to his existence.
Time felt distant. Paul's watch had frozen. Wasn't supposed to. Mechanical fault. Lost two more men. One fell, one froze sleeping. Took his clothes for warmth. Only Paul was left now.
A long time had past. The wind had finally begun to die down. A strange feeling of euphoria drenched him. But why? Paul hadn't thought of anything for what felt like days. His body had kept climbing instinctively. He simply couldn't understand at this point.
As his mental processes slowly awakened, he could feel the pains across his body, the peeling of the damp skin in his boots, the dryness of his mouth, the dust rub across his gloves... the rock felt warm. Soon he realised the monstrous cliff had begun to recede. The summit was in reach. This news had kick- started his adrenaline – he heaved, clambered, then finally ran until the slightest piece of raised ground had disappeared. He had made it to the peak.
The summit of his greatest accomplishment. Paul could see clearly now, clearer than he had ever seen before. The peak stood underneath him in all its magnificence. There wasn't a trace of snow to be found, not one iota, only sedimentary rock, the bare body of the mountain. It was a pale brown with hints of grey and yellow speckled across the dappled, undulating surface. The rock's composition was fine- grained and etched with a series of cracks and crevices. There were large chips in the surface where pieces must have eroded and fallen off, like giant spear heads to the Earth below.
Wind was nowhere to be found, not even the gentlest of flits. And the view! As Paul looked out from the peak he could see... nothing. There was no sky – only a murky grey void where the sky should be, perfect in it's unchanging tone. He looked down at the mountain he had spent so long clawing up. It had begun to dissolve into a black, multifaceted form, something beyond the elemental. Only the peak remained.
