An Adventure, Pt. 2
The pebbles under his feet knead grittily as the tall man s l o w l y makes his way
down
an ancient footpath through the woods.
it's quiet here.
The path feels as if even the wind has trouble making its way through the enclosed close-quarters of surrounding forest.
Sweat beads up and rolls
down
the man's neck,
dripping.
He doesn't own the ability to transport his consciousness into a new body.
Instead, he cares for the body he has.
Hiking this route every seven days is his way of reminding himself that fact.
He hikes without stopping all the way to the sacred oasis tucked mystically through a well-hid cave and
lowers
his body through a small portal in the ground where the cave comes to a dead end.
The ancients called this oasis what roughly translates to "unbiblical chord."
They believed this portal had the ability to allow a "mortal to return back into the
e t e r n a l
womb."
Every time at this point in the journey, he becomes filled, no
--o--v--e--r--c--o--m--e--
with human-like worry.
Still
after several years of weekly journeys, he doesn't understand why his imagination
r
u
n
s
away from him, childishly.
When he emerges from the other size,
he looks to be painted by black, liquid metal.
His eyes open white and intensely contrasted with the rest of his body.
He now moves cat-like
up the stone staircase
increasing his speed
as he moves closer
to the summit.
He reaches the top
just before the sun
goes
down
over
the surrounding mountains,
a personal best.
As his heart beat begins to s l o w and his vision begins to clear, a sight catches his eye.