When eagles alight from Believer’s Peak in swooping dance, Aeridus slips away from the monastery with a light pack slung over his shoulder, eager to be first in his class to summit the treacherous mountain. He pushes up the foothills through whipping winds, each gust feeling like a rebuke from his teachers reminding him that climbing Believer’s Peak is forbidden.

But forbidden or not, he’s seen the recognition given to summiters. Teachers give them a deeper nod of respect. When they approach the altars, they seem to glow with a soft silvery halo, as if even the goddesses heap praise upon the successful. If only his goddess, Vatayu, would acknowledge him like that.

Besides, the eagles are a sign from Vatayu, so even howling gales can’t stop him now. As goddess of wind and breath, perhaps she sent the winds to test him.

Heavy raindrops slap the rocky ground as he crests the first hill, when he sees a figure ahead, navy poncho billowing.

“Pallia?” Aeridus sniffs. “What are you doing here?” He’s not thrilled that a classmate chose to summit on the same day as him, especially not a Rulia worshiper. He’s always found followers of the water goddess inscrutable, as if they guard their thoughts deep underwater.

“What does anyone do on Believer’s Peak?”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like you have Rulia’s blessing, given this rain.” Vatayu discourages smugness, but self-satisfaction sweeps across Aeridus’ cheeks before he can quell it.

“Says the Vatayu worshiper who can’t even stand upright in this wind,” Pallia retorts.

“She’s just testing me. She knows I can handle it.” But as Aeridus looks up at the peak, he can’t help but feel like a leaf clinging to a twig in a storm. He charges forward, not wanting to show weakness. It won’t matter if she’s also summiting today if he gets there first.

He trudges in silence, listening to make sure Pallia hasn’t passed him. When the wind and rain let up, he finds he’s nearly walked off a ledge. Aeridus bounces on the balls of his feet as he gauges the distance to the other side. It’s too wide to safely hop over. But he feels Pallia’s eyes watching him, like she’s judging Vatayu through his actions. He remembers how Pallia always excels in tree meditation, balancing on a swaying upper branch in prayer, and how he watches her in envy while other Rulia followers beam with pride. He can’t back down here.

The moment his feet leave the ground, he can tell he didn’t quite put in enough power. His legs reach forward, yet the image in his mind drops him onto the prickly shrubs six feet below. But as he reaches the height of his jump, a stiff gust picks up, carrying him just a tiny bit further. His toes catch the lip of the far edge, teetering before righting himself. He whispers a prayer of thanks to Vatayu. He feels a momentary urge to gloat, to tell Pallia how great his goddess is.

Instead, he turns around to offer her a hand to catch onto. She’s nowhere to be seen.

“Enjoying the sights?” Pallia shouts from uphill. When he whips his head around, she points to a twisting path off to the side.

Even though she outsmarted him, he can’t help feeling triumphant anyway. The timing of that gust felt so perfect, that it could only have been Vatayu’s blessing. And as long as Vatayu is watching over him, there’s nothing he can’t do. He bounds forward to retake his position ahead of Pallia.

Towards the peak, the climb curves upward for the final stretch, where towering statues of their goddesses poke their heads into the low-hanging haze of stratus clouds. The sight should electrify Aeridus, but even slow ascent brings him swirling lightheadedness. His feet drag, and somehow the summit stretches farther and farther out of reach with each step.

“Vatayu…” he pleads, bending forward and pounding a fist on his knee. It doesn’t make sense. A follower of Vatayu should be coolly marching forward, unaffected by rarefied mountain air. Instead, Aeridus clutches his chest, each gulp of air insufficient. Where is Vatayu’s wind? But even when a breeze brushes past his face, it snatches away more air than it brings him.

He sinks to his knees, feeling just like the time he sank in the lake as a young child. Then, too, confusion swirled around him, and forces conspired to prevent him from breathing. Helpless, he tried to call out to the goddesses, but water squelched his cries in his throat. A teacher later found him washed ashore, unconscious but breathing. That’s why he never believed in Rulia—he’d never follow a callous goddess who doesn’t care that someone is drowning in her waters. But now, he wonders if Vatayu is no different.

Pallia had pulled ahead while Aeridus sat dazed, but she stops too now. “What’s going on? Weren’t you racing me to the top?”

“I won’t make it. Vatayu has abandoned me.” How is Pallia still so energetic, when his goddess is the one that controls the air? It’s not right. Unless Vatayu had never been helping him, and his earlier leap was sheer luck after all. “Maybe Vatayu never wanted me to reach the summit.”

Pallia wraps one of his arms around her shoulders and hoists him to his feet. “Vatayu picked today for your journey. Just like Rulia did for me. This moment on this day, out of all the possible moments in our lifetimes.”

“She made a mistake. Or I did, by misreading her intentions.” They stumble a few steps, but Pallia holds strong under his sagging weight.

“Or maybe she has no power at all.” “Or—” Pallia looks up at the statues of Vatayu and Rulia, reflections of their cloudy crowns gleaming in her eye. “—maybe she chose today because she knew I’d be here to help you.”

END