My Little Lizard

After talking a bit more, Vittoria decided that she would stay with Gilgamesh for a bit longer, in order to speak with him some more about certain matters. She also wanted to take him up on the offer to spar, since he claimed to know a lot about swordcraft.

Wanting to have her own foodstuff, Vittoria left for town to buy some stuff that she wanted. While she was gone, Gilgamesh got to thinking about a lot of things.

"I've been feeling really weird these days... Exercising isn't helping as much as it used to."

Rubbing his chin, he wondered why such a thing was happening to him.

"It's like my body isn't able to keep up with my spirit or something. It feels somewhat similar to how it felt when I was still in the Library's Bookspace."

"Perhaps I need to try something else."

Gilgamesh sat in the middle of his living room, got comfortable, and then closed his eyes and started to adjust his breathing. He emptied his mind and tried to 'dig deep,' the way Vittoria had suggested.

If, perhaps, he could reach out to something within himself, he might be able to understand his path forward.

Instead, he just ended up sitting in silence with no clue as to what he was doing or how he was meant to do it. Uncertainty sank in, and he eventually gave up on that course of action.

Even though he gave up on that, Gilgamesh noted that the way he felt was quite peculiar. He did not feel nearly as uncomfortable in his own body as he did mere moments ago.

"I'm definitely doing something right... but what do I do now?"

An unconventional idea came to him, which he quickly acted upon.

'They said I couldn't cultivate, but what if that's 'cause I'm not meant to cultivate in any way they know of? What if, as an anomaly, my cultivation is also anomalous.'

So, Gilgamesh shut his eyes again and began trying to feel for something out of the ordinary. He tried to get a hold of some kind of force or energy- even a presence that was otherworldly or spiritual in some way.

Despite how hard he tried, nothing came to him. There was nothing he could do or feel that was helping him. There was no indication as to how he could even go about trying to cultivate.

Realizing that he probably needed access to the proper technique, so he could dissect it before coming up with a way of his own, Gilgamesh sighed.

Though he realized this, Gilgamesh did not yet give up. He continued pushing and trying to accomplish something through meditation that he could not exactly figure out on his own.

A part of him was hoping that the 'impossible' idea inside of him would help him out, but that did not happen.

Yet, he could not ignore the fact that the harder he tried to do what he could not do, the more he felt like his body and spirit were reaching an equilibrium.

Still, despite that, he was unable to achieve anything out of the ordinary.

At some point in the evening, Vittoria returned and saw Gilgamesh in his bizarre state. She did not disturb him, but simply put down her items and plopped down on the couch.

Gilgamesh had been at it so long that he started to get tired. He did not even know when he started to feel sleepy, and fell asleep while in that position.

Gilgamesh had a dream as he slept, which started off quite nice.

He was in a field of clouds and stars, hovering above a bright pink paradise with purple beaches and bright yellow trees. The world was lively and peaceful, and everything that could go right did.

Gilgamesh took in the view of the world below him and was all smiles.

As he was basking in the glow of paradise, a star from the sky above him slowly made its way over to him. It stopped when it was just a few inches from his face, and lingered in his eyesight.

It was completely still, as though it had never moved in the first place.

Gilgamesh looked at this oddity with interest, but that look in his eyes slowly morphed into confusion.

Then worry.

Then anxiety.

In his heart of hearts- the core of his soul- Gilgamesh knew that this little star that fell from the endless sky of stars... was watching him.

Observing him.

Weighing his every move carefully, working out a mystifying equation that would lead to an answer only it could calculate.

Gilgamesh, finally realizing this, tried to move away from the star. He thought that, if he could escape, he would no longer have to fear being under that star's chilling gaze.

However, the very moment he tried to leave it behind, the star made a mad dash for Gilgamesh, ignoring any law of physics and common sense. With incomprehensible speed, the star fought its way into Gilgamesh's body and merged with him.

At that very moment, the utopian world around Gilgamesh was swallowed by darkness; he was now standing in an empty meadow of colorless grass, outlined only in a dull grey color.

In the distance, without so much as the separation of a shoreline, the meadow vanished into a colorless sea of water, its shape outlined in bright white.

Confused, Gilgamesh tried to understand where he was and what was going on. Instead, his mind threatened to break at the very thought. He was unable to grasp the truth of this place.

He lacked substance- a foundation on which to base his understanding.

In far less time than it takes to describe, four enormous mountains of numerous bright colors rose from the border between meadow and sea. They grew into the empty sky and even further beyond.

Their peaks resided in a place that Gilgamesh could not even see.

As the mountains loomed over him, casting him in their endless shadow, Gilgamesh felt the twinkling flutter of a star as it hovered near him.

He was startled by its sudden appearance, and his body jerked as he instinctively tried to move away from it. When he realized that it was the exact same star, he gulped.

Yet, the feeling of fear did not return. Instead, he felt the star's presence to be a comfort in this strange world, a place he could not understand.

He felt as though it lessened the burden on his mind, at that it was supplying him with the means to find his footing.

In the same moment that the star appeared, Gilgamesh also started noticing that the grass of the meadow nearest to his feet began to attain a bit of color.

He saw the green of the leaves and stalks, and the bright purples and yellows of tiny flowers stemming from them.

Again, he looked to the mountains with a twinkle in his eye, desiring to understand them. His desire did not go unnoticed.

In fact, it was what the star had been awaiting.

As Gilgamesh yearningly stared at the four giant mountains, the star inched closer to his ear. "You wish to climb, little lizard?"

Although a voice was the last thing he expected to hear, Gilgamesh was not surprised. He felt like he recognized this voice. He felt like it was his closest friend.

The star came closer to his ear, and twinkled in unnerving silence. Gilgamesh's eyes never left the image of those four infinite mountains.

"I want to climb," Gilgamesh said with fervor. "I want to climb and keep climbing, no matter what."

The star lingered just outside of Gilgamesh's ear canal, transmitting its voice straight into his head. "Even if the little lizard is faced with death, it will climb still?"

"I will climb," Gilgamesh replied firmly.

"Even if the little lizard can never see the peak, it will climb still?" The star's voice became a whisper, and subtle undertones of emotion started coming across.

Subtle traces of excitement... of triumph.

Of desperation.

"I will climb!" Gilgamesh affirmed.

"Even if the little lizard must put its life and soul at risk, and brave a fate worse than erasure? Will it climb still?" The star shuddered, as though warm feelings of ecstasy were coursing through it.

"I will climb still!" Gilgamesh shouted, taking a step through the grass toward the four mountains.

"Will the little lizard sacrifice anything and everything, all so it can climb!?" The star was, at this point, leaking light and glitter.

The same way a hungry beast of greed would leak saliva from its mouth as it stared at its prey.

It moved from Gilgamesh's ear to his face, to his other ear and around again. It encircled his head like a shark preparing to strike, and only became more excited.

"I will climb no matter what!" Gilgamesh took another step, coloring even more of the grass as he did so. His body desired to be close to those mountains, and it moved without his direction to move.

The star finally came to a halt between Gilgamesh's eyes, but he did not even look at it. His full attention was on the four mountains ahead.

"Climb then, my little lizard. I shall give you what you need."

The star then sunk into the flesh between Gilgamesh's eyes, and entered the very quintessence of his person; it reentered his soul, its parting words echoing in Gilgamesh's ears.

"Climb earnestly, and we may make a dragon of you yet, little lizard."