The Climb

"We have to go." Syllian looked up at the statue reigning above them.

"Go where?" Allen looked up at the statue's legs, at the winding 'path' up.

"There."

Syllian pointed at a section of the left leg where the cape was close enough for them to climb onto. If they could get on the cape, they could climb it all the way up to the head of the statue.

"Just me, or is that harder than you make it sound?" Theon mumbled under his breath just loud enough for everyone to hear him.

Orland and Danny didn't comment, they looked to Crude instead.

Feeling the pressure press down on his shoulders from the heavy responsibility, Crude looked at the path that Syllian pointed out.

"-It's doable."

Some sections had very thin ledges or no ledges at all and required them to jump.

The jumps may be small, but a jump at that height with your life on the line was risky.

"Risky, yes, but doable."

"What about grip?" Riley threw a shot at the plan.

Eyeing his cut palms and the small droplets of blood leaking through, Syllian knew the real danger was the lack of grip.

Their shoes weren't suited for a climb; the constant rainfall and the worsening storm would make it more dangerous with every second.

"We should go before the storm sweeps us away." The impromptu leader of the group turned his head to Syllian.

Feeling the man's gaze, Syllian carefully pushed himself up.

He followed the winding path up with his eyes, checking every corner of the statue's lower half of robes for a 'safe' route.

'I don't fucking like this.'

He found the path, but the look in Crude's eyes just now ticked him off.

That look told him everything he needed to know.

'You lead the way.'

Crude threw the responsibility into Syllian's hands, washing himself clean of the consequences.

If Syllian verbally confronted him things could turn south really quickly for him, Helen, and Allen.

'Was he that fickle?'

One thing fell apart so the older man wanted nothing to do with it anymore, but at the same time, he wanted authority.

But authority, in this situation?

'What good does that do-!'

Sometimes you don't know someone until the worst happens.

Clicking his teeth with his head turned away from the man, Syllian started the climb.

'Fucking garbage.'

---

The boy pulled after digging his fingers into the cracks, leaving behind a small trail of blood.

Overextending his left arm to the next point, the wound on his chest burnt bright on this dreadful night.

The gaze burning beneath those dark eyes of his was ablaze with the grimmest determination to survive.

Swish-!

A gust of wind blasted the climbing group into the grey rocks, almost pulling them down and into the incoming waters.

Grasping on, Syllian checked behind him.

Everyone was still there.

His current location was the right leg.

To get around to the left leg they needed to wrap around to the front of the right leg, he saw a glimpse of a ledge formed due to a fold in the robes on the front end of the left leg, but no direct path led to that ledge from the left leg.

Only the right leg.

Splash-!

A wave of darkness smashed into the feet of the Mistress, the true tide was about to arrive.

"Go faster!" Orland shouted at him from behind Allen.

"I can't!"

Syllian severely berated the man in his mind, faster?

'How can I go any faster without dying?'

Easier said than done-

Rumble!

The statue lightly vibrated, raising some alarms in everyone's brain.

"What was that?" At the end of the line, Danny turned his face down.

"See anything?" Crude was second to last in line.

Danny muttered under his breath with one, eerily calm word.

"Climb."

He spoke quietly, but they all heard it.

Nor did they need to be told. Syllian was already climbing onto the next protrusion. His arms were getting tired, and his chest consistently ached, but these weren't good enough excuses to stop.

Clinging to the grey robe, Syllian extended his right leg around a tight corner, planted it down, and then swung around.

Landing on a small platform.

Before he could rest Syllian put his hand around the corner and then felt a small hand grip his palm right after.

Pulling Helen around, he grasped the little girl in his arms and shuffled along to create space for Allen to follow.

The boy's wet hair flipped around the corner fast, Allen almost stumbled off the whole ledge but stopped himself with a timely catch.

"Alive?"

"Barely."

Allen threw the near-death slip-up to the back of his mind and stuck up to Syllian, there was enough space on this platform for the eight of them.

In Syllian's arms, Helen shivered hectically, her breaths were ragged and torn by periodic gasps for air.

The boy embracing her was in no position to worry, his chest was bleeding more than he expected, but placing so much weight on his left leg was draining his stamina slower than expected.

His gamble to get healed by Mr Rinton paid off.

'I'd be dead otherwise.'

One by one, Riley, Theon, Orland, Danny, and Crude piled up on the platform.

It was a small clearing on the robe of the statue, and the only clearing for the foreseeable future until they reached the left leg.

Syllian parked his gaze on the part of the robe that would lead them upwards and around.

It was a jump, not just one though; but multiple.

There were no more protrusions or little gaps they could take advantage of from here on out. They either jumped or waited for death here.

"Ptew-"

Spitting out a mouthful of rain that blitzed its way into his mouth, Syllian stared through the pouring rain and veil of darkness that occasionally lit with bolts of lightning.

Carefully, and patiently, moving Helen out of his arms, Syllian turned himself to the small platform of robe ahead of them.

"Should I go first?" Allen tapped Syllian's shoulder from behind.

Sparing Allen a glance, Syllian was about to gratefully accept, until he saw Crude's eyes.

'Fuck.'

What changed?

Why was he suddenly targeting him?

It was irrational.

It made no sense.

But there is always reason to the madness.

'A Mutant? Mind manipulation? Or did he just go stupid?'

Syllian doubted the last one.

"It's fine, I'll go first."

"Are you sure? You look tired, I don't think you should be first, maybe I sho-"

"Alright- Alright-" Desperately stopping Allen from going on another tangent, Syllian made a promise to himself that he would study mental illnesses when he returned to the real world.

This kid must have one.

"So I can-" Allen's face lit up, thinking Syllian approved of his decision.

"No!"

And Allen's face died, saddened that Syllian didn't approve.

Syllian paid him no attention.

Because-

The sound of crashing waves was deafening; the endless frosty rain was mind-numbing; the gusts of wind dancing around the statue were damning them to an early grave.

-there was a lot more to think about.

Facing the jump, Syllian pushed Helen back slightly, took a step back, and threw himself to the little platform.

Smacking the edge of it with his chest, Syllian hurriedly pulled himself up; biting into his gums as he endured the agonising panging on his wound.

Barely standing on the platform that was fit for one, Syllian looked to the next one.

'This is a long day.'

And jumped once more.

---

Drip...

Rain wrapped him eloquently as it washed off the blood staining the platform beneath him.

Leaning on the robes of the right leg, Syllian struggled to keep his body standing tall. The gash ripping through his left leg had torn open again.

The only salvation was the bandages strapped tight around it.

Fighting past the pain, Syllian turned to the previous platform, where Helen was standing.

Lifting his arms out, he beckoned her over.

"Come."

Performing a small run-up, the dark-haired child fluttered through the air; the powerful gusts of wind threatened to pull her away.

Catching her when she was a little bit short of his platform, he dragged her up and nested her on his little ledge.

She couldn't jump the gap anymore.

Helen was out of strength.

Soon enough Allen was wobbling on the previous platform, his face was drained of all blood.

'It's too cold.'

Syllian almost lost all sensation in his fingers, his feet were numb beyond saving and all his muscles begged for rest.

Looking out ahead, the rising body of water fully enveloped the island now. Below him, Syllian couldn't spot the stele anymore, not even the trees were visible.

The ocean itself had risen.

'What the living fuck.'

How could an ocean that was god knows how big rise up just like that?

Fortunately, they made it to the front section of the robes already. All that remained was reaching the platform Syllian had spotted before.

"Phew..."

Gradually twisting his body around with Helen in his embrace, Syllian faced the rest of the group.

After Allen jumped it was Orland's turn.

His damp, red hair swayed violently in the winds.

Performing a small run-up, his feet pushed off the ground and he quickly approached the next platform.

SWISH-!

An immense wave of wind abruptly assaulted the statue, pummeling itself into the veins of the Mistress.

Orland-

"AH!"

-was pushed off course.

Bang!

He smashed face-first into the lower section of the platform under the shocked gazes of the others, dazed and almost knocked out, the middle-aged man didn't give up so easily.

Reaching around the platform with his arms, he clasped onto a piece of rock right before dropping to his death.

An unwilling growl bellowed from the gutterous depths of his aged vocal cords.

Slowly pulling himself up, the man reached a point where he could place his elbow on the ledge.

Under everyone's apprehensive gazes, he finally placed his upper body onto the platform.

Relaxing slightly Orland pushed himself onto his feet, weary not to fall after his efforts.

Taking his first step.

Splash.

The grip on the soles of his shoes gave out, and with it, it took down his body.

Falling backwards, the man looked up at Theon's face from the platform before his.

Lifting his arm he wanted to scream for help.

But there was no one to save him.

Death was closer than any of them had thought.

And Orland was the trigger for this cruel truth.

SPLAT-!

Smashing head first, his skull ripped open, revealing shattered bone fragments and brain matter.

Staining the side of the Mistress, his body crumpled into a mushy paste as it rolled down the side of the statue.

Until finally-

Splash.

-his body dropped into the waters.