The Journey to Enlightenment #BlogBattle

The Master, Sagar, sat atop of the tallest mountain to watch. He gazed upon the hoards of people risking everything to stand at his feet to feel his presence. Soon he would see those that were not true believers, just adventurers or voyeurs wasting his time. Gaps began to widen between groups, some turned back, with no stamina for this pilgrimage. Throwing his head up, he sucked in hard and began to blow. His breath of frigid glacial winds swirled the snow and rocked the mountain. He summoned Thundersnow to test those on the treacherous slopes. Only the strong-willed, committed and brave would be able to traverse the terrain and reach their goal. He was not about to make their task easy.

Only four People had stayed on the trail. There were two bearded men; of undistinguishable age who arrived first. Behind them were Luna and Aaron. Aaron had promised to help her, guide her to the top. He was relieved they were almost there. It took Persistence, endurance, willpower and a lot of strength to get her to this point. Luna had trusted Aaron and had followed his training to the letter, knowing how brutal the trek would be. The two men ignored Aaron’s advice and pitched their tent with the wind behind it. Luna worked through her fatigue, stamping a flat surface into the snow while Aaron cut bricks to build a snow wall around the tent.

Luna, exhausted and weak she shivered. Her teeth rattled as a solitary tear plopped into her hand a second froze where it dangled like a precious stone to her lashes. She pushed her face into her palms and silently sobbed. Aaron worried for Luna. He wrapped his hands around a flask of freshly warmed and sweetened Yak’s milk. “Here, drink this. It will do wonders for you. Sort your socks and gloves out. We can then sleep.” She flinched at his voice, having not heard much for the last three day’s other than the roar of the weather. Luna shuffled a few inches and pointed to space beside her “Thanks, sit here,” she nodded, her eyelids drooped as she lifted the cup to her lips and drank hungrily. Her eyes twinkled when she passed it back. “You too, it was brutal today. Are we short of rations?” Aaron gulped back his half, wiped his hand across his mouth and said. “We could be here for some time, by the sound of it out there. Let’s say if we’re careful we’ll manage, but yes rations are tight.”

The pair snuggled together, exchanging body heat, giving each other comfort. That night the storm grew to whip at the tent’s structure, screaming like a thousand warriors. Noise filled every space in the couple’s world. The whiteout somehow was somehow darker, more sinister than the black of night. The other tent, though only feet from theirs, was obscured. The storm raged on for two more days and nights. Twice Aaron tried to reach the other men, but it was too dangerous visibility was nil. Only his childhood skill for climbing like a mountain goat stopped him from being cast from the face of the mountain.

In the days that followed, Luna read aloud from ‘The Book Of Awe.’ She had found the book wrapped in a tan and white fleece inside a red Mahogany box, hidden beneath her mother’s bed. It was a Tome, full of Peruvian Myths and legends. There were photographs of her and Luna threaded between the pages. A tail feather of the Tunki bird she had pressed like a wildflower, the bird it was said to bring luck and prosperity. A talon from the Andanean Condor had been polished and hung from a leather thong. She found a lock of her mother’s hair haphazardly gathered in a strand of Alpaca wool. For weeks after her death, she had sat with her knees under her chin, reading. Sometimes Luna cried and wondered about this part of her. The Tome is where she read of The mountain and Khuno. He is said to be a high altitude storm God. She read to Aaron. “it says those who successfully reach the top to camp at his feet will get their wishes. People wrote of enlightenment and of having a new ethereal beauty and inner peace.

In In preparation for her task, Luna folded many paper birds. Each had a wish or a question that she inscribed in her best handwriting as the book requested. She will release the birds on the breath of Khuno, where they would be taken by the wind out to the universe. Luna stroked the picture of her mother, gently tied the lock of hair to the Tunki feather and fastened them to the paper birds. Aaron placed the thong inside her coat, pushed her offerings into a shoulder bag and held her close for the last time. ” I will walk you as near as I can. I will wait for you.” The wind had dropped, the fresh snow began to crunch beneath them as they made the final steps to the plateau.

If you were to be allowed to find the Book of Awe, You would read a tale of young lovers who beat all the odds to reach the feet of such a God. They climbed the mountain, overcame adversity, faced ferocious storms and the wrath of Khuno. Luna, a sun goddess and Aaron, whose Andanean name means mountain of strength, walk the realms of greatness with ancient Inca Gods together for eternity.

What myth or legend or old wife’s tale do you believe? answers please in the comments I can’t wait to read them.

19 thoughts on “The Journey to Enlightenment #BlogBattle

  1. Ellen, As always you have a way of writing that always captures and keep me riveted to the end. You have such a gift for writing. Thanks for sharing at SIPB. RT

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It’s amazing how many people in the past have lived their lives by myths and legends. Possibly still do in parts of the world.
    The belief was so strong. I’m a believer in a lot of old wives tales I have to say.
    I used to read a lot of mythology when I was younger. Not so much now. No reason, just other interests took over.
    I’ve always loved the legend of The Children of Lir.
    Great story Ellen. Mythology and fantasy is difficult to write. Well done! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Well done how the setting unfolded for us, and this didn’t take the twist I thought it would. When Luna wrote wishes on paper birds and tied her mother’s hair to the feather, I thought she was going to ask for her mother’s life to be restored. Instead she is taken up into the myth, so to speak, and much gets left to the imagination. Nicely done how you pulled imagery from a different culture!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I would have never integrated Peruvian folklore into a mountain climb, master at the top and all. And such a master, too. His displeasure would be considerably more of a problem than “Hey, I’ve got to paint my sensei’s whole place, and I still haven’t learned any karate.” Fun story. : )

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I wish this was a book. I would read it over and over. I want to climb that mountain and get enlighted.
    Would be a wonderful trilogy.
    Love, perseverance, strength of will.
    It has it all. A story to tell children about survival, willpower, and achievement. Something lacking in today’s environment.
    Well done Ellen, very well done. Proud as usual.

    Liked by 2 people

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