by Jason Letts
Their eyes turned to the mountains and the blue sky above, many of the students felt pleased that such a beautiful place existed and they were there to witness it. The long march seemed well worth it, and they entirely forgot why they had come until Fortst climbed onto the sand heap behind them.
“From what I hear, whoever can make it the furthest up these walls is the favorite for the Final Trial. So let’s see what you kiddies can do. Don’t hold back now!”
Looking up high enough to examine the walls of the basin, they saw the sand and wind had worn the surface considerably, leaving few sizable ledges. The walls were tallest near the chasm entrance, which caught the wind, and the shortest, most appealing walls flanked the dustfall.
The students walked around to the sides of the fall and looked at the rock face. Perfectly vertical, it still towered over them at ten times their height. They spied a few sufficient-looking holds, and it wasn’t long before they readied themselves to give it a try.
“Out of the way!” Vern said. “I’ll get this over nice and quick.”
He approached the face of the wall and raised his foot up to one stone jutting out from the flat surface. Putting his weight on it, he raised himself up and caught another hold. Just in case it would end quickly, Will elbowed his way to the wall on the other side and began to work his way up. Vern, several feet above the ground, reached his leg out to catch a stone to his right, but his foot slipped and a moment later his back was in the sand. Those watching him laughed.
“I’m still winning. I doubt anybody else will do better than that!” he said, getting to his feet.
Roselyn looked carefully at the wall. She put her foot in the same place Vern had, and she raised herself high enough to catch another hold with her hand. She looked at the stones she had to work with and the one in her left hand that held her in place. The next step would be to pull herself up with her hand and catch another stone with her foot. Instead, she hopped down from the wall and dusted off her hands.
“This is not a good challenge for me. I prefer a surprise victory anyway,” she said, resolved that it was not worth the trouble.
Will quickly found his way back down to the sand pit too, and other students were eager to take their places. Rowland and Mary began their ascent, and both seemed like competent climbers from their very first moves. Mary reached with her foot for the stone Vern had slipped on, but it held her and allowed her to take another step up. She looked around and saw little to work with. She held her hand out to the tiniest groove, slipping and falling as a result.
“Umph!” she groaned when her side collided with the sand.
Having watched the others, Mira felt confident she could put forth a good showing. After all, her father had been the best at this in his class, so it must run in her blood. She chose the side Will and Rowland had used because it seemed to have more holds even if they were smaller. As long as her shoes and balance held, she envisioned herself making it much farther than those before her. Next to her, Rowland lost his grip and jumped down to the ground.
A few students watched her thoughtfully as she selected different holds and stretched to create a new path along the old one. Despite sand getting in her fingers and eyes, both focused on the smooth stone steps. Pulling herself up, lifting and swinging her feet onto another ledge, she surpassed Rowland but not Mary. Eventually, her boldness proved greater than her ability. She reached out for a tiny ledge and had to put her weight on it before she had a firm hold. She slipped down and smacked against the hard sand. Spitting some of it out of her mouth, she heard Roselyn clapping from her seat up on the sand hill and took a quick bow before getting back in line.
On the other side, Chucky made his attempt up the wall. The temperature and the sun were getting to him, and already thick globs of oil dripped from his skin down to his shoes and the ground. He put his foot on the first hold and it slid off as soon as he put pressure on it, leaving behind a greasy coating. He tried again, this time reaching up to a ledge with his hand, but he couldn’t hold it for more than a few seconds before it became too slick to hold. Aoi stood behind him in line, and she stormed up to him as soon as she saw his effect on the surface.
“Get down from there! You’re mucking it all up!” she shouted, pulling him off as he went for a third attempt. Chucky shook some of the sand out of his shaggy hair.
“Look at this!” she went on. “Look at what you’re doing. Face it. You’re not going to be able to do this, so stop screwing it up for the rest of us. Now go over there to the failure club,” she ordered, pointing to Roselyn.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” he said, shaking his head at her.
“Not yet I can’t, but soon,” she snapped. “For now, just think of it as a dose of common sense!” Chucky looked to the rest of those waiting in line. His eyes met with nothing but blank faces, and so he climbed up the sand hill and took a seat near Roselyn.
Aoi jumped up to a small ledge above the ones covered in Chucky’s goop. She caught it with one hand, and her body hung down without any other support. Putting her foot against the flat surface, she swung herself over and launched herself several feet up and to the right. She caught another ledge with her hand, and the students applauded. Swinging higher and higher, she displayed incredible acrobatic feats. Without using her legs at all, the strength of just one arm was enough to pull her up.
While she climbed, Mira walked to the edge of the wall and put her finger to the oil Chucky had left behind. She rubbed it between her fingers and felt how slick it was.
Above, Aoi had far surpassed any of the other students, who gazed up at her. She scanned the rock face, searching for her next move. She looked down at the students below. She paused, unsure of what to do next.
“There’s nothing left to grab onto,” she whispered. Refusing to give up, she hopped up to the perfectly flat space above her and tried to grip the smooth wall. Without anything to hold on to, she slid back down the space, caught a rock with her foot, and then jumped down to the ground. She took a look up at where she had been, wiped her hands on her clothes, and boasted that no one could surpass her. But that didn’t stop her from getting back in line to try again.
By the time the students had tried three or four times, their limbs began to tire, and their attempts became less successful. When they fell into the sand, their exhaustion caused them to move more slowly, and Fortst took it upon himself to pull them up before the sand buried them.
***
Mira knew she couldn’t outperform Aoi or even Mary. Looking for another way, she got out of line, saying she quit, and began casually walking around the edge of the basin. Taking care to be discreet, she searched along the edge of the wall for another path. Her hand grazed the rock face, dragging her fingers against it.
A tune drifted into her mind then. She thought she remembered a simple lullaby her mother sang to her when she was young. It made her forget about her tired arms, and the wall appeared so clear in that moment. All of the ledges stood out as if they had a special light. Her mind awoke to them and understood the puzzle they created.
The tune continued as she passed the chasm opening and walked to the other side. Right there, where the wall stood highest, she could see the way. It looked as simple as a set of stairs to her. Placing one hand and one foot, she reached up and took hold of the wall’s first nubs. She felt a peace of mind and a focus in the gentle rhythm of the lullaby. Breathing easily, she scaled the wall. Her path gradually took her to the right, and she pulled herself onward with her legs and arms, feet and hands.
Climbing higher and higher, her feet finding firm footing on tiny ledges, she worked her way up the basin. The lullaby brought a warm feeling to the center of her mind, making her feel safe when she wasn’t, calm when she should be nervous, and attentive when she would be distracted. Mira ascended to many times her height, continuously climbing upward and to the right.
“Look!” somebody shouted, but she barely heard them through the lullaby. Her hands a
nd feet moved with the simple rhythm, and soon she had made it all the way over to where the other students were climbing, though she stood far higher than any of them had. Some students gasped, thinking that at any moment she would slip and tumble from the precipitous height. Fortst stood ready to catch her.
Mira’s classmates had all stopped climbing, though a few looked for where Mira had begun. The rest gazed up at her in awe. She continued to the right until she made it to a ledge directly underneath the dustfall. This ledge stretched for a few feet and had width enough to stand on comfortably. All of the students crowded under the fall, and she looked down at them with the wind blowing through her hair and the sun shining on her face.
She looked around to see if it was possible to get higher, and that’s when she saw it, a name scratched into the rock face: Kevin Ipswich. The wind and the sand had softened the edges, but the letters were unmistakable. Mira ran her fingers across them, and she imagined her father being in this very spot so long ago. This is how far he had made it, and he must have found the same path to get here.
Taking out the screwdriver she always carried with her, she scratched her first name under his. She dug as deeply as she could so that those names would remain long into the future. She decided she had gone far enough, and so she looked for a way down after she finished writing. It was a long way down to the sandy floor.
“How do I get down?” she asked.
Fortst motioned to catch her, and she let her toes hang over the edge. The lullaby had left her, and now jumping down seemed like a terrifying proposition. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and jumped. She felt Fortst’s arms around her seconds later, and he set her down.
“I’m impressed,” Fortst said. “Looks like you take the cake today.”
“I would’ve tried harder if I knew there’d be cake,” Chucky grumbled.
No one else found the spot where she had started her climb, though Mira had a feeling someone knew.
“Thank you, for that,” she said to Roselyn as they prepared to leave.
“For what?” she replied with a cool smile.
“You know what it is right, your power? There’s this little spot in your brain just behind the forehead that controls emotion. It’s called the hypothalamus, and your notes reach it,” Mira said.
“Is that so?” Roselyn replied. “I just like to think I bring out the best in people.”
Returning home proved to be much easier with the wind at their backs and a solid grasp of which direction they needed to take. It seemed especially easy to Mira, who still enjoyed the satisfaction of her achievement that day. Maybe it would translate into a better result at the Final Trial. It might also mean the others would finally see her as a serious contender, and they would try harder to knock her out as a result. Only time would tell, though little time remained.
An orange sun hung low in the sky by the time the group returned to the schoolhouse. Everyone yearned for a hot meal and a chance to wash away the sand that caked their skin. Spending a long time in bed sounded like a good idea too.
“Ok, troops!” Fortst called when everyone had arrived. “We’re just a few days away from the end. Our last day of class will be tomorrow, during which the Team Trial captains will deliver the order for the Final Trial. After that you will have three days of personal training before the Vernal Equinox and the Final Trial. Understood? Good, now get out of here.”
“I can’t believe tomorrow’s the last day,” Mary said to Mira as they walked down the forest path. Flowering plants littered the ground, and the tree blossoms were coming into full bloom.
“I know,” Mira muttered. She certainly couldn’t believe it. Though she’d only been there for six months, she could never imagine leaving or what would come after.
***
In what seemed like a flash, the next day arrived and the students returned to their desks for the last time. Mira felt a fondness for her worn desk and the ratty schoolhouse; somehow the thought of leaving it behind made it beautiful and precious. She pondered how the other students must have felt. Vern, Aoi, Roselyn, Mary, Will, and all the rest had grown up together in these schoolhouses sitting at the end of criss-crossing forest paths. A few stared blankly at the walls, moments from their lives no doubt skipping through their heads.
Even Fortst displayed a wistful melancholy. He wore the same thick trench coat as ever, but he betrayed his gruff exterior when his voice choked up.
“I tried to do my best by you. I did. It wasn’t always easy, but I hope when the time comes I taught you something that helps you. Just remember this, you can’t measure a life by its successes or failures. It’s the spirit that matters. Keep your friends at heart, and work for their good at all costs.”
He stopped for a moment, and the class sat in silence. He looked at each of them, displaying a sense of surprise at finding them matured. What did days ahead have in store for them? Though no one showed any signs of discomfort, Ogden Fortst felt compelled to bring the class to its final motion.
“Will the captains report the order of their teams? Roselyn?”
Slowly rising from her seat, the class could see that Roselyn bore the heaviest burden of them all. Her eyes were red and tears ran down her cheeks. She had been asked to deliver a list of five names, but instead the only thing that could come through her lips was song. The melody was simple but sweet, and it spoke to them all of the hardships they endured, the joys they experienced, and the memories they cherished. The last note trailed off, and even their hearts seemed to slow in the hopes of holding onto it.
“Jeremy, Mary, Will, Roselyn,” and here she cast a glance to Vern, but his face displayed no mockery or malice, “and Gerald.”
“Very well. Aoi?”
Aoi quickly rose from her seat, the one Mira had repaired. She looked around at her fellow students. Her face had a thoughtful and compassionate quality to it that she rarely showed.
“I just want to say I’m sorry. Chucky, Mira, Rowland, Andrew, and Aoi.”
“Very well,” Fortst said again as she returned to her seat. “Vern?”
But Vern had already stood up. His desk was near the side of the classroom, and so he could easily turn to address his classmates.
“It’s been a long road getting here, hasn’t it? Our Final Trial is finally here, and I know we’ll all pour our hearts into it. I’ve been class leader for a long time, but whether or not that continues doesn’t matter. I know we’ll be in good hands and we’ll work together no matter what happens. Oh, boy. Is it time? All right. Here goes. Kurt, Sophie, Dot, Dennis, and Vern.”
“Very well. Each of you will enter the grounds of the final trial one-minute after the one before. The last student standing will be declared class leader. We’ll be meeting at the meadow grounds near the first year house at dawn on Sunday morning. Don’t be late. Ok, that’s it everyone. Empty your desks and take everything with you when you leave, use your time wisely, and I’ll see you Sunday morning.”
Though he had clearly dismissed them, no one got up from their chairs. Fortst, taken aback, scratched his neck and squinted at the students. He took a step around the podium, stopped, considered repeating himself, decided against it, took another step, stopped, and then walked down the center aisle and exited the schoolhouse.
The students began to empty their desks at a slow, lethargic pace. Mira removed her notebooks, pencils, screwdrivers, nuts, and hammer. She emptied them into her bag, peeking into the desk to see if she had gotten everything. She had, and she felt sad that it was like she had never been there. The other students began to get up and mill about. No one seemed anxious to leave.
“Hey, do you remember when we were second or third graders, and we used to sneak up here and pretend we were seniors?” Will asked.
“Yes,” Mary laughed. “How did this place seem so mysterious and enchanting?”
“There’s only one reasonable explanation,” Will said.
“And what’s that?” Dot asked.
“We were dumb kids,” Will explained, and everyone laughed.
“Some things never change,” Roselyn teased. “There’s still some mystery here though. I’ll never figure out how this decrepit shack is still standing.”
“What do you think, one more game for old time’s sake?” Will said, reaching into his bag and pulling out his sack of Makara dice.
“Why not?” Mary replied. The students pulled some desks together and sat down. Will rolled the dice, which turned up a mouth, a fish, a chair, a tree, water, lightning, and a blank. Mira leaned over to see what came up.
“Make him lick the desk,” she said.
“But this is Dennis’s desk…and it’s still warm!” Will cringed to everyone’s amusement.
Smiling, Mira left them to their game. She grabbed her bag and walked through the door. A few students were sitting in the shade, talking and joking. On the other side of the clearing, Mira saw Chucky taking the path home, and she hurried to catch up with him.
“Chucky, wait up!”
He stopped and turned, confused.
“What? What is it?”
“Hey, I need your help with something. Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” he said, without hesitation. “What can I do?”
“Actually, I need some of your oil,” she said, pulling a glass bottle out of her bag. “This much would do. Is that ok?”
“No problem,” he said.
“Really? Great. Wow, thank you so much,” she said. Mira expected to have to make another deal or answer a bunch of questions, and so Chucky’s reaction brought her some relief. They agreed on a time and a place to meet before the final and then walked together down the path.
“Are you sad to be finished here,” she asked.
“It was good for what it was,” he said. “But I’m hoping for bigger and better things in the future.”
