(50) As You Wish

The giant walked ahead, Tara following behind. From this angle, she noticed some peculiarities. Well, he was already peculiar enough, but there were some additional things that stood out.

He had huge, muscled arms crossed in front of him as he walked, the veins bulging from his skin. He was completely hairless as far as she could see, and the horns atop his head were irregular, some pointing straight up, others curving, and still others pointing this way and that.

The strangest thing was the second pair of arms, much smaller than the first, clasped behind his back. Those, while looking rather normal for a human fighter, looked positively vestigial on the giant, who towered over eight feet tall, at least.

The arms did not appear atrophied or sickly; in fact, cords of agile muscles lined them, yet sitting just below the giant arms, they could only appear like those of a flightless bird.

The pair walked along the passage in silence, the light growing brighter with every step. Tara was contemplative, considering all that she had just been through, but she could only restrain herself for so long.

‘So, did I pass?” she finally asked.

“Pass? Pass what?” Myra replied, not looking back.

“You know, all that stuff. The passage, the cavern. Did I pass the test?” Tara clarified.

Myra was silent for a moment, seemingly considering before he responded.

“Some that have come to this mountain have called it ‘The Gauntlet’, but they, like you, have misunderstood its purpose. The passage through the mountain is not a test for you to succeed or fail. It is a challenge meant to draw out and highlight your strengths and weaknesses.

“You might consider it a preliminary rubric,” he chuckled, “else I would not have an idea of what to teach you.”

“You teach…fighting, right? Is it that complicated to figure out? Surely everyone just starts at a slightly different base,” Tara reasoned.

“What I teach, some boil down to fighting, but it is far more to me, as you will see,” Myra replied cryptically, still not so much as glancing back.

A silence passed between them for several long moments before Tara, again, could contain herself no longer.

“Well, what are my strengths and weaknesses, then?” she asked.

“That, I hope you will discover for yourself,” Myra said, chuckling again.

Tara huffed. Speaking with him was more frustrating than speaking with Nephthys, which was saying something.

They walked the path again, silent. Tara ran through her time in the cave once more, trying to suss out what he might have learned from her ‘performance’. Eventually, she recalled the end of the maze, and her mood soured further.

“Was it…all real? Were the things in the cave real? The snake? The…ogre?” she asked haltingly.

“Life will not always provide you with the closure you seek, dear child. You must learn to live with uncertainties and accept them,” he lectured. He paused and looked back over his shoulder at her. “And, perhaps, regrets.”

Tara followed, though she began to trail farther behind. She stared at the ground, moving lethargically.

“Perhaps it will be of no comfort to you, but know that every decision you have ever made, the good and the bad, has led you to the person you are today. In this way, successes and failures have forged you into your current form, and future successes and failures will continue to refine you.

“You may acquire regrets, may have them already, but it is those regrets that push you to do better, to be better, in the future. No decision you have ever made, even the bad, has been a waste,” Myra finished, allowing a blanket of silence to fall over them once again.

Tara sighed as she walked, picking up the pace, catching up with him. She must have appeared pretty dour for him to try to comfort her, though his message was one that had already buried itself in her heart long ago. If she could distill her entire life thus far into a single message, it would be to keep moving forward.

At last, after what must have been half an hour of walking, the pair broke out of the cave and into the clearest air Tara had ever felt. It bit at her and stung her skin like a thousand tiny needles and threatened the breath in her lungs, but it was like nothing she had ever experienced: clear, fresh, untainted.

“You will want to wear this. Your master thought ahead well. The coat will keep you warm, but more importantly, it will keep the breath in your lungs. The air up here will suffocate you within minutes,” Myra said, tossing the thick fur back to her.

She bundled up quickly, the familiar shield covering her body once again. She sighed in relief. Apparently, it was not just in her mind that the air felt like it was being stolen from her lungs.

She approached Myra, who stood atop a rocky shelf with a perilously steep drop. Gazing out over the mountain range, Tara’s breath was nearly stolen from her yet again. Peaks stretched toward the sky as far as her eyes could see, though she clearly stood atop the tallest.

Some were tall and slender, others were short and thick, but all seemed poised to snatch the sun from the sky, reaching ever for what lay beyond the blue. Snow-capped peaks were the entire vista, not a single patch of green visible, yet the scene’s beauty was unmatched.

“Behind, find my code,” Myra said, turning around and extending an arm toward the cliffside.

Next to the archway they had just exited through were carved six words in plain, huge lettering.

“Strength

Discipline

Determination

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Wisdom

Compassion

Balance”

“Strength: Will you act when you must? Discipline: Will you abstain when you must? Determination: Will you continue forward when you must? Wisdom: How will you move when you must? Compassion: Will you move for others when you must? Balance: None by itself is the solution, only harmony,” Myra finished, lowering his arm.

Tara stared at the words, considering what Myra had said as he continued.

“This is my code. It is a rather martial code, but it is a code nonetheless. This is what I teach. Fighting is only one part of life, and it is not—must not be—the primary aspect of one’s character. Fight when you must, be restrained when you can, and seek peace in all things.”

“Respectable, if ambiguous,” Nephthys suddenly said.