Tears on the Ledge

Life is a journey, and each person walks their own path. Along the way, we face challenges and joys that shape who we are. Sometimes, we strive for success, believing it will bring us happiness. But often, it is in the small, everyday moments that we find true fulfillment. A kind word, a shared laugh, or a deep conversation can bring us joy that lasts longer than any achievement.

We are all connected, and our actions can affect others. Kindness can create ripples of positivity, while negativity can lead to pain. This reminds us to be mindful of how we treat one another. In our struggles, we discover our strength and resilience. When we fall, we learn to rise again, and in doing so, we grow.

It's normal to feel lost or unsure of our purpose at times. Life is not just about reaching a destination but about experiencing each moment. Embracing both the highs and lows helps us appreciate the journey. In the end, to live fully is to learn, to connect, and to find meaning in our shared human experience. We are all travelers, searching for understanding and connection.

***Remius POV***

A few minutes—or perhaps only a single minute—after we heard the dreaded word "Climb," we began our ascent. The mountain loomed above us, vast and imposing, as if it were a living entity bent on pushing us back. The wind whipped against my face, cold and relentless, slicing through my clothes and stinging my skin like a thousand tiny needles. It felt as though the mountain itself resented our presence, its jagged surfaces offering no mercy as we fought to find footholds.

The air grew thinner with every inch we ascended, making each breath feel like a battle in itself. My lungs burned with the effort, and I could taste the metallic tang of blood at the back of my throat. How Liora and Lysander were managing this, I had no idea. Every inch upward was a struggle for me, a fight against both the mountain and my own body. Yet ahead, I could see them climbing with ease, moving as if the mountain was nothing more than a playground.

They were laughing. I could hear it faintly over the howl of the wind—their laughter. Light, carefree, as if this climb was just another one of their competitions. They didn't seem to be struggling at all, while every inch of progress for me felt hard-won, my fingers freezing as they gripped the icy rock. The cold seeped into my bones, numbing my hands and feet until I could barely feel them. But the pain was still there—dull, persistent, a constant reminder of how far behind I was.

I slipped.

For a brief, heart-stopping moment, my foot lost its grip, and I was falling. Panic surged through me as I reached out, fingers scrambling for purchase on the slick rock. Just in time, I caught hold of a jagged ledge. The impact sent a shockwave through my arm, and I heard a sickening crack as one of my fingernails split painfully against the stone. Blood welled from the injury, staining the cold, gray rock beneath me. But the cold had numbed my hands so much that the pain barely registered. Only the sight of the blood reminded me of the damage I'd taken.

I looked up again. Liora and Lysander were still ahead, their figures growing smaller as they climbed higher, their silhouettes dark against the overcast sky. They were so far ahead, so unreachable, that it felt like the gap between us was growing with every passing second. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't close the distance. They were always ahead, always out of reach.

Another hour passed. My shoes had long since worn down, the soles scraping against the unforgiving rock until they finally gave way. Now, I climbed barefoot, my feet raw and bleeding with every step. The sharp edges of the rock tore at my skin, each movement a fresh wave of pain. But I couldn't stop. Stopping wasn't an option. If I stopped, I'd be left behind. I'd be nothing.

The blood from my hands and feet left a trail behind me, a testament to my suffering, as if the mountain itself was keeping score of how much it had taken from me. My body screamed at me to stop, every muscle in agony, but my mind refused to let go. I couldn't stop. I had to keep going, even though I no longer knew why.

Another slip.

I barely managed to catch hold of a ledge this time, my fingers gripping so tightly that I felt the skin break once more. This time, the pain did register. A sharp, biting pain that shot through my hand and arm, but I forced myself to keep climbing. My body began to tremble with exhaustion, but I ignored it. I had to keep going. There was no other choice.

The wind howled louder, as if mocking my efforts. It tore at my clothes, slapping me in the face and nearly knocking me off the ledge. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps, the air too thin, too cold to sustain me. But I couldn't stop. I couldn't.

Another hour passed. Or was it less? Time had become meaningless, each second stretching out into an eternity of pain. My vision blurred, and I blinked rapidly, trying to clear it, but all I could see was the rock in front of me—the same unforgiving surface that had torn me apart piece by piece.

My body felt like it was moving on autopilot now. Each movement mechanical, instinctive. Climb. Reach. Hold. Climb. It was all I could do to keep going. I tried not to think about how much farther we had to go. I tried not to think about the distance between me and my siblings. I tried not to think about the cold, the wind, the pain.

But the thoughts crept in anyway, unbidden and relentless. What was the point? Why was I doing this? For what? Survival? Pride? Or maybe it was just stubbornness. Maybe I didn't want to admit that I wasn't like them—that I wasn't strong enough, fast enough, good enough.

Another slip.

This time, I didn't catch myself in time. My body lurched backward, and for a brief moment, I felt weightless as I fell. Panic surged through me, and I reached out desperately, my fingers grazing the rock before finally finding a hold. I slammed into the mountain, the impact jarring, and I bit back a scream as pain shot through my back. My grip on the ledge was weak, but I clung to it with everything I had, pulling myself back up, forcing myself to keep going.

The wind screamed louder now, almost as if it was mocking me. I could hear it in my ears, a relentless roar that drowned out everything else. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps, and I tasted blood in my mouth. How much longer could I last like this? How much more could I endure before my body finally gave out?

I didn't know.

But I kept climbing.

And climbing.

And climbing.

The mountain seemed endless. No matter how high I went, it never seemed to get any closer to the top. The clouds loomed above, dark and heavy, hiding the summit from view. There was no way to know how much farther we had to go, no way to know if I would even make it.

My mind began to wander, thoughts slipping away as the exhaustion overtook me. What would happen if I fell? Would I die? Or would I just keep falling, endlessly, until there was nothing left of me? Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it would be better than this constant struggle, this never-ending climb with no end in sight.

But I couldn't let myself think like that.

I had to keep going.

For what? I still didn't know.

The wind grew colder, the air thinner. My lungs burned with every breath, my body screaming for rest, for relief, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop. I couldn't—

Another slip.

This time, I barely managed to catch hold of a ledge, my fingers trembling violently as I clung to the rock. My arms felt like they were made of lead, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. But I held on, teeth gritted, forcing myself to pull up once more.

I don't know how much longer this continued. Time blurred into nothingness, the pain and cold overwhelming every other sensation. I was barely aware of anything anymore, just the endless climb, the relentless struggle.

Eventually, my mind went blank, and there was only one thought left.

Don't stop.

Just don't stop.

I lay there, sprawled on the ledge, my body limp and unresponsive. The rough stone bit into my back, but I couldn't muster the strength to move. My breathing was ragged, shallow, each breath more painful than the last as I stared up at the darkened sky. Clouds churned above, thick and ominous, but I could barely make out their shapes through the haze of exhaustion.

Was this it? Had I finally reached my limit?

The thought lingered in my mind, heavy and suffocating, as I tried to summon the will to continue. But my body refused to cooperate. Every muscle was screaming for rest, every bone aching with fatigue. My hands were torn and bloody, my feet raw from the jagged rock, and the cold had seeped so deeply into my bones that I could no longer feel anything but numbness.

The world was silent now. The wind had died down, leaving only the faint rustling of the clouds above. There was no sound of laughter, no voices of encouragement, no sign of Liora or Lysander. I was alone, just as I had been from the start.

A wave of despair washed over me, so intense that I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyes. I had tried so hard, pushed myself to the brink, and yet it had all been for nothing. The gap between me and them had only widened, no matter how desperately I tried to close it. They were always ahead, always out of reach, and I was left behind, struggling in the shadows of their greatness.

I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to let the tears fall, to give in to the overwhelming sense of failure that threatened to consume me. But I was so tired. So, so tired. And the weight of that exhaustion pressed down on me, crushing any last bit of resistance I had left.

I blinked slowly, and a tear slipped from the corner of my eye, tracing a cold path down my cheek before disappearing into the stone beneath me. It was a small thing, a single tear, but it felt like the breaking of a dam. More followed, silent and unstoppable, as the despair I had been trying so hard to ignore finally broke through.

It wasn't fair.

The thought echoed in my mind, bitter and resentful, as I lay there, staring up at the sky. It wasn't fair that they were so strong, so capable, while I struggled just to keep up. It wasn't fair that no matter how hard I tried, I could never reach them, never close that impossible distance between us. It wasn't fair that no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I pushed myself, it was never enough. I was never enough. I had fought and struggled and bled, and yet I was still here, broken and defeated, while they were up there, soaring above me without a care in the world.

What was the point? Why did I keep trying, when the outcome was always the same? When I was destined to fail, to fall behind, to be nothing more than a shadow compared to them?

The tears came faster now, blurring my vision, but I didn't bother to wipe them away. What was the point? I was too tired to care anymore. Too tired to fight back against the despair that had settled over me like a suffocating shroud.

I closed my eyes, letting the darkness take over, and for the first time since we had started this climb, I allowed myself to consider the possibility of giving up. Of letting go. Of accepting that maybe this was as far as I could go, that maybe I would never catch up to them, no matter how hard I tried.

The thought brought with it a strange sense of relief, like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. If I gave up, if I stopped fighting, then the pain would end. The struggle would be over. I could rest, finally, after all these years of pushing myself to the brink.

But even as the thought tempted me, a small, stubborn part of me refused to give in completely. It was a faint, flickering ember of defiance, buried deep within the darkness that had settled over me. A part of me that still clung to the idea that maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward. A way to keep going, even if I didn't know what that way was.

I opened my eyes again, staring up at the clouds, and for a moment, I thought I saw something moving within them. A flicker of light, a shadow shifting just beyond my reach. I blinked, and the vision disappeared, leaving only the churning gray of the sky.

Had I imagined it? Maybe. My mind was so foggy, so weighed down by exhaustion and despair, that I couldn't trust my own senses anymore. But that flicker of light, that shadow, had been enough to stir something within me. Something that wasn't quite hope, but wasn't complete surrender either.

I shifted slightly on the ledge, wincing as the movement sent a jolt of pain through my battered body. It wasn't much, but it was enough to remind me that I was still alive. That I hadn't fallen. That I could still move, even if it hurt.

And maybe that was enough.

Maybe, for now, just surviving was enough.