They reached the summit village, feeling grateful for the sight. The vans passed a large sign next to a gatehouse that was so covered in lichen that it looked nearly as old as the forest behind it. The rocks of the road began to level off and they found themselves entering a large clearing among the tiny stunted spruce. To the left there were no trees, and the expanse of rocky ground sloped downward in placid but steepening folds. Straight across there and beyond was only sky, filled with the murky gray of a cloud. The road diverged though, and they turned onto the right-hand lane. Here at the summit a sizable rock wall had been erected, and the road split to pass it on both sides. Windows poked from the holes high in the wall, and sigils were painted here and there to signify the varying dominions of trade guilds and religious groups. Rounding the next corner, Ayleah saw that the wall was really a circle, fortifying a small space on the summit of the mountain. Within lay a sheltered square, ringed with important-looking offices and various mystical businesses. Peak Abrahim was a flagship among the mountain communities, sprawling along the open west ledges and furrowing into the krummholz wherever it could. What had begun as a loose collection of spiritual seekers and mountain hermits had over time solidified into an open sky city of sorts, hugging the mountain's highest point. Other fledgling rural towns in the region looked to the success Abrahim had enjoyed, even considering its naturally harsh conditions. Only three peaks in the whole range were higher than Abrahim's summit, and few communities endured such exposure to the elements. The circle-wall was essential to the stability of the village, and the offices which remained established within had reached a very stately and respectable status.
The township square was quiet today, dampened by the weather. Under a blanket of gray and surrounded by the cold stones, Ayleah's mind drifted from any sort of goal. Leaving the others to distribute cargo and do business with the town's Premir, she wandered through a small park on the side of the square. Places for sitting had been constructed around a circular area of the ground-rock that was strangely gold-colored. As Ayleah stepped onto it, she realized it was actually a large disc of metal set into the rock long ago. On its surface were scientific-looking markings and carved letters with the name of the peak and its elevation relative to the zero-point. The quaint public space marked the highest point on the mountain, but was immediately overshadowed by the constructed wall of rock next to it.
A set of stairs led from the park up to the top of the wall, and Ayleah climbed them, knowing the views would be limited anyway due to the clouds. Reaching the summit to find it languishing in the middle of a cloud had been somewhat disappointing; Ayleah reckoned the views on clear days down towards the river valleys must be spectacular. She was practicing the virtue of patience though, something she had learned in the meditation class back at the Sanctuary. In that class she found that experiences can happen on may different levels, all of which are a part of reality. Though the outside perception be clouded, the views of things nearer to oneself may be panoramic.
Blank gray and clinging mist where there should be a soaring and open reward for climbing is also a kind of zen lesson. The journey up the mountain had been enjoyable in its own ways, and so should not be dampened by one missed experience at the top. Each moment is its own moment, and two moments need not affect each other in a qualitative way. Just like in our three dimensions of space, we can learn more control over how points of time relate to each other.
In the moment of not seeing a view from the mountaintop, Ayleah knew she had a choice to re-examine the situation for its beautiful aspects. Oftentimes a person, place, or thing will have glorious and magical attributes which are not readily apparent from the natural casual perspective. If we cannot see the beautiful things of the world, we must engage in the act of shedding our perspectives and seeing those things with fresh eyes. The blankness of the cloud made her appreciate the meadows and tufty bushes on the rolling alpine terrain. Where gentle plants did not grow, there were sometimes sparkling puddles dispensed from the cloud. The village was all soft rocky hills and pleasant sandy lanes. It felt almost cozy, as if it were safe for once from the open sky.
The wind was a reminder though, of where she really was. Looking up, she could see streams of cloud moving fast over the mountain. Unseen, the wet air passed through town constantly with a rawness undimmed by any canopy of trees. Trees here cowered away from the wind, barely reaching the edge of the peak. Some that braved the ledges lay flat and grew mostly sideways all their life- all that the elements allowed. Ayleah shivered and tightened her coat. There was a rough staircase leading down the other side of the wall, and she began to descend thinking she would just walk back around on the outside street to re-enter the village center.
At the bottom of the stairs was what looked like another park. This one was less well-kept, but bore signs of use and appreciation nonetheless. It centered around a similar metal-paved area, and Ayleah looked for what it said, curious there should be another one so near. Its surface was older, with more marks of wear. Most of the numbers and engravings were the same, but where the other shinier one proclaimed “Abrahim”, this one named the summit “Pocock Hill”. Ayleah wondered if there was some significance to this, perhaps a local rift or change in government. When the old names of a place are removed, often they are forgotten entirely, only dredged up by some studious historian many decades later. If the new name has a narrower significance, or one shallower to meaning, that is a loss for the place. Here Ayleah noted the preservation of an old name, though it had been relegated to a space outside the walls of the central village.
Reflecting, she let her eyes wander over the rolling expansive landscape. From here the peak could be any height; just a bit of land among the rest. The fact that it was raised up so high, isolated and special, was a very complicated act of luck. Those who lived here seemed noticeably proud of their accomplishment, and each dwelling tucked under rock or moss or bush looked quainter and nicer than the last. Some were very basic, and the lifestyle here was certainly rustic, but the community was quiet and friendly to each other; everyone had their own reasons for being there, and could fairly easily choose their neighbors.
To the east, the trees closed in a bit more, forming small groves that hid meadows of lichen. Off in one of these meadows some distance from the wall Ayleah saw the orange-red eyes again. Kaeri must have also skipped the meeting with the Premir, and had gone for a stroll as well. They waved, and Ayleah walked over.
