Chapter 12 Avalanche
Early the next morning, the people of Logos began their mountain-climbing journey.
Before them, the mountain loomed majestic and towering, standing at its base, Al could barely make out the halfway point, swallowing hard, his hands resting on the trees lining the mountain path.
In the past few hundred years, the people of Logos had acquired language and reason; they knew better what it meant to seek benefits and avoid harm.
Therefore, no one had ever scaled the mountain because the journey was fraught with danger, and at most, they had only roamed at the foot of the mountain.
They were the first people, the earliest of people,
the ones who wanted to understand death, the ones who sought the authority of life.
Al did not shrink back, nor did the wise men by his side; the hunters, following their orders, led the way, treading a mountain path only beasts had traversed, step by step toward the summit.
The Lifespan of Logos people was long, and thus each had amassed a wealth of experience in handling various dangers, coupled with their great physical strength and adeptness at climbing all sorts of terrains, their sharp ears capable of hearing in all directions, so Al and his company easily made their way from the foot to the midsection of the mountain.
During this more gentle leg of the journey, doubt in Al's mind gave way to a measure of confidence.
They advanced toward the summit, entering a forest of fir trees.
The fir forest exuded a chill, and the wise man couldn't help but shiver, looking up into the distance, there was snow far away.