The Predator's Peak

Note: Image associated is from Ironage.media, specifically their prompt, 'The Tiercel'

Justin Lefsy was seated, poring over his books and scrolls of healing lore, trying to find any option. None presented themselves. Sighing as he rolled up the latest useless scroll in his mad search, his eyes wandered over to that one undisturbed tome in his Master's study. He'd never once touched it himself, nor had his teacher acknowledged its existence, save the one time Justin looked at it overlong. The memory had stuck in his mind ever since, his oft-jubilant mentor not uttering a word as his wizened hand stuck fast to Justin's jaw, the same year his chin hairs had begun to grow. His Master dragged Justin's face to his own, far too close for any sense of comfort, and a single shake of his head told him that that tome was never to be touched. Even now, twelve years later, that warning stayed his mind from considering it as an option.

That was until he heard a croaked whisper from his Master's bed. "Justin. Justin."

"Sir, don't move; you're too ill." Justin nearly ran to gently pin his weakened Master to the bed and found that his Master was stronger today than he'd been in weeks.

"Stop it, Justin. There's something you must learn before I die." His Master pushed Justin's hands away, nearly toppling the young man onto the heavily blanketed bed. Justin barely managed to stop himself from falling atop his Master, pulling himself back up, and long hours of transporting patients to their graves once again proved helpful as his legs held him steady. His Master spoke as he struggled up from under the blankets, "The book, and you know the one I mean. You must take it to the Peak. It's there that you'll learn to understand it. Same as I did." His Master shuddered just before the wracking cough ripped through him again. A wet, hacking thing that had stained his Master's beard faintly red against its usual gray. It had kept the both of them up through a few nights and more frequently over this last week. "Up the mountain." Another fit nearly stole the words before he heard them. "Take it. Learn from what finds you." His Master fell back into the bed, and his voice collapsed again to a whisper, "And I'm sorry, boy. So, sorry, to send you there."

Justin almost didn't realize that his Master had died in front of him, not until he felt the air in the room shift, the same way it always did, whether the patient was the farmer's prize cow or the farmer himself. He checked his mentor three times before he accepted the truth and dared not think about his last command until he had loaded him onto the cart, bundled in white linen as was tradition. As he dragged the cart to the church, his eyes darted to and back from Predator's Peak, the not-quite-lone mountain that punctuated the sky. It was a fool's errand to approach it, let alone climb. Not that those warnings had stopped treasure-seekers or local, foolish youths from trying. The locals almost always returned. Treasure-seekers, not so much. And now his Master's dying wish was for him to try that strange mountain, to understand a book? It didn't make any sense.

As Justin returned to what was now his home, he stalked up the stairs to the study and pulled the tome from its place. It was far heavier than it had any right to be, heavier than even the gilded tomes his Master's Master had been gifted from the King of Adremar for saving the Prince's life from a wound that had festered. Strange that so thin a folio could weigh so much. As Justin sat down once more, he tried to open the tome and found he could not. It simply wouldn't budge, even slightly. Even locked tomes had no such resistance as this, and it bore no lock. It seemed he had no choice but to venture to the mountain, to risk who knows what horrid end or whatever else his Master had feared and felt remorse over.

The next morning, Justin set out for the mountain, his heavy winter clothes bundled atop his haversack, walking staff in hand, and the book stuffed in his shirt for safekeeping. He left early, just before the sun rose, and left a sign on the door announcing that he was out gathering plants and herbs. Justin didn't enjoy the lie, however necessary it felt, as he did not even understand why he had to visit the Peak to read this tome. But his Master thought it essential, and so he would do so.

It took most of the morning to reach the foot of the Peak, and only at its base did he dare to break his fast. Cold biscuits, blackberry jam, butter and water were his chosen foods for the day, and quickly, he ate in the mountain's shadow. Afterwards, he began the long climb up the mountain, finding no particular path ahead save whatever seemed the quickest way forward and up. The sun was highest in the sky when the air turned bitter cold as Justin escaped the cover of the trees. He donned his heavy clothes as he ate again before pressing on. As he neared the shale slopes of the mountain, he heard the strangest sound. Something like the cry of a hawk or falcon, but deep enough to rattle the stones on the mountainside. As he looked to the sky, he saw the shape of a bird falling towards him, yet it was the largest he'd ever seen, a monstrous hawk clearly aiming for him. He thought of running, but knew it was too far to reach the safety of the trees. He resolved to die fighting, raising his staff as he'd seen knights raise their swords at the melee of tourneys. As the hawk came near, he swung, his staff breaking against the enormous beast as it circled in the sky and slowed itself. And then it spoke.

"You bear the book. Another come to learn, come to die in time, for knowledge. How many will you send to this death? Will you condemn another, as Gwyn did you? Will you make that death worthy?"