Two hours of climbing down stone stairs can have a great impact on your muscles and bones but I would be damned if I admit as much to the insufferable chit, who is now making a spectacle of herself.

“God, what is it with your homeland and all these motherfucking stairs! I feel like we’ve been descending these stairs for an eternity now and still no closer to our destination! Are we in some sort of purgatory because that is what it is starting to feel like.”

Funny. I had that very thought a few hours ago.

“Can you please reduce the incessant chatter?"

“You insisted we take these stairs!” And to really punctuate that statement, she proceeds to unbutton her shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” She smarts back at me without turning or pausing from her task at hand.”

“I know what it looks like, girl! Why is the more appropriate question.”

“It’s muthafuckin’ haaawt and I can’t stand it!”

“Why is it you get more brazen and vulgar the more exhausted you become?”

“Because I don’t give a fuuuck.”

“Will you please have some decorum.”

“Nooooope! Decorum will return as soon as I have a stiff cold drink in hand and get some shade. You can deal with me until then because this whole adventure was your idea!” She turns and sharply points to me accusingly, a hand on her hip.

“How is this my idea?” I ground out through the teeth.

“You suggested it, therefore it is your idea.”

“You’re unreasonable, you know that?" I glare at her for such an immature comment.

“Oh, nononono! You are the native from these parts and you could have found a different route or even a different destination. There had to have been a million other directions we could have gone, but you chose this one!”

“I am just as lost as you are at the moment! My information comes to me unbidden, without context, and without my say-so! I am navigating just as blindly as you are and just in case you have forgotten, I have a touch of a memory issue, so do us both a favor and try not to pin everything on me!”

“Lucy, what's that?" Ms. Atoa suddenly grabs my shoulder and halts me.

"I don’t know, girl. I can’t answer everything!”

“No, down there! Look! What is that on the stairs?” She yells, apparently exasperated at me and points angrily down a way at a spot on the steps.

“I….do not know.” I squint down at the spot and realize that whatever it is, it’s coming towards us. “My word. Is that someone….climbing up these retched stairs?”

“Jeez, poor soul. We most definitely are in purgatory because who would willingly come up these?”

After watching the black speck make its way up a few more steps, we continue downward. Twenty minutes pass and we can finally make out the figure in a thin dark brown robe making steady progress up the steps.

“Some decency please.” I hiss at the girl. “You don’t need to scare that poor soul on top of the torment of climbing these foresaken stairs.

“Fine, dad!” She snidely remarks as she slips her arms back into the sleeves and button her way up the shirt.

We are now in plain view of the oncoming climber. I get a good look at the stranger’s face and see that they are very young despite their height. I was going to extend a greeting to the young man once he is upon us but the girl beats me to it.

“Hey! What are you doing? You’re barely halfway up the stairs and there is still a loooong way to go. Were you punished or something to be put up to this?" She shouts at the poor sod.

“Huh?” He looks up and sees us finally. His focus is on the talisman in his hands. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realize anyone still uses this route to get into the valley. I’m actually here to earn some merit for my village not too far from the base of these stairs.”

“Merit?” Ms. Atoa asks, and quite frankly, I do not recall this practice so I’m just as curious as she is about the rural tradition. “What's it for?”

“Our village is isolated in the middle of the forest so it’s hard for everyone to travel to or from, expand their  business or even make new friends or love. Every year, someone is chosen to climb to the top of the Central Range and to the next peak over to make an offering at the shrine and temple that joins this region with our neighbors, Tomako. After that, I have a choice if I want to continue my journey down the other valley or return back home.

I would use the transit at Central Station and never look back. Merit be damned.

Of course, I do not voice as much but I cannot help but wonder how backwater destinations such as these still exist. We shall just attribute it to fear and isolation.

“Wow, that’s such a great honor! I’m Amber, by the way. How were you chosen?”

“I’m Zori. I was chosen by the lucky medallion, I guess.”

Oh, please.

“But it’s was dumb luck, you could say. There is a lottery that everyone pulls from and if you happen to get the medallion, the lucky person can make a wish as well as bring the wishes of others.”

“What do you intend to wish for?” The girl takes the bait.

“Well, I guess I fulfilled my wish.”

Oh, this is rich!

“Oh…?” She coyly responds to his admission, flashing a matching smile. “How so?”

“I wished to make a few new acquaintances if it isn’t too much and possibly meet a girl.”

My god, she’s actually giggling at him!

“The sun will be setting shortly,” I state blandly and peer down my nose at the boy. “We really ought to continue our journey.”

“Oh! Are you on a pilgrimage, as well?” The boy seems to have perked up considerably. Probably the prospect of other pilgrims fancying to meet in hopes of camaraderie or even love is too much for his young mind to handle.

“No.”

"...Not quite,” Ms. Atoa interjects and gives me a look for my curt answer. Apparently, my explanation was not sufficient. “We are making our way to the capital, I'yeriav. I guess you can call it a pilgrimage, too.”

“Oh, that is far away.” The boy looks like he is thinking a bit too hard but then drifts over to the mountain wall and then continues to look pensive about something.”

“We do need to-” I try to cut him short before he holds up a hand and then interrupts me.

“No, wait!” The boy puts a hand onto the mountain wall beside us we wait expectantly. There is a rumble in the mountain like a slight earth tremor but it was over as quick as it started. He furrows his brows deeper and then a look of complete satisfaction brightens his expression. “Done.”

“What is?” I question a bit tersely.

“Your exit.” the boy explains, “I found a route within the mountain. Just go down a few rai and you’ll see a crack in the mountain wall. You can’t miss it and it’ll just look like it’s a cave but it’ll take you down to the base of the mountain and to my village in no time.”

“What? Really?!” Amber squeals in glee and runs up to the boy and gives him a hug. Now I cannot resist rolling my eyes as I see a blush bloom on the boy’s cheeks.

“Yeah, just walk into the cave and at the end, a path will lead you to my village a lot faster than this old route.”

“Huh. Then why are you not taking that route yourself?”

“It’s a tradition to take the old stairs. The caverns in the cave functions as an escape route that twists and turns into dead ends if you don’t have a key, but I guarantee, this is a direct route to my home that locals use to save time without the deadly traps.

“Well, that inspires a lot of confidence in your path.”

“Don’t mind, Lucy. He’s a bit skeptical about anything that seems too easy or different. I trust you and we’d be delighted to take the shorter route.”

“You won’t regret it. You can also go to the Inn once you get there and get a room at our place. My family has owned the establishment since people settled in Num Beria and they’d be happy to host travelers.”

“That sounds great, Zori.” Excitement is evident in her voice at the prospect of being done with these infernal steps. “Thank you so much for the invite. We’ll definitely take you up on your offer.”

“It should be no problem for you and your father to have your own rooms.” the boy Zori offers

Ms. Atoa doesn't just laugh at the comment, but loudly guffaws that I’m mistaken for the chit’s father. As if I could raise someone so vulgar and bereft of proper etiquette; she doesn’t even look a thing like me. From her tanned olive complexion to dark eyes and hair, we are almost complete opposites of one another!

“Well, safe journey and I hope your village receives all the good tidings they hope to gain for the year.” Ms. Atoa says in farewell.

“And to you as well.” The boy jovially waves at us. I nod my acknowledgement to him and turn back to our journey at hand. Yes, I am a bit salty about the boy’s assumptions but I want to end this hectic descent quickly. When I see the fissure in the wall the boy mentions, I turn sharply into it not bothering to worry about wild creatures or sharp falls.

“What’s got you in a tizzy all of a sudden” The girl’s annoying comments are not alleviating my mood one bit. 

We walk further into the covered cave and once we are fully immersed in darkness, we are presented with a spectacle not unlike looking at the stars on a clear night's sky. 

“Wooow.” That seems to be her favorite catchphrase of wonder. “They’re like glowing rocks.”

What Ms. Atoa is referring to is the tiny glowing creatures that dot the ceiling of the cave. Their luminescence is so bright, it does seem like some mystical glowing rocks, but I do recall seeing these before.

“They’re glow worms. They create bioluminescence to attract prey and catch them in their silk.”

Ms. Atoa continues to walk towards the edge of the cavern when all of a sudden, I hear a high pitch scream echo off the damp walls, fall downwards, and fade. I run to the point where she disappears and see a sharp slope down into the mountain’s depth.

Irah, help me as I jump down the slick surface after her without a second thought.

The narrow tunnel utilizes wide switchbacks down and around the contours within the mountain, dropping steeply. The dips on this rock made slide startle and shock me faster than my stomach can keep up. I can still hear Ms. Atoa’s shrieks as I follow in her wake. After a few seconds of wild maneuvering on the extremely slick rock surface, my body actually acclimates to the adrenaline rush and I can even hear the girl laughing as the shock seems to have worn off. After what seems like an eternity of a seemingly endless slope, a tiny aperture of light quickly opens into a large mouth that swallows us whole only to unceremoniously dump us in an area surrounded by dense, pillowy plains.

Unfortunately, I land on top of the girl, who, is not pillowy by any means and her sharp elbow happens to hit me right on my sternum as I land. With the wind knocked out of me, I can hardly register her presences beneath me as the pain is so acute and staggering. I’m gasping for air while my lungs try to regain its ability to contract and expand beyond the pain. Lucky for me, Ms. Atoa has no problem rolling me over after a few unsuccessful attempts on my part. At least I am allowed the dignity of recovering from my semi-fetal position on my own but welcome the assistance all the same. The new position on my back allows for my lungs to function as it is supposed to in the form of sharp gasps until I can finally fill my lungs completely.

“Well, wasn’t that exciting!” Ms. Atoa’s enthusiasm eerily mimics that of her own aunt’s and I can not help cringe at the family resemblance. I slowly get up as the acute pain dulls but I can’t help but think about the carefree village adolescent's deceivingly perilous shortcut. Now that I look back on our journey down the mountain, that route does seem like a secret path to and from the valley. I suddenly remember how naturescape of these lands are troublesome at best, molded by the Gods themselves according to old tales of yore. That path does seem to have more of man’s flair and influence than nature’s usual layout of least resistance in the slope's formation. If it is indeed, man’s doing, I curse the person who so illly devised such a winding slope and cannot seem to keep my comments to myself in light of recent events.

“Stupid folly from yore carrying antiquated traditions regarding bad spirits and evil luck from one’s enemy resulting in overly complex evasion tunnels such as those.” I grumble, trying to slowly get up without aggravating my injuries and bruised ego from the fall. “There is a reason traditions become obsolete.”

I would say the girl is indubitably leaving a negative impact on my actions and speech.

“What?” the girl distractedly asks as she’s picking off blades of grass and other organic matter off of her person, obviously not caring for what I have to say on the matter. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“Never you mind. Let us make our way to the village as the boy said.”

We walk away from the field and walk along the cliffside to see a sign ahead directing us towards the village, Lizitsa. After half an hour of walking through the heart of the narrow valley, the tree coverage becomes noticeably denser and larger. One would guess that the trees themselves have seen many millennia, keeping watch over these lands. It isn’t until I hear a gasp at my side, do I notice the buildings nestle within and under the wide breadth and expanse of their branches and there are dozens of them around us. The branches of these massive trees form a dense roof that umbrellas or enshrouds the whole building as though the structures itself are the vast trunks and protect their clay based bodies as though it is their own. The buildings within the trees do not vary much in design except in length or width, with conical, rectangular, and cylindrical shapes. However, most of the individuality comes from the overhanging tree around it. The umbrella or weeping willow growth from the overhanging trees varied in leaf shapes, sizes, and colors; no one tree is like the other. Some trees were mainly dense leaves like that of a maple, while others were dull in shape or size but the flowers that bloom between added variety and color.

The girl walks to the nearest tree stronghold and marvels at the overhanging tree with thick peduncle branches and twigs twining thickly towards the ground. Its leaves were waxy and highlighted the bright orange flowers the size of my hand all the way down its thick trunk. 

This tree just so happens to be the building of the very inn the boy had mentioned, a sign denoting as much above the threshold of the large square door. Ms. Atoa reaches for the handle and with the barest of touch, she is able to open the ornate doors wide, revealing a quaint tavern on the bottom floor. From the look inside the inn compared to the looming tree around it, you wouldn’t think that a tree is the armour of this structure. A look up inside the structure of the inn, you can follow the line of the stairs from this ground up to the various levels and floors. 

This inn is a sight to behold just a majestic if not grander than the caverns were visited on our last trip. I am rather impressed to say the least.