It was a brilliant sight to witness.
It appeared to be a reflection of the forest behind him; a welcoming expanse of evergreen life and invigorating colors.
He slid into his favorite pair of gloves and stood back to behold the massive cliffside.
His hand paralleled his brow as he strained against the brightness of the midday sun.
A small tree resided on an overhang about half the distance to the top, the sight of which set in motion a turbulent mixture of fear and vivacity.
He filled his lungs with crisp, mountain air, then escaped to his mind's eye.
A man appeared before him; broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, and piercing gray-blue eyes. Accompanied by a soft nod, the man's lips curled slightly on one side; a gesture of encouragement.
A confidence embraced him. He reopened his eyes and planted his fist firmly against his chest.
He checked the straps of his pack to be sure it was fastened tightly. Finding it secure, he eased towards the cliffside and began climbing.
What he knew: his mind was built for the ascent.
What he hoped: his mind was built for the voyage.
He reached his destination with a nonchalance earned through a life of child's play and mountaintop dwelling.
His heart raced.
The tiny overhang was little more than enough space for the single wayside pine tree; he would have to move quickly.
As his back met with the moss-laden rock face, he brought his leather pack around to his front and reached inside, pulling out the translucent, variegated prism his late father had given him.
He looked outward, squinting his eyes at the cascading mountains that lined the horizon beyond the valley. He was a great distance from them, but they looked to be perfectly close through the hole that had been cut through the pine.
Without hesitation, he slid the prism inside the tree. No sooner than he had set it into place, there resounded a noise much like the heavy latch of an iron chest.
The mountain groaned; a sudden wind tested the roots of the vegetation on the cliffside; the sun blinked, sending an incredible flash of white-hot light across the sky.
He shut his eyes tightly and covered his head, bracing himself for whatever would follow the light.
He waited and waited, but to his bewilderment, nothing came. He lifted his head hesitantly, expectant to see nothing but the remnants of a world he once knew.
His eyes widened when he saw how wrong he had been; everything was just as it was, though far more beautiful in every imaginable way.
The colors of the forest below were of shades he couldn't compare to any he had ever seen. The forest seemed to pulsate, as if it had found something more to life than simply abounding in it. An ethereal, fluid-like hum enveloped him, calming his mind with every passing moment.
A figure appeared at the tree line; the soft murmur of the forest continued.
A smile became of the man's face.
n. g. madison
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