The soles of his leather boots did little to protect him from the sharp limestone littering the path. He marched through the pain into the unknown, after the first few days he stopped constantly looking over his shoulder. He lit a fire even after the first week on the path east. Luckily his time spent with the Rangers of Krasi as a small child prepared him well. The Krasi were a nomadic people that scouted the large swathes of land in between the major cities. Most considered the out lands uninhabitable, but the Krasi were born and broke in its harsh unforgiving environs. It ranged from scorched dune filled deserts, to swampy marshes and quick sand to dry frozen barren wasteland going from north to south. He was moving North and he woudl be moving north for the next three months. He may be a little confused about things but one thing he discerned from the duel he witnessed was that the pinnacle is real and there’s a school there.
The twin suns sat low in the horizon, Listia putting her little sister to bed casting long shadows across the world. The boy’s stomach growled, it was time to eat, he spent a majority of his time fasting like the Krasi did. A trance liek state could be achieved allowing you to rest but continue moving. The Krasi relied on it to cross barren wastelands of nothing, and to survive in the extreme winter. He pulled the long assassins dagger out of his belt, its blade was cast in a wave, each peak and trough sharpened to an edge that would slice skin like a peach. He could see his reflection in the blade, he crouched low and moved off into the wild grasses on the mountainside. He had seen small lizards and some wild birds, that should suffice. He breathed with the wind and moved through the grass foraging like the Krasi had taught him.
For weeks he walked until the grass died out and the mountainous scenery was swallowed up by the cold northern wastes. He had prepared well, covered head to toe in furs he looked three times his size as he kept pushing north. The village that was chasing him had long since given up, no citizen would journey this far into the out lands, this was the land of his people, the Krasi. Without thinking he trudged north. After another two weeks of walking he sat hunched inside his mobile tent of furs with his hands over a small ember. He would die if the pinnacle was a lie, it was getting darker as he migrated north. The flora and fauna of the north while seldom were extremely dangerous. Huge mammoths with two heads full of gnashing teeth charged across the plains oblivious to the cold, the devoured everything in their paths, Large underground plants rigged swathes of land to collapse cathcing its prey in a pit and slowly growing around it to absorb its nutrients. After a total of two and a half months trudging north, the tallest mountain stood before him. He pushed towards it until a small castle took shape, he powered on but his food was gone and his energy was spent, he fell to the ground and crawled the castle now enormous on the horizon blinked out of focus as he lost consciousness.