Chapter Text
For a creature born in the deepest, darkest trenches of the Coral Sea, Jade Leech spent a lot of time practically touching the sky. The mountain wind cut through the valleys with a low howl, tasting faintly of ozone as it forced itself through his lungs, whooshing past his ears. Nearly an hour had passed, the hollow whistling of sharp winds sounding against sun-bleached rocks; 2,500 meters above the sea level, the late-Autumn trees slowly began sinking below the clouds as Jade continued his ascent. He adjusted the straps of his hiking pack, the heavy canvas groaning against his shoulders, and stepped carefully over a patch of loose shale. Compared to the deep pressures underwater, the jagged slopes of Night Raven College’s surrounding mountains felt weightless.
Fixed above him in the sky of saturated blues was the sun, a white-hot coin at this height; below, gravel crumbled underfoot, small bits of the rock disappearing into the thick clouds that Jade left behind with each step. That familiar, chalky taste of thirst stopped him in his tracks, the same sensation that he had neglected long ago resurfacing. He looked above, at the ground left to cover, and then back at the fungi already foraged, none of which were quite what he was looking for. A specific type of alpine lichen that only thrived on the northern, sun-shadowed faces of the highest crags—Jade found a sturdy rock to rest on as he searched for it.
He unclipped his oversized bag, closing his eyes in a half-giggle as he examined the contents. His dry mouth had two options—a rich, thick mushroom stew made from meticulously picked fungi, or hand-harvested botanicals, crushed to make a deep, bittersweet herbal tea. Jade had already decided upon stopping, as brewing tea on a compact stove was a reward he’d left for the perfect mountainside view. Lid screwed on tightly, the eel gave it two twists before it suddenly came loose, the steam curling from under the lid and blossoming as he removed it. Lifting it felt like a reminder of his mountainous joys. The velvety broth, an auburn colour similar to falling leaves, was a stark contrast to the deep, vibrant blue sky that he’d finally stopped to admire. A woody, earthy scent floated from the thermos, seemingly flooding the entire mountain at this altitude. After mixing it, Jade took his first spoonful, and almost melted into the rocks. Coating the throat and sticking to the ribs, the hearty stew quenched any sign of thirst, each stir quietly bubbling with flavour. Everything about the stew—the plump curves of wild mushrooms, the glint of golden fat droplets shimmering on the surface—Jade had trouble understanding how his Octavinelle peers could possibly get tired of the aroma: savoury, umami, like the damp forests floors and hours of simmering with the trek in mind.
Relishing in the stew for just two minutes, the large thermos was suddenly empty. Jade’s spoon scraped the bottom, the metallic sound of a completed meal. He looked left, then right, then remembered that no NRC student would be up in the mountains, bringing the thermos to his lips and drinking in the last of his creation. Utensils were wiped down and packed into a specialized box, Jade screwing the lid back onto the insulated jar as he returned them all to his hiking pack. It was a meal that he wouldn’t forget, just as he wouldn’t forget that same one he’d had three days prior.
Just as he’d adjusted the large canvas onto his back and returned to his climb, a pronounced shadow emerged from behind the peak, obscuring the sun for just a moment before swooping low, joining what seemed to be a growing crowd of mountain mice. Marmots, notoriously fearful creatures, scurried up dusty rock in a similar direction. Jade had already finished his meal, so he could only think of one thing that could be attracting these creatures. Perhaps, it was their common target; perhaps, Jade had succeeded in his search after an hour of nothing but bliss above the vapours. He dug his heel into a divot and took off from his spot on the warm stone, approaching with less sound than he made whilst eating, careful not to scare off his new “guides”.
Jade’s heterochromic eyes narrowed, scanning for a patch of untouched, unique lichen growth. Another dark figure swooped above, this time slightly higher. A large area of this new species of mushroom—the idea dizzied Jade. Right ahead, the trail flattened out into a pale, hidden rocky alcove—a feeding retreat, for all that were hungry and all that were curious. And Jade was infinitely curious.
Turning the corner, the voice of the wind was instantly silenced, the hollow whispers of the gale replaced by soft breathing.
The sight before him was pure, unadulterated fantasy.