It's worth mentioning that I wrote the first chapter about three years ago, and I've only recently decided to continue this idea. My writing style has changed drastically since then. It gets better after this, I promise.

Oh, and don't forget to tell me what you think once you've read it! If something seems shitey, please don't hesitate to tell me! I'd really benefit from your input!

~+~

"Jethro, are you mad?! You'll never make it out of here alive, much less up the cliffs! Some men just weren't meant to roam the earth, especially not in such a... fragile time as this. When are you going to accept this? This isn't your calling, you don't belong out there!"

"Well, thanks for the inspiration, it'll give me hope as I lie alone along the sides of-"

"I'm not going to bullshit you, Jethro! I'm not here to deliver inspiring speeches, I'm here to keep you alive! Why can't you ever seem to recognize this? Why do you always have to go and find out the hard way?"

"Because..."

"Because what? Because you're a masochistic thrill-seeker who isn't content to live out their lives working a normal job like the rest of the sane world? Because you're trying to spite me? Because-"

"Because I need to know! I need to know what's on the other side! It's been plaguing me for as long as I can remember. It didn't help that you people constantly romanticized it and added all this mystery behind that huge-ass slab of stone! I can't live out my days knowing that there's something on the other side, and that I'll eventually die, never even learning if there's something else out there, something that could spare us from the fate of-"

"Oh, here you go on again talking about your silly little premonition, and your end of times speeches. Get over it, there are more important things to deal with right now."

"This is why I don't like talking to you, Tethys. Hell, I don't even know why I bothered telling you I'm leaving. I just knew you were going to go on about how I'm psychotic for trying to do something that's important to me for once. Why can't you be like the other people here, who truly understand my situation, and accept what I simply must do!" Jethro was nearly shouting this point, though his voice was shaky, and filled with hesitation.

"Because, I actually care what becomes of you. The others don't care what happens to you. In fact, your death means an extra ration of water for one of them! They're probably only 'helping' you so they can pick the remnants from your sunbleached skeleton when you end up falling from the top of the crags."

Jethro didn't know what to say at this point, and paused in the doorway with his hands resting on the edges of the doorframe, nervously digging his nails into the faded white paint.

A solemn silence filled the room with neither party wanting to go next. Tethys glared at Jethro with a genuine look of concern, while his eyes slowly scanned around the room, attempting to avoid her prying gaze. Finally, Jethro spoke up, albeit in a meek tone.

"So are we done here? Can I go?"

"You know it doesn't matter what I say. You're going to go ahead and do it anyway, just like always."

Jethro opened his mouth to speak, but for the first time in his life, words failed him. He nodded, and with his eyes low to the ground, turned around, and began walking out of cabin, closing the door behind him.

"And Jethro?" Tethys said, right as he was about to exit the house.

"Please... Oh, hell. You know what I'm going to say."

"Don't get hurt?" he said in an mocking innocent tone.

"Oh please, we both know this is going to hurt like hell. And as much as I want you to be safe, safety isn't really an option anymore, at least not if you're planning on climbing that cliff. Here, I'll say this in a way you can understand it, don't be stupid. If there is anyone still alive up there, don't trust them, don't leave things behind because it's 'too heavy', and most importantly..."

There was a slight pause.

"Most importantly?" inquired Jethro, whose grip grew tighter on the doorframe with every moment they remained talking."

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm sure you'll figure it out halfway up." she said with a smile, though her mouth quivered, and now it was her who couldn't look the young man in the eyes.

Jethro nodded, and waited for any further additions to the conversation, but Tethys seemed to be done. She has since walked away, presumably to hide in her room, and stare at the ceiling until the world around her made sense. Jethro sighed, and released his death-grip from the doorframe, and walked away from the house, following the same pattern he had followed for the past eighteen years or so of his life. Shut the door, walk two steps back, turn, jump down the patio steps, though, a little half-heartedly this time, and make his way away the house, except this time, he didn't plan to return, at least not in one piece. He had some plan to stick the directions to his little village incase he was murdered, so they knew where to send his head, but he found the idea slightly sentimental, and very impractical, therefore not worth his time. As he walked away from his home, he stuck his hand in his pocket, feeling around for a crumpled note. His heart sank into his stomach, and he failed to find the aforementioned piece of paper. He stopped everything to look for it in a frantic search. "Right pocket? No, just checked there, and it's not in the lining. Left pocket? No, still not there. Jacket pocket? No, that got torn out nine months back. Dammit! This shouldn't have to be this hard!" He whispered to himself as he made an absolute mess of his clothing. A minute went by, and he still couldn't locate the page to save his life. He was now double- no- triple checking his pockets to find a simple sheet of paper. He was near a breakdown now. He went through that stupid speech to his aunt, and he was not under any circumstance, going to walk back in there claiming that he was "just kidding". he pressed his hands to his face as his continued to panic. "Oh goddamnit, what did I do?! How am I supposed to figure out where she plan-" when suddenly, mid sentence, he felt a familiar piece of parchment against his cheek. when he drew his hands back from his face, he noticed that he had been gripping the note in his left hand the entire time.

Jethro sighed in relief. With that minor crisis averted, he could get back to business, that is, if business entails leaving home and going on a suicidal exodus. Now with what felt like all the time in the universe, he unfolded the note, and smoothed out the creases that his careless grip folded into the paper. He read the note quietly to himself one last time to make sure that nothing had changed, that he really was going to do it, after all these years. He walked through the town, whispering the words as he walked those dusty roads one last time. "Jethro, I'll make it short" he recited, as he walked through ruined town pavilion, his words in sync with his footsteps against the mismatched cobble "I know about your obsession with the stone curtain." he muttered, with his voice almost silenced by the creaking of the old iron gate at edge of the town commons. "And while I understand the town's fear of the unknown" he whispered, as the commoners and peasants sit on their porches and eye the boy, wondering if he had gone mad as he walked down the path of no return. "I know that something must be done, someone must pierce the veil." he was only mouthing the words now, as he reached the town palisade, riddled with mismatched spikes of wood, stone and iron. "Wait until the night after the first moon upon receiving this letter, and prepare accordingly, for we will meet beneath the pines. However, know that I will not wait for you, and in the event that you fail to arrive, I will leave without you, and figure this out on my own." he spoke, with only the howling winds to hear his plight, as he made his way from the ramshackle shanty that he called his home. "Yvonne." he finished, as looked up from the crumpled page to see the amber sun, being eaten alive by the blackened tips of the pines.