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https://youtu.be/Ib-J5WEcINc

At the tail end of each year, a lone curio makes the journey up Dead Mountain. It takes one month to safely ascend and another to safely return. He only spends a single night at its frozen peak- standing at the height of the known world during the peak of the Starseer celebrations. A new blade is added to a boulder's leveled surface, slotted into an intricate geometric inlay alongside its previously offered brothers.

He sheds his coats for a few moments, as long as he can stand the oppressive deadly cold penetrating to his bones, as he looks up to the night sky. His eyes search the stars of their ancient origin, and he listens for their words. Someday, he will have the proper body to stay here for the time required. Someday, he will have the proper tool to translate what they say, and to speak in turn should it be allowed. Someday, he will have the proper knowledge to understand their intent and the full nature of his purpose.

This year, he cannot go. He sends his regards to the stars, though they surely know why he cannot visit them. This year, there is a different sort of task that must be done.

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