"Doubtful." Still, Sky lets himself be coaxed up the steps. The first few are shallow, a little ledge through the first red gate. The inscription above his head is written in characters a little too old for him to recognize as they cross the threshold, dim golds and blues in the red paint: he thinks there's a 'door' somewhere in there, though. "I haven't seen her since that time in the cave."
"That's because you never came to her home; of course she couldn't come see you, she probably never has time to leave." Sky doesn't see why not, given she's an immortal celestial being and probably doesn't have to worry about things like a full-time job or the logistics of airfare. In the four years since he's been really, actually human, he and Mabel have done plenty of traveling outside of Idle, but some subterranean relic of his brain still hates hurtling through the air in a metal shell to the tune of thousands of miles an hour and the fact that that part of his brain is even there makes him simultaneously annoyed and depressed. "I hope she likes me—"
"—she doesn't even like me, Mabel."
Mabel continues on as if he hasn't said anything. They've had this talk a few times before; Mabel thinks Guanyin let him find his way back to her heart again because she has a soft spot for him, while Sky knows all too well that, whatever feeling it is that drives a god to give grace to a lesser being, it isn't affection. "Do you think the casserole is too much? It's the best thing I make, but it was pretty hard to get the right kind of cheese here—I just want to make the right impression—"
"There's a casserole in there?!" Sky cranes his neck to look at the backpack behind him, spinning in circles a few times. An old auntie in a loose white shirt and bare feet pauses in her slow trek to give him a bewildered look. "Our apartment doesn't even have an oven!"
"Well, you have to bring your in-laws something, you know? She didn't even come to the wedding, so I've got my work cut out for me." Mabel stills him with a single hand, pausing to pat worriedly at a backpack-covered lump that is...definitely probably a casserole. His wife is something else. She glances up at him worriedly, suddenly struck by a thought. "You don't think she's lactose intolerant, do you?"
"Mabel, she's an Asian celestial of untold power and divine immortality." Asian, of course, being the operative word. "Of course she's lactose intolerant. C'mon, let's go climb this mountain."
---
Mabel, who's had centuries to see every marvelous thing in the world and not care about any of it, finds private satisfaction in taking interest in as many details and aspects of their trips as she can now that she has the heart to enjoy it. It's from her and her boundless excitement and enthusiasm that Sky learns so much about the places they go, including that there are four ways up the slope of Tai Shan. Two involve other modes of transportation—the cable car they'll take back down, a road for a bus. One is an unpaved hiking trail, which Sky hasn't hiked quite enough of the crags in dusty Arizona to feel comfortable with. This—theirs—is the 6,660 remarkably well-maintained steps of a granite staircase carved into the sheer wilderness of the mountain, crowned by the foliage and imposing walls that overlook a horizon line of dark peaks and low clouds so sprawling even the dome of the sky cannot give it bound. Mabel notes aloud through deep, even breaths as they climb flight after flight of winding stairs, awash in the rhythm of insects and the chattering flow of human bustle that stumbles up this mountain, that they are following in the footsteps of human emperors.
It's nice, being here. Idle is good, but it is ultimately a town of monsters. In that context, it's perhaps better that Sky is not-quite a person, a used-to-be; he belongs better as a result, understands his neighbors and is better equipped to handle his students. It is his truth at the end of the day, something he can't separate from himself even if he wants to, and he's grateful to have a place that understands what that part of him means. More importantly, it's Mabel's home, where Mabel's heart has always been even when she left it behind; her heart belongs there, and Sky belongs wherever hers is. But it's good, sometimes, to leave—to be a human, instead of a human with history.
The Ascent: Sky Wong
Start from the beginning
