A lone cherry blossom floated on the light breeze, swaying back and forth on its journey to the pond below. “Sakura,” whispered a bookish gentleman, seated upon the floor of a square room, facing the tranquil garden.

“What was that?” asked his partner, who was busy deciphering a menu.

“Nothing.”

“I can't decide what I want to eat, if any of it. It's all so foreign.”

“I believe that's the point. We are in a foreign land Bob.”

“I thought the point was to put this mountain climbing gear to use, Seamus.”

The door to their room slid open with a soft hissing sound; a young woman was kneeling at the door. “You mustn't! Don't go near the mountain; it is haunted. Any who go near it will die.”

Bob chuckled, “We aren't here for the mountain, miss. We're here for the plateaus. Seems the mountain is quite well known but little is ever said about the plateaus, and we'd like to take a look at them.”

“The plateaus?”

“Yes,” Seamus continued. “Our college gave us leave to make an investigation. We feel there is some secret locked within the plateaus, some reason for their uniformity.”

The waitress relaxed a little then took their order and left. Seamus returned to admiring the manicured garden while Bob flipped through a guidebook. “They sure are touchy about their mountain. What do they call it again? I can't seem to find it in here.”

“Ysivnia.”

“Yeah, that's it. Funny name.”

“It means --”

“Torch of Death. You're not the only one with linguistic skills.”

“Beacon, not Torch. Seems there quite a few legends surrounding it, and none of them good,” Seamus fell silent, suddenly deep in thought.

“What?”

“Remember that rather obsequious fellow that accosted us when we arrived?”

“The one who wouldn't shut up? Kept offering us advice, wanting to carry our packs, wanted to hire himself out as our guide, even offered to wash our feet of all things. He was sure intent upon our gear though, kept pointing at our ropes and going on and on.”

“He was warning us about the mountain.”

“Yeah, what was he saying?”

“He was telling me of a young boy, Joichi I think he said his name was. Seems this boy was too curious for his own good. He was the first who decided to climb the mountain. He was only eight, and set out with some rope and began to climb up it. There was a violent shaking of the earth and the boy was hurtled to the ground.”

“Volcanism I would expect.”

“It would seem the case, except for the mark on the boy's right cheek.”

“A mark?”

“A blue mark, and from the description I would say it was quite a complex design. Three years later the boy suddenly died. One minute he was fine, and the next he collapsed, dead.”

“Fascinating myth.”

Seamus grinned, “You think so?”

Their food arrived, and between Bob's cautious picking at his food, and Seamus's contemplative mood they did not finish their lunch until well past midday. With no further reasons to delay they gathered their gear and walked to the edge of the town and began their ascent up one of the plateaus.

The climb was as slow as their meal. Neither of them were highly skilled in mountain climbing, but what skill they possessed was enough, if they were cautious and patient. Midway up the plateau the sun began to sink behind the range; they had planned on making camp on the plateau and felt no pressure to go any faster.

By the time they reached the top they had about two hours of daylight remaining. Bob quickly surveyed the ground looking for a good place to make camp while Seamus began circumnavigating the massive slab of stone, constantly jotting notes. Part way through his trek he cried out in alarm, “Bob! Come here, quick, before the light fades.”

Bob sprinted to the other end of the plateau where Seamus was standing scanning the ground. “What?” he panted.

“Look at the grooves in the ground. Do they look a bit too regular to you?”

Bob looked, squinted, then looked up and down the plateau. “Maybe. It's hard to tell in this light.”

“Quickly, you take that half and I'll take this half. Follow any grooves that look unnatural and sketch them out. Quickly, before the light fades.”

Bob knew better than to argue with Seamus when that gleam possessed his eyes. He sighed, and walking back the way he came he began making sketches. As the last rays of light began to slither away they met in the center of the plateau. Bob passed Seamus his crude sketch. Seamus looked at both of them, then placing them next to each other gasped.

“Bob!”

“What?”

“This sketch. This looks like the description of the mark that was on Joichi's cheek.”