The biting, thin air atop Mount Meru's peak sliced with an icy, unforgiving sharpness.
It carried the scent of granite and eternal frost, a natural barrier against the frailties of the world below.
Far beneath, the valleys and plains were a diminishing mosaic of deep emerald greens and rich, earthy browns, soon to be lost entirely beneath the blinding, perennial snow that crowned the mountain.
The only witnesses to the gruelling, near-impossible ascent of a lone human figure were the massive, turbulent clouds above, which churned like a celestial ocean.
This figure, impossibly frail and drawn from some internal affliction, was near the absolute limit of his endurance.
He fought for every upward step, his muscles screaming in protest on the treacherous, ice-caked path.
His breaths were ragged, thin gasps that smoked instantly in the frigid atmosphere, yet his eyes, fixed not on the ground but on a dark, yawning crevice in the sheer, black rock face, held a fierce, unyielding light.
This sinister cave, a black maw on the white face of the mountain, was his final, desperate destination.
As the weary climber, his body shaking uncontrollably with exhaustion and cold, finally dragged himself past the jagged, ice-covered lip of the cave entrance, the ethereal audience stirred.
A cloudy, vaguely humanoid figure, which had been observing the struggle from the highest crag of the mountain peak, allowed its massive form to stretch, and a cruel, anticipatory grin split its featureless face.
"Here comes my Millionth soul," a voice, that was less sound and more a deep pressure in the air, declared.
The massive, billowing clouds in the sky began a rapid, silent convergence, their form solidifying and condensing with impossible speed.
The celestial mass transformed into a creature of sleek, powerful, fluffy white: a magnificent cat formed entirely of dense, swirling clouds.
It landed with the silent grace of falling velvet on a nearby, frost-sheathed boulder, its gaze radiating an ancient, bored amusement.
The fragile-looking young man, pale and drawn with sickness, was so startled by the sudden, impossible manifestation that he stumbled backwards on the slick stone, collapsing heavily and painfully onto the hard, frozen ground.
A sound, sharp and grating like stones rubbing together beneath a glacier, split the silence as the cloud-cat let out a loud, mocking laugh that echoed unnervingly off the cold, hollow mountain walls.
"Oh, poor, frail human," the cat sneered, its eyes two gleaming, impossibly deep sky blue points twinkling with malicious mischief.
"Did you truly endure this agonising climb to my desolate abode simply to die?
You look half-dead already," it chuckled, the sound a deep, resonant, rumbling vibration in its cloud-stuff chest, a sound that seemed to shake the very rock they stood on.
Displaying a surprising, almost supernatural resilience, the young man immediately pushed himself up, brushing the dust and grit from his threadbare, travel-stained clothes.
His composure, momentarily lost, returned instantly, the fierce light reigniting in his eyes.
"My name is Kalven," he introduced himself, his voice steady despite the chill and his profound exhaustion, a calm assertion of self against the immense, impossible being before him.
I came here searching for a cure.
An elder from my village, a woman known for her true sight, told me a being lives here that can offer a solution to my affliction.
Meeting the cat's intense, judging gaze, he pleaded with both an underlying desperation and an unyielding determination, "Can you, please, help me?"
The cat yawned, displaying a pink, cloud-like tongue.
"Human, I will," it replied, its voice casual yet laced with power, "if you pass my test."
"What's the test?" he asked nervously, a flicker of fear finally crossing his determined face.
Seeing this, the cloud-cat smiled, a vast, terrible expression.
It began growing, bigger and bigger, the swirling white mass of its body ballooning outward, transforming into a colossal, sentient cloud-like being that seemed to absorb the very light.
"O human, I am Vaniya," the voice declared, now a deafening resonance that shook the very air and caused the mountain's granite to groan.
I am supreme, an omnipresent being, free as the wind that whips your face.
Wherever a life is woven, wherever a tale is told, there do I exist, for I am the essence of Narrative itself.
Vaniya's voice softened slightly, a complex undercurrent of profound wistfulness entering the thunderous boom.
I yearn to transcribe the countless, magnificent lives I witness, the heroes, the villains, the countless souls who ascend and fall into Books.
But I am physically unable to perform such a minute, mortal task; my very essence is too vast.
And thus, I must enlist the aid of mortals.
I grant them one true wish in exchange for telling a story I dictate, a tale that must be woven exactly as I envision it.
However, any single mistake in the telling or any failure to complete the narrative results in their immediate and total death.
Are you, Kalven, truly ready to wager your mortal life and soul to get a single wish that may or may not cure you?"
"Yes," Kalven replied, his small voice swallowed by the great mountain but holding an unshakeable, profound conviction.
He didn't blink. "I am already dying, Vaniya, my life is forfeit regardless of this mountain.
Even if there is only a small hope, a sliver of a chance in this terrible bargain, I will try."
Vaniya, in the form of the sentient, colossal cloud, sighed a sound that manifested as a sudden, chilling, violent gust of wind that threatened to knock Kalven over.
"The human named Kalven," it continued, the sound slightly less menacing, now carrying the weight of ages of failed attempts, "you are the millionth soul to attempt to complete this story, truly a lucky, or perhaps profoundly unlucky, one.
Let us see if your conviction is worth more than your life."
With that, the colossal cloud began to shrink with startling speed, collapsing back down into the familiar, sleek, and slightly bored form of the black-and-white cat.
"Follow me," it commanded, its voice crisp and businesslike, as it turned its attention toward the dark cave entrance.
But Kalven remained rooted to the spot.
He reached into his threadbare cloak, and though no one saw a motion of retrieval, he began to chant something ancient and low.
With a flash of light, a book miraculously appeared in his hand, looking ancient and magnificent, its cover glowing in a deep purple, starry color that seemed to capture the cosmos.
He looked at the cat and asked, his voice now formal and serious, stripped of all pleading, as if reading a contract, "You, Vaniya, a supreme, omnipresent being, do you affirm that you will fulfil my wish exactly as I state it, as long as I complete the book?"
Vaniya was visibly confused, a genuine flicker of surprise in its sky-blue eyes at this sudden, aggressive, legalistic manoeuvre.
"Human, what is this insolence? What is this strange thing?" it asked.
Kalven held the book higher, his gaze unflinching. "I am a sick human who many people have lied to, cheated, and robbed in the name of a cure, Vaniya.
Trust is a luxury I cannot afford.
So, this," he stated, tapping the cover of the glowing book, "is a contract, a binding book ensuring that you fulfil my wish or you will suffer the consequences, which will be... a sudden cessation of your immortal life."
The cat's tail twitched violently, a sign of its impatience and building fury.
"As I said before, human.
As long as the wish is valid and does not break the foundational rules of the world and the divine cosmology, I will fulfill it."
The words were delivered with a snarl.
The very moment Vaniya spoke the agreement, the oath of a supreme being, Kalven's book snapped open with an audible sound and emitted a blinding, fierce purple glow.
Suddenly, a brilliant, impossibly radiant black chain shot out of the ground, luminous and humming with immense, binding power.
It wrapped tightly around Vaniya's ethereal body, constricting its cloud form, and simultaneously, a twin section wrapped around the soul of Kalven, linking them both with a single, unyielding, divine covenant.
Upon the contract being completed, the book closed with a loud thud and instantly disappeared, returning to his body as quickly as it had appeared.
Kalven immediately coughed, a harsh, sickly spasm, but he managed a triumphant, weary smile.
An expression of pure, thunderous anger, however, was visible on Vaniya's face.
The cat turned dark, like thunderclouds gathering for a biblical storm, and asked with fury and a voice that contained a new, dangerous edge, "Human, what did you do?"