The last climb began before dawn on the seventh day, and the whole mountain knew it.
Ananta Regalon moved out from the cold ledge in the grey half-light, the summit's soft glow burning steady above them through the parted clouds, and all across the broken slopes the other kingdoms moved with them. There was no hiding it anymore. Every banner still left in the trial had turned toward the crown at once, and the mountain had become a single crowded race with only one prize waiting at the top.
The first rival reached them within the hour. A kingdom in silver and green came down across a ridge to cut the Regalon column off from the fastest path, and their intent was plain in the way they moved. They did not want to pass. They wanted to hold Ananta Regalon in place long enough for someone else to reach the summit first, and take the whole trial from them by simple delay.
