The Beast on Fire Mountain

The mountain of Yanartaş breathed fire. It gasped and hissed, exuding bright flames between its blackened rocks - its cragged teeth - as though Hades howled from within. There, prowling its peaks and troughs and its gaping mouth-like caves, lived the Chimaera; a beast of immortal conception. Few had dared to venture up the mountain, lest one was confronted by the flames incarnate, but today it had to be done. The entire town had agreed from the moment the Seer had declared Kadir to be a demi-God. No fate or prophecy was ever worthy without trial – even when the blood of a God was said to course through his veins. Though his adoptive mother had deemed it a blessing, Kadir felt he had been ensnared in a curse.

               He stared at the mountain top beneath the blazing blue sky. His entire town stood at his back as he dripped with sweat; shirtless, his russet brown skin was stinging from the sun. Without a word he started off along the track, the gravelly dirt crunching underfoot. He walked with his head slightly bowed so that he could watch his footfall, but not neglect his peripheral for lurking dangers. In truth, he did not wish to spend the entire journey straining his eyes against the sun, caught in the trap of incessant attention to impending peril. He was going to have to face it by the time had had reached the peak regardless. Demi-God, they had said. He certainly felt all the more human as he walked on; tired, sweaty, his lips dry, his scalp burning, his head and heart full of doubt.

By the time the sun had passed the peak and was receding behind him, he heard movement up ahead. He stopped dead and searched the view before him. Finger-like leaves of waist-high ferns barely gave a whisper in what little wind there was to be felt. Black rocks rose up from the dusty ground, leaning away from Kadir towards the entrance to a cave in the mountain, as if beckoning him in. The entrance was well lit in the setting sun. Kadir could see the charred remains of goats at the threshold. They were steaming. Beyond the corpses, flashes of flames illuminated something fearsome that was pawing at the ground.

Kadir stared at the silhouetted shape. Four pairs of gleaming eyes stared back at him, one pair above the other about a foot apart. It did not move or threaten to pounce, it only watched with a hypnotising gaze.

Kadir had no weapons. The townsfolk had said a demi-God need not a sword nor spear when his strength was tenfold that of any man. To prove that Kadir possessed this ability, he would need to claim the head of the beast with only his hands. He had no doubt that this afternoon would be his last.

Harrowed by the ease of accepting his terrible fate, Kadir approached the cave. The charcoal remains of the beast’s last prey crumbled underfoot. As he crossed into the lair, the spitting fires raged from the rocky mountain innards and persisted as one unanimous orchestra, illuminating quite starkly the Chimaera before him.

It had the great head of a lion, but as the lion lowered its head it revealed that of a goat’s with gnarled horns, rising over the auburn mane as though it rose above a flame. Swishing from its rear in slow, calculated movements like that of a being in its own right was a serpent’s tail. Its legs were that of a lion, but they were mottled with scales. Its middle had the browns and blacks of the goat’s fur mixed in with the lion’s ginger and the dark greens of its tail. It instilled in Kadir a resounding terror, which he allowed to consume him and root him to the spot. Any moment now this abomination born of flame would pounce and Kadir would surely perish. At least it could be said that he had not been too cowardly to journey here, he thought.

The stooped lion parted its snarling lips and flames spilled out through its blackened teeth. Its belly and all around its scales glowed orange as it breathed fire, and then, unexpectedly, it spoke.

“You are here for my head, no doubt, young townsman,” it said with a deep, booming voice. “But which one?”

The beast slowly prowled back and forth before Kadir. Its cat eyes and its goat eyes avidly drank in the sight of him.

“I do not believe I can take either,” said Kadir truthfully.

“Then why did you make the journey?” questioned the Chimaera, its voice oddly sage and sensible. “This Mount of flame is Hell upon the Earth. The rocks are hot, the plants sting, and in every cave there dwells a beast like me.”

“Because my people think that I am only half human.”

“And half God, no doubt?”

“Yes.”

“And you think not?”

“I cannot be. But if I had not made this journey, they would think me worse than a coward. I would bring them misfortune.”

“And so, you have come to die?”

For the first time since entering the cave, Kadir looked away from the beast. He was positively sweating from the sheer heat. Flame ahead of him, the sun at his back. He was being pressed on both sides by an insurmountable force, but he stood his ground.

“Perhaps I have,” he said, staring at the churned charcoal at the beast’s feet.

“How curious,” the beast said. “How willing, and how foolish.”

The Chimaera approached, lowering its lion head further as its goat head leaned forward. Its horns were steaming and sizzling. The goat opened its mouth wide to reveal four rows of sharp teeth and a molten tongue. From the back of its throat came a hissing sound, where the head of a snake appeared. Kadir could feel the hot breath of the lion on his feet, but he was mesmerised by the sight of the snake. Its hissing filled his ears and reverberated within him. There was a jewel upon the snake’s head that looked like a glistening bauble of blood. He wanted to reach out to take it, to hold it, to keep it forever. Some small voice at the back of his mind knew that if he did, he would be dragged deep into the pits of fire for good.

He knew then that he had enough grit to resist the call of death.

As the snake inched out further, tempting him, luring him in; as his mind lulled in and out of a hypnotic haze, Kadir drew upon the last of his inner strength to stand his ground. Closer still the snake inched, hissing deep into the marrow of his bones, filling him up with drunken desire; thoughts of wealth, of long-lasting health, if only he could have that jewel.

The snake was close enough to flicker its tongue against his nose, at which moment Kadir broke the spell. He caught its head with one swoop of his hand and held it firmly in his grip. The infernal goat gave an unnaturally livid bark and it snapped its jaw tight, slicing the snake in half. The Chimaera reared onto its hind legs. Kadir looked down in amazement as the body of the snake in his hand solidified into a sharp point like a blade. The lion head roared, and as its throat began to spark and spit with flame, Kadir drove the snake-blade deep into its gullet.

Kadir withdrew his hand and stumbled back as the beast collapsed. The flames of the cave sputtered out and darkness fell upon them. The only sound left was Kadir breathing. The jewel had shattered. He could feel the remnants of it stuck to his clammy palm.

It took him the rest of the evening to descend from the mountain. By the time he had reached the town, it was nightfall. The watchmen sounded the trumpet and within moments his people flooded from their houses towards the town gate, where Kadir stood stooped below the weight of the Chimaera beast, having brought the lion, goat, and serpent with him.