[11:01:58] The King of Byson looked at the mountain with eyes of examination. His armor always did weigh him down some, but climing mountains was no problem for him. "Try not to feel... If you do, I'll save you though."

The Nyctea owl named Oriole was waiting patiently for when the two would be finished, perhaps he would even save him also if Arthor were to fall. It just stared at the two, awaiting there return to him.

"Anyway, if you fall use magic, that is training too... Training to be versatile with your magic, but do not fall on purpose." His voice was serious as he spoke the last bit of that part, but it soon lightened. "Well, I'll go first."

The King slightly streched by extending his arms and legs. After, he walked to the base of the plateau -not mountain- and began to climb. For him, he sent mana to his legs, and then kicked on some of the rocks to give him leverage with jumps... He was more hoping up the mountain rather than climbing it.

Eventually, he switched to his hands and then climbed the more traditional way, yet that too was still quick.

Now, at the top of the mountain, he looked at Arthor to see where he would be.
(Claude A. Este)

[11:15:37] The journey on the stupidly large Owl was, as always, quite a sight to see. The vast forests, swamps, and mountains that passed below, with humans, beasties, and Yokai alike nothing more than mere dots from high within the clouds. His cloak fluttered behind him and his hair whipped about violently, but in due time they had reached their destination.

As always, Claude made the task seem easy, but honestly, scaling a plateau struck him as anything but. Muscle was building, slowly but surely, but he was still young and his body had its limit. Magic was his safeguard, but there was very little way to utilize it here without engulfing himself in lightning and electricity and straight up cheating.

Not one to back down from a challenge, his left hand took to gripping onto one particular dangerous looking jagged rock that stuck out whilst the other slid into a smooth groove. With his grip established, bit by bit he began to ascend the rock-face.

Huff. Huff. Huff.

Clear beads of sweat bobbed down his forehead as he made his way higher and higher, the scorching prairie sun pounding against his pale skin. The small blue lines that spread across the length of his body seemed to pulse particularly prominently in as his body began to heat up, a trait which was inherited by most who were lucky enough to inherit the Sarradian traits.

Nevertheless, the first leg of the journey was an astounding SUCCESS! As with all things, there did, however, come a point wherein he was, for all intents and purposes, stuck! No suitable grips in sight! No ledges to rest on! He simply... hung!

"N-Now what?!" He hollered up high, his voice carried to Claude by the warm winds of the West.
(Arthor S. Avharain II)

[11:39:31] The King stared down at the boy and watched as beads of sweat dripped down his face, but he persevered. He slowly nodded, and kept a straight expression on his face. He crossed his arms and looked down with purple hues.

The sun cast over his form, and he blocked a small amount of light, which created a shadow. The winds were calming to him, it was an escape to the sin he commited with Adrian... But he shook his head for he could not grieve about his mistakes or reluctance so he could protect Byson; he was training Arthor.

Claude took in a deep breath, and then exhaled from his mouth. Word of encouragement were needed for the young Avharain that could find no grips to help him up.

The kings brows frowned, and the crown above his head shined as he began to speak out; no, sing. "Let's get down to business- to climb, this mountain. Did they send me daughters? When I asked, for sons? You're not the saddest child I've ever met, but you can bet before we're through." His voice slowly raised in pitch. "Athor I'll make you climb this mountain. Use you're magic! To climb this mountain task. To climb this mountain before the day is done!!!!!!"
(Claude A. Este)

[11:55:44] Arthor appreciated the sentiment of the song. Honestly, he did. He appreciated that Claude was trying to encourage him and compel him to SHOOT up the plateau by some miracle. That said, the song was... well, it almost made him drop there and then. Whether it have been a result of the pitchy tone or simply the shock of him bursting into song so suddenly, Arthor definitely was not ready for what he heard.

Swallowing down his VOMIT, his citrine gaze swept across the rock-face to find the grip he so desired. He did, of course, find it, though just out of reach. Risky maneuvers were in order if he were to succeed in his endeavors!

His body swung slightly as his hands locked onto their grips, his behind swinging slowly at first, with his feet dug in deep against the rock. A few seconds of preperation as he swung, and finally... a swing to the left, and his hands slid from their grip, feet pushing against the rocks and he launched himself to one side, his fingers immediately slipping over the new target...
barely.

His body swung as he clutched on to the new grip and his torso crashed into the rocks, winding him, but he managed to hold on, tears welling in his eyes as sweat stung them. Composing himself, he began to climb the final length of his journey.

He was almost there.

"STOP SINGIN'!"
(Arthor S. Avharain II)

[12:06:49] Claude watched the manuvering that Arthor pulled, and he was pretty impressed. The boy wanted him to stop singing... But he knew that Arthor was saying something else. SING MORE! But before that, he allowed his gaze to fix on him, and let a smile form on his face.

His right rose into the air, and then clenched. He brought it down to his face, and then began to sing more! His pitch lowered and thus he continued"Stable as a mountain! But so fast, as wind! Once you find your center; you are sure, to win!"

His index finger pointed down at the boy that had a few tears and sweat. Claude didn't bother with the compiling stress on the boys body, he cared that he could climb the plateau, and would save him if he fell; he needed to give him motivation! "You're a wimpering, crying avharain, and you haven't got a clue. Yes Arthor, I'll make you climb!!! This mountaaaiiiinnnnn!!!"

The song must go on, and thus the King continued to sing!
(Claude A. Este)

[12:22:11] Arthor's forehead dripped, his eyes watered, and his ears bled as he painstakingly traversed the hellish plateau. Of all the ways to train, and improve, as a warrior, as a future King, and as a hero, why did climbing this godforsaken mountain have to be the one Claude picked?

There were no answers to his questions, and it certainly seemed as though there was no end to this damn song, either.

Still he climbed, a swift response occasionally needed as small rocks and debris tumbled from above, threatening to knock him out and launch him to his doom. It took far longer than it perhaps should have, but he was taking his time and taking care, and eventually, his fingers met soft blades of grass as he pulled himself up to the top of the plateau, turning, and allowing his feet to dangle as he glanced across the sun-kissed prairie.

"...That was awful. Stop singin', dummy! Y'almost killed me with that voice!"
(Arthor S. Avharain II)

[12:31:34] Claude continued to watch with a purple gaze as the boy continued to climb the mountain. The singing must have given him confidence, for he did not slip up and almost fall to his doom.

As he was nearing the top of the mountain, Claude continued his song. "Use your magic!!! You must be as swift breezing wind!!! Use your magic!!! With all the force of a great storm!!! Use your magic!!! With all the strength of shining star!!! Mysterious as the sun which shines down!!!"

Claude watched as Arthor's fingers reached the grass blades which rested at the top of the plateau. He stopped singing, and smiled at Arthor who had done the task required.

"Good, good. You made it to the top of the plateau... Now!" Claude rested the cloth covered Dragonsbane to the side, and crossed his arms once more; he smiled with a mysterious look. And took on the hand-to-hand combat form of the Garuda style. "With the rest of your stamina. TEST YOUR MIGHT!!!"
(Claude A. Este)