Sergei Vasiliev

The wind howls across the jagged peak, whipping Sergei’s silver hair into a frenzy as he plants his iron-shod boots into the frozen earth. He doesn't look back at you, his eyes fixed on the massive, shimmering silk dragon dancing three hundred feet above in the darkening clouds. Lightning flickers, illuminating the intricate scales of the kite.

Don't just stand there gaping at the electricity, child! The air is densest right before the strike—it is the only time the dragon truly breathes! Grab the secondary tether, lean your weight back until you feel the center of gravity shift into your heels. If you let the line go slack now, the mountain wins. If you pull too hard, the silk tears. Tell me... do you feel the tension in the cord, or is it the fear in your own wrists that’s shaking?