(no subject)
The spirit spoke to the man for a long time. She spoke of mountains and rivers and valleys. She spoke of great deserts and choking forests. She spoke of battles won and battles lost, of pain, suffering, of euphoric joy. Treaties made and peace shattered. Birth and death flowed from her mouth with a horrible indifference. Kingdoms rose and fell on the lilt of her voice. Love bloomed, was consummated and ended in bloody sacrifice. Her story was one of abominable beauty for it encompassed all that it was to be man, to listen to it was at once intoxicating and revolting. When she finished, she sighed and discorporated.
Momentarily she reappeared standing on the ground. She faced the man, equal to his height. Her pale blue eyes gravely searched his for several moments. She reached out a slender hand and placed it on his cheek, then drew close and kissed him, deeply. She drew away and smiled faintly.
"But that doesn't concern you. About your own journey, I can only tell you what you already know. You will not take the straight road. You cannot take it. Though you will try to direct yourself there, you will always find your way blocked, be the obstacle the world's or your own. I cannot tell you whether your broken path will lead to good things or to darkness or whether you reach your destination enriched or enfeebled, or at all. And truly, failure will always be your burden to carry. But know this. The only good in this world is struggle. Never once choose security over adventure, comfort over experience. The moment you choose rest over emprise is the moment you die. Your journey, though one of hardship, one which will burden you with sorrow and pain, is at it's core a good one. All journeys are. Never stop traveling, never stop fighting. Death is nobler than resignation."
As she spoke, the faint radiance of the spirit's azure skin increased in intensity, then faded once again as she concluded.
"That is all I can say," the spirit continued after a long pause. "The rest of your fate is your own. Despite what this Earth might contrive, it is your task to rise above it. You are a good man. Even if you cannot know it, even if you sow pain and destruction in your flight from yourself, you are a good man. Try to let that guide you."
The man opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it as the spirit faded from sight. He waited, but she did not return.
As it was late, the man camped that night at the crossroads and thought about what the spirit had said. Throughout the night, various other travelers came and sat with him to share in the warmth of his fire. He did not speak to them, but did not refuse their company. When daylight, or what passed for daylight in those parts, broke, he continued on his way.
Momentarily she reappeared standing on the ground. She faced the man, equal to his height. Her pale blue eyes gravely searched his for several moments. She reached out a slender hand and placed it on his cheek, then drew close and kissed him, deeply. She drew away and smiled faintly.
"But that doesn't concern you. About your own journey, I can only tell you what you already know. You will not take the straight road. You cannot take it. Though you will try to direct yourself there, you will always find your way blocked, be the obstacle the world's or your own. I cannot tell you whether your broken path will lead to good things or to darkness or whether you reach your destination enriched or enfeebled, or at all. And truly, failure will always be your burden to carry. But know this. The only good in this world is struggle. Never once choose security over adventure, comfort over experience. The moment you choose rest over emprise is the moment you die. Your journey, though one of hardship, one which will burden you with sorrow and pain, is at it's core a good one. All journeys are. Never stop traveling, never stop fighting. Death is nobler than resignation."
As she spoke, the faint radiance of the spirit's azure skin increased in intensity, then faded once again as she concluded.
"That is all I can say," the spirit continued after a long pause. "The rest of your fate is your own. Despite what this Earth might contrive, it is your task to rise above it. You are a good man. Even if you cannot know it, even if you sow pain and destruction in your flight from yourself, you are a good man. Try to let that guide you."
The man opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it as the spirit faded from sight. He waited, but she did not return.
As it was late, the man camped that night at the crossroads and thought about what the spirit had said. Throughout the night, various other travelers came and sat with him to share in the warmth of his fire. He did not speak to them, but did not refuse their company. When daylight, or what passed for daylight in those parts, broke, he continued on his way.