A World Within

by James Somers

  Five hours passed before Daniel felt like he might actually have been going in the right direction. He heard the faint sound of music coming from somewhere up ahead. Almost no vegetation grew in this area. Below and to his right, Daniel saw a vast valley of green trees stretching into the distance before it terminated at the base of another mountain. Whatever forest he saw now certainly wasn’t the petrified trees of the Deadwood.

  He walked on rocky terrain littered with large boulders. Daniel noticed the music getting louder as he walked. From what he could tell, it sounded like a lone violin playing a hauntingly beautiful melody.

  Daniel knew he was going to have to rest very soon. His leg muscles burned like crazy, and he felt a number of blisters on his feet begging to pop. Up ahead the rock steepened a bit and then flattened out.

  Daniel decided this would be a perfect place to stop for awhile and rest. He was hungry and thirsty. Hopefully, the violin player might give him something to eat so he could renew his strength.

  Daniel found hand and footholds to climb the last few yards. When he got to the top, a small plateau half the size of a football field opened up before him. At the other end, Daniel saw a large stone gateway. It looked like it might have been carved right out of the mountain.

  Two pathways of hewn steps ascended up and away behind the gateway, winding up into the mountain out of sight. Seated upon the first few steps, a man played the violin. Daniel walked cautiously toward the mysterious man. What in the world is this guy doing up here?

  Daniel noticed a boulder, as tall as a man, set at the junction where the two paths began. Upon the face of the rock an inscription had been written in language he understood. It read, “There is a way that seems right unto a man, but the end of it is death.”

  He watched the curious little man seated near one of the pillars, still playing his violin as though he hadn’t even noticed Daniel standing there. Daniel cleared his throat, but the man kept playing. His eyes remained closed as he swooned with the music. The man’s clothing reminded Daniel of one of the shaolin monks he had seen in too many kung fu movies.

  “Uhm, excuse me?” Daniel said.

  The man stopped playing immediately and opened his eyes in Daniel’s direction. “May I help you, young man?”

  Hmm, everyone speaks English—how convenient, Daniel thought. “I was wondering if you’ve seen a black dragon anywhere in this mountain and, if so, which path might lead me to it.”

  “I have seen the dragon you speak of. He was carrying two persons.”

  “Meineke and Louie! Where did the dragon take them?”

  “The dragon is a very dangerous foe,” the man said. “You must be a mighty warrior if you’re looking for him.”

  Daniel felt as though he had just been sucker punched in the determination. “Well—”

  “Hmm. You don’t seem so confident.”

  “I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to save my friends, even if I do find the dragon.”

  “You have more power than you might think,” he said as he put down his violin. The man stood and offered his hand to Daniel. “My name is Fiddler.”

  “I’m Daniel, Daniel Harwick.”

  “Well, young Daniel, it appears a little training is in order to hone your abilities.” He spread his hand toward the two paths on either side of the boulder with the inscription upon it. “Upon the left path you will encounter three trials which will enable your inner strength to come out.”

  “My inner strength?”

  “Oh yes, we all have god-like qualities that you can find within yourself if you just have faith and believe,” Fiddler said, smiling. “Your own strength can save you, Daniel.”

  Daniel considered it. “So you think I should take the left path?”

  “The choice is yours to make, Daniel.”

  “What about the right side? What will I find on that path?”

  “A road less traveled, I’m afraid. Hardly anyone ever takes that path. It’s very narrow and there’s certainly nothing on it that will develop your inner strength,” Fiddler offered.

  Daniel walked toward the head of the paths where they met. He looked at the rock again and the writing upon it. “What do these words mean, Fiddler?”

  Fiddler looked at the words and then back to Daniel. “Just a riddle for the weak minded, if you ask me.”

  Daniel took a look down the right path and then the left. “Well, I guess I’d better get going. Thanks for your help, Fiddler.”