Chapter 13.4.2

The path seemed longer than the last time I had traveled it. I scraped the crusty surface of the tunnel, and I stumbled on the uneven floor. Peter kept me from knocking my head on the ceiling, as I was pulled down when he bent over, but I often caught my shoulder on the side at the narrower parts. Bruised and bleeding more than when I started, I stepped with gratitude onto the narrow ledge that looked over the great cavern.

Then remembered the narrow, slick switchback trail. It had been a test when I was well, but now it was an impossibility. I sank to my knees, defeated.

The shadows of the cavern lightened, and I saw the stone dragon. He shifted, his wings spreading slightly, and turned his head toward me. Emerald eyes glittering, he spoke in a voice that shook the mountain. "If you think this path is hopeless, it will be. If you see it as only a challenge to overcome, you will."

I rose to my feet. Peter did not move, as if turned to stone when the dragon came to life.

Was this a demon or a god? It spoke, and thus was more likely the latter – but only one of our gods is known to take the form of a dragon, and that is a god who is far above the affairs of mere mortals. So this must be a demon. Irritated at its impudence, I thought, And where does your path lead, that I must suffer to travel it?

My thoughts came out as words, spoken in the voice I did not have.

The dragon’s throne began to shine with a light that would have dimmed the sun, then the damp stone became gold and silver that looped up and cascaded down the sides. Glittering jewels – rubies, sapphires, and diamonds – crusted the armrests and backrests that curved up from the soft velvet seat. The dragon now had emerald scales and ruby eyes, and his breast plate and underwings gleamed gold. When he spread his wings a moonbow cast across the darkness, touching the far wall. The stone opened, letting a multitude of beings creep forth. Demons, spirits, and animals crept forward and lay down at the base of the throne.

A crown of fire circled his head as the throne turned milky-white, a swirl of clouds. The whiteness parted, showing the whole world beneath the dragon, his wide wings covering what is, what has been, and what will be. He roared, "Do you challenge the Master of Paths?"

A god, most definitely, and none other than the oldest and greatest of them all. Mere mortal that I was, I bowed and said, "Forgive me. I only wanted to know, not to challenge."

The Master of Paths gave me a tolerant smile. "For an ignorant child, you pass the tests well. Look on this."

Beneath him, the image of the world shifted and twisted, then formed itself into unnatural warriors that fought among desolation and waste. "This will be, should you fail your greatest test. You, small but chosen one, have no small part to play in the fate of the world."

Chosen one? I was but a mute cripple, shut away from his calling, without even the support of the Christian lord who had abandoned him. And yet, if the Master of Paths himself pronounced it so, I must be, though I could not see how it could be. If the fate of the world depended upon my actions, I must be careful of them. Still, there was one thing I had a right to know.

Gathering up my courage, I said boldly, "Tell me what I must do to succeed."

"Do not turn back from the path set before you!" With that, the Master of Paths folded his wings about him, plunging the room once more into darkness.

I shook my head to clear the last of the vision. Peter stooped then, and signed in the pale light of the lamp, "You fainted. Should we rest?"

I shook my head. The command from the God had been quite clear.