There is a mountain, beautiful to behold. At its top lies a vast plain, where true love and peace reside. Anyone desiring that life may approach the mountain and climb it, but there are only two paths, and there is no stopping halfway, lest one fall down to the barren wilderness below. For you see, its sides are steep, and there are no places of rest until one reaches the summit. Even in the wilderness, a life may be had, but it is the life of the vampire and wraith.
The two paths stand opposite each other on the mountain. One path is long, arduous, and thorny, at times very obscure and winding, at others it is broad but brutal. The other path is narrow and straight, and a train track lies upon it. The summit is accessible by the train, but the cost you must pay to ride it is everything you formerly believed and aspired to, the admittance of one’s fallibility and the mountain’s wisdom, for it is a route the mountain made himself, by his own hand, to help the people go where they could not otherwise. On the other path countless choose to collectively sacrifice themselves to the mountain’s pitiless rigors, never being quite mountainous enough themselves to survive the rocky slopes. One path appeals to very few, for few dare acknowledge that they require the assistance it offers. The other path appeals to many intrepid warriors, for they never envision their failure so often as they dream of success by their own might. One is the path of mercy. The other is the path of perfection.
Naturally, mankind is want to seek other paths, more pleasing than either of these. Dwarfing the crowds drawn to either path combined are the masses, those who attempt the mountain outside the twin paths. These are lost instantly in the thick woods of the mountain’s sides, never even breaching the foothills, yet they consider their meandering to be enlightened, for it requires neither submission nor sacrifice.
The honest men among these proudly declare themselves residents of the wilderness, and proclaim the virtues of the mires of pleasure and destruction, blood and power, to all the lost masses and fallen warriors of the mountain, causing many to even forget their longing for the mountaintop. These honest men, by such measures, also affirm their true allegiances, and attain the powers of the vampire and wraith, feeding upon those that follow them. The vampire and the wraith are similar in nature, but they have this distinction: The vampire is fleshly, and feeds on the blood of men, while the wraith is ephemeral, and feeds upon hapless souls.
Thus, looking out from the side of the mountain, one may ascertain that there are four kinds of people in the world. The humble who trust the mountain to lead them true, the proud who sacrifice themselves to the grieving mountain, the masses that wander and are eaten, and the monsters who feed upon them. These all are invited to come seek the mountain’s rest. There is only one group that ever attains to that great height, that wonderful place, where true peace not only exists, but rules eternal.
The best news available to this aching age is that you get to choose which of the four you are. This isn’t the game of life, that chooses your starting stats for you, nor the games of man, that revel in the collateral costs and glorify the beasts, nor the games of pleasure, where the prizes grow like balloons, bigger and emptier, every time you play. It’s the story of your life, and you’re the only one who can make the decisions and pick your path.
Climb wisely.
Thanks for reading! As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts. May God bless you.
With grins,
Rayanne Robison
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