James 1:3
From the open valley he could faintly see a stairway leading up into the mist. The mountain clothed with fog stood before him like an opponent unafraid of his challenging stare. With renewed focus, Axel tightened the blood soaked bandage around his thigh, and trudged on. His resolve grew stronger. The clouds shut out the sun, and the birds flew silently, as though they were hiding something. The minutes turned into hours, and Axel’s sword and burned shield weighed heavy upon him. A squirrel caught sight of the young man, and thought,
“What? A human so far away from his land? Good heavens, it looks like he’s been through quite a bit. Quite a bit I see. Oh my. Something had clawed at him. Something evil. Something evil I see. Will he climb the mountain? What a sad sight he is. A sad sight I see.”
The curious squirrel watched Axel take the first step on the mountain’s winding stone stairway. He looked up, and stopped. The wind howled and blew through Axel’s black hair. It had taken him hours to reach the stairwell, and he wasn’t going to stop here. He had come too far.
Now the tale of the day was that no creature lived on the mountain, and realizing that his battered armor and weapons would slow him down, Axel threw them to his side, and took the first of many steps up into the mist.
Upward he went, higher and higher, slow and steady. The wind howled continuously, the clouds spewed weighty droplets, and the stones fled from Axel’s feet. One might think the three were set against him, but his stubbornness pushed him on. With sore and bleeding hands he held tightly to the stones protruding from the mountain’s sides. The winding stairway grew narrower and narrower, and each step sent loose stones over the cliff’s edge. He dared not think of home, for doing so would break his focus. One moment of distraction would make him follow the loose stones, down into the fog, never to be seen again. The three seemed to watch his progress with contempt, sending more rain and cold wind upon him, but Axel held to the mountain’s armor, gaining ground with every step. For two days, the winds, rain, and rocks were his only companion. Sleep came in short moments, no more than half a score at a time. Images of his mother sewing by the fireplace filled his dreams with a moment of comfort, until the fireplace morphed into a burning coffin, closing shut upon her. The cold quickly brought him back to the unforgiving mountain where he lay curled up against its side. The third day’s conditions arrived with peculiar violence.
“I’m nearing the top. I know by the wind’s fury,” he thought.
As all things considered dangerous and awful intensified, a sudden calm broke through as he took the last step. Axel was blinded. A light seemingly bright as the sun greeted him as the winds and rain ceased. He fell to his knees and placed his wounded hands in the soft grass before him.
“The tales are true. I’m here,” he whispered.
Axel recovered his sight, and through the tears forming in his eyes he beheld a lodge, backed by views of the lands below. Now this was not the kind of lodge one would find in human land. No, this was of a different sort. It appeared to be old from one angle, yet new from another. It seemed small from here, yet large from there. It seemed to shift from one shape to another, but this was not bothersome. The cabin seemed to grow more appealing each time it changed, yet Axel could not tell when exactly this happened, only that it did. There was a sense of peace in the air, and the once hostile mountain now seemed relieved.
“This must be the Sage’s home, what I seek is near.”
Axel picked himself up and knocked on the door. All was silent, until the door creaked and opened slowly. He was surprised to see that no one had opened it.
“Axel, I’ve been expecting you, come in sir,” an old voice said. “You’re just in time, I’ve put the kettle on the stove. Won’t you join me for tea?”
Axel walked into the living room and looked around for the voice’s figure.
“Come into my study and we’ll talk.”
Looking to his right he could see a room, quite cozy at that, filled with books lined up on the shelves. He followed the sight into what appeared to be a man’s personal library or office, the type of place you might find an author, sitting at his desk while stroking his beard, deep in contemplation. To his left Axel found the stranger, and sure enough, he was sitting at his desk, stroking his long white beard, with the look of someone who swims in deep thoughts. He peered at the young man calmly through his spectacles. Axel wasted no time.
“I am Axel, son of Adrin, and I’ve come to acquire your wisdom, O excellent Sage. What I seek is an answer to that which all men have sought, but have not found. I believed the old tales about your dwelling here on the Mortal Mountain, and I have traveled from a distant land, through much trial and suffering, even certain death, to stand before you. I pray thee, tell me the secret of life. Why do we suffer loss, pain, and calamity? Though I have inquired of men both high and low, I have not found an answer that satisfies.”
The Sage looked at Axel with tenderness in his eyes. He did not answer right away. His hands remained folded in his lap, and the room grew silent. The old Sage slowly leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. Axel grew impatient, until the man spoke.
“My son, were it not for your mother’s passing, you would not have set out on the journey to find me, and by this journey, you have learned the secret. The virtues you will need for the tasks ahead of you were formed by pain in the same way a choicest sword is forged by fire. The enemies you faced in coming here did you much good. You must kill a dragon to get the gold. The gold is virtue. There is no other way. Would you know joy, had you not known sorrow? Would you know prosperity, had you not known calamity? Would you know courage, having never known fear? When you return to human land, you may find yourself a different man than the one you left. That is the point. Your hardships have all been working for your good, preparing you for the calling assigned to you by the Creator. In due time, you may even look back and say, ‘Blessed be the Creator! ’”
Wayword 