The Adventurer

There once was an adventurer who appeared brazen, energetic, and full of poise. His entire life seemed in preparation for the journey at hand, and nothing was going to keep him from accomplishing it. At least that’s what he thought until he found his horse dead.

Staring bleakly at the immobile beast, the young adventurer pondered why fate had decided to impart such an act upon him. Was this recompense for some unknown fault? Did someone harbor ill will towards his journey? How could fate be so cruel? The relentless assault of questions upon his ego left him torn and despondent. This was not going to be an easy journey.

Gathering his things, a light load prepared for a long journey, he decided to make the best of his situation. Taking the advice of an older friend, he returned to the place he had started from in hopes of determining where he should head next. Upon arriving, the common question was always, “Weren’t you leaving?” Others would ask what had happened to his horse, and the adventurer would always have to reply that he didn’t really know. This further thrust the young adventurer into hopelessness exacerbated by a sense of failure. While adventurers are romanticized, failed adventurers are regarded without much respect. For what is an adventurer if he has no adventure?

Minutes and weeks passed slowly. The adventurer spent much effort seeking counsel regarding his course of action. But, rather than finding leading, he found that people’s words often left him wanting. Long days were spent reading, listening, and watching. Songs played, thoughts progressed, and a stream of doubt flooded the young adventurers mind. In his state of solitude, quiet whispers of silent counsel began to edge at his will and quicken his regress. His soft spoken deceivers began to speak well of his situation, and encouraged him to seek more solitude.

Taking heed of his council’s words, the young adventurer began building a town founded upon thoughts and ideals. The entire city was built as a means of comfort and hiding. Many doors led to many buildings whose sole purpose of existence was to give the adventurer silence. However, much to the council’s dismay, many wandered effortlessly into the adventurer’s town. While some aided the adventurer in building his city, some seemed to chip away at its foundation, leaving the adventurer to repeatedly rebuild parts of the town. Eventually the council gave word to the adventurer that he might construct a wall to protect his solitude.

The adventure went to work gathering many stones, placing them along the perimeter of the city. If these wanderers were going to break his town, then he would have to keep them out. Slowly, piece by piece, he erected a formidable wall, high enough that no one would be able to enter the town except by a small gate that he and the council kept watch over.

Over time, the adventurer grew hungry. Outside the walls were fields, full of grain, and a translucent river, all that he needed to sustain him. And yet he found himself unwilling to wander outside of the walls in fear of being left vulnerable to other wanderers or attack. The council saw this and decided that they would be able to supply him with food. Yet the food that they supplied always seemed to leave the adventurer hungrier than if he had not eaten at all.

Occasionally, the few wanderers admitted to come in would bring him small morsels of food that would sustain him for a while. One such wanderer was a young woman whose presence brought a refreshing sentiment. Not long after she came, an older gentleman came with food that was good, yet difficult to eat. This greatly troubled the young adventurer, for the ones who brought him food were also the ones that brought ruin to his city. In desperation, he closed off the gates entirely, only allowing people to stand at the gate and talk to him through a small portal.

As the adventurer continued to build on his town, he noticed that his was not the only one. Nearby, he found that there were many towns much like his own, differentiated by only a few insignificant details. He also noticed that the wanderers had begun to throw satchels of food over the wall for him to eat. Occasionally the council would find one of these satchels and mix it with their own food. Upon eating it, the adventurer found himself complaining about the nearby towns and their apparent errors. From time to time he would pick up small stones and toss them as far as he could towards the other towns. Yet his efforts were in vain, the stones always fell far away from his target.

One day, waking up from an evening’s rest, the young adventurer peered over the wall and found that the group of wanderers had grown. The council advised him that an army was forming to siege the town, and that he should gather more stones and make the wall thicker. As he worked on the wall he found that the growing force outside was not so much attacking, as working together to bring the wall down. For each layer the young adventurer added, the group outside would remove one. This carried on for months until the adventurer ran out of room and materials. At this point he began taking apart the buildings within his city to fortify his wall. Yet the more he built, the more the army pressed on. Eventually he found that the wall had left him with nothing but a small place to stand for himself and the council.

Feeling trapped, the young adventurer began to panic. Looking over the wall, the army had grown to a considerable size, and was gathering together next to the wall. With nothing left to build with, near starvation, and only his council to listen to, the adventurer began to lose hope. Then one day, as he was listening to the advice given daily, he heard a familiar voice. Climbing up to look out over the wall, he recognized the young woman. Her voice was soothing and reminded him of a time when he did not have a wall, a town, or a council. Yearning to call out to her, the adventurer found that the council had climbed up the wall to subdue him. As he tried to speak, they clasped their hands over his mouth and carried him down.

The young adventurer began to lose all hope. He found his words withheld, his thoughts confused, and his hands tied. In this state, distinguishing between the council’s food and that which was sent over the wall became nearly impossible. At times he would plead with the council to let him go, only to find that his words would then be focused upon the army outside and the towns nearby.

Tired, bound, and empty of feeling, the young adventurer became desperate. A cry arose from his lips, and he called out for help. Suddenly, to his side, a small opening appeared in the wall and the older gentleman’s hand came through. Light then began flooding into the area surrounding the young adventurer, and more hands began pulling away at the wall. As the light flowed over the council, he found their words silent and his hands free. Next, the entire wall began to shake, and a great fire consumed all that was left. As the flames closed in on the young adventurer, he found that rather than being burned, he was filled with a sense of freedom unbeknownst to him ever before.

After the fire subsided, the young adventurer rose from the ashes of his wall. Drawing the sleep from his eyes, he looked towards the army and found that it stretched far beyond his immediate vision. The many faces that composed the army were young and old, familiar and unfamiliar. The further the faces were, the more unfamiliar they became. It was then that he realized, this was not an army sent to subdue him, but to set him free.