Chapter VIII: On the Road

Once upon a time, as I was treading along a long and lonesome road, with nothing but a satchel flung over my shoulder, vast barren plains with mountains layering the horizon, I came across a tree.  Like a single quark in an endless abyss, it stood tall, out of place. And from that tree fell a fruit.  I stepped forth and picked it up, examining it.  Hunger had its hold over me so I bit into it.  But the moment I did, I noticed a worm emerge from within, and I immediately spat out the piece still in my mouth.
 
"Declare", cried the squirmy fruit worm.

"Declare what?" inquired I, as I rolled my tongue in my mouth, clearing any gobs that remained.

"Declare your truth", it retorted once more.
 
I did not understand.

So I dropped the fruit and continued onwards.

Meanwhile, a she-demon, invisible to the naked eye, had perched herself upon the tree, and had been observing me.  As I proceeded on my walkabout, she whisked herself through the air and transformed into a boulder at a distance I could not yet see.  All I felt was a gust of wind, which I failed to acknowledge as anything other than the breeze oft whispering across this desolate road.
 
Later, I came across that boulder.

I stopped in my tracks and examined it.  'Twas black granite, I observed, and certainly not from these parts.  Not that I knew what nor where nor when these parts were.  So I proceeded to go around the boulder.

"Decry", cried the boulder.

I turned around and saw nothing but the boulder.

"Decry your lies", it spoke once more.

I was puzzled.
 
"Decry what?" I inquired.

The boulder rolled, as if to face me, though it had no face of its own.

"Decry your false constructs and misconstrued truths", it echoed in the barrenness of the empty plains.
 
I did not understand.

So I turned and proceeded to edge along the endless road, scuffing the trail with my heavy feet.

Little did I know that all this time, an angel baby had strung itself to my left foot; having witnessed my encounters, it flung itself off and pranced on ahead of me.  Like the she-demon, it too was invisible to the naked eye, subtle to the touch, though it had a slight translucent hue emanating from it.  As I observed this strange glow speeding across the road ahead of me, I passed it off as perhaps a mirage, a glare from the sun, its light shades and colors deceiving my sight, yet felt my gait become more firm and balanced.
 
I looked up, but could not see the sun.  The sky was far too luminescent and its brilliance far too sharp to focus.  So I lowered my head and proceeded.  As I had done throughout this trail, my sight on the road below, treading, trudging.
 
Erstwhile, the angel baby had spoken to the demigod of the cosmos, telling him of my ceaseless walk upon this most sacred of roads, of my defiance towards the signs laid out by the worm, the she-demon and now the angel baby.  The demigod had decreed that I be punished for my insolence, for defying the laws of her faithful demigod monkeys, as had been writ in the Book of Apes & Ayr in the ages forlorn.
 
So the angel baby and the demigod transformed into a door, which I then happened upon.  It was wooden, made of beechwood, I speculated, and like the tree and the boulder, stood out of place in the middle of this road.
 
Once more, I took a pause in my steps.

"Deny!"

The word echoed, this time louder than it had from any of the other oddities upon this road.  Foreboding, stern.

"Deny?", I repeated.
 
"Deny yourself and submit, for your truths are false and your lies are inadequate", cried the door.

I did not understand.

So I opened the door and walked on through to the other side.

The door remained open as the scorching heat from the strange glow of the sky radiated all around me.  I proceeded, as the angel baby and demigod transformed back into their ethereal selves and glared in horror at my sheer indifference.
 
"We shall strike down upon him with great vengeance and fu ...", cried the demigod, only to be interrupted by the she-demon, who had appeared with the howl of the wind.

"The Man cannot be struck, you megalomaniac", spoke the she-demon in her sinister tone.
 
"'Tis the duffel he carries, for it hath powers beyond our might, a relic made in the ancient times before there was light."

At that point, the angel baby became furious and plunged forth towards the demon, only to find himself head down in a pile of rubble at the edge of the road.
 
"Tsk tsk.  Know you know that I am the fiery wind of the plains? That I cannot be seized by your likes?", she retorted mockingly.

"Enough", spoke the demigod this time.  "Though the people of Ayr are forbidden from fraternizing with the likes of you, speak, she-demon. Tell us, what know you of the sacred duffel of the being called Man?"
 
Like a seductive snake, the she-demon slithered herself towards the demigod, transforming into various shapes and colors in her approach.

As the snake woman was whispering long tales of the magical items in my satchel, I had been, I realized, walking thousands of miles on this gravel-ridden road.  I looked up to gaze how far the road went, and noticed a dust storm forming up ahead.  But it was neither approaching nor receding.  Like a slow tornado trapped in a hollow vassal, it stood tall, towering, spinning like a mesmerizing sand globe, yet far too sluggish to be a storm.
 
Yet again, I stopped and examined it closely.

Though the sand was moving slow, it was far too dense to see within, so I proceeded to walk into it.  Particles of sand grazed upon my skin as I lowered my head and covered my eyes.  I then took off my satchel, untied its noose and retracted a woolen handkerchief which I wrapped around my face.  Almost immediately, I began to notice that the dust was becoming less dense, and not a moment after that thought, the dust cleared and I found myself in the very eye of this very still and silent dust storm.
 
I looked up once more.

The facade of this large structure of swirling sand had blocked off much of the brilliance of the sky, and I finally realized why I could not see the sun before.  With the reduced glare, I noticed that there was not one brilliant sun but a cluster of suns in the sky, all merging and bouncing haphazardly in the heavens above, their brilliance far too powerful to be discerned by the naked eye.  Awed by this finding, I sat down on the ground and continued to gaze upon the dance of the thousand suns.  The sight, as profound as it was harrowing, left me ravenous.  So I swung over my satchel once more and emptied its contents.  Out came a small, ripening pear, a blunt and bent knife and a silver box.  I picked up the pear and began to eat it, all the while staring at the oblong box.  Quickly, I went back to my satchel, frantically turning my hand inside it.  As I finally gripped what I was searching for, a relief came over me and I took out a withering and dusty notebook.  I then opened the oblong box to reveal a tiny quill that I had crafted out of a crow feather.
 
Then, I began to write.

I wrote of the things I had encountered, of the creatures and their fatuous proclamations, of the strange artefacts, highlighting my incomprehension and doubt.
 
I am merely the observer, I penned, and my observations are not without flaws.  I declared that the truth of this road was inconclusive and the signs were meaningless, with my last phrase being ...

"For what good are signs on a single, straight road?"

 
With that I packed my accessories and stood back up, only to find that the storm had disappeared.  I looked straight towards the road I was to go upon and noticed it was swerving towards an edge.  I quickly scampered on.

As I swerved around the mountains blocking my view of the turn, I beheld the last sign on this long and lonesome road.  The only sign, I realized in retrospect, that had any actual significance.
 
And one that I could finally understand.

For there was no road beyond the blockade, and the sign on it read simply:

The End