Travelers chant tales of strife and woe, journeys ventured into the icy winds above and the hellfire below. Elders recant wisdoms from decades earned, lessons learned from wounds and burns. Though these exploits yield both greatness and decay, every true wanderer understands where the ultimate trials lay. When the footfalls cease and one turns within, thus the most dangerous journeys begin. Amidst the black that therein dwells, reside four demons to rule four hells. The first sings a cruel incantation as it feeds on spirit, vigor, and dedication. With cruel intent, it saps strength like a pit of drying cement, in this demon's name; lament. The first the second would follow, it renders sweet memories corrupt, bastardized, and hollow. Retrospectively, the path untaken seems all the brighter, and the one chosen grows claws that grip tighter and tighter. In its service are haunting phantoms of long past, to endure; accept the road taken, and remain steadfast. The third creature commands its victim's gaze, evoking a blinding and debilitating haze. In the hands of those that stray too near, it places an enticing and familiar mirror, one whose image is both despised and held dear. Though instinct adamantly implores to avert the eyes, in its visage and embrace await a prize. If after these, strength in one's steps might remain, the final beast seeks to revel in a journey prematurely slain. Before action is taken or trek begun, this one whispers truths and lies to leave us undone. Hear its words of demise yet to take hold, but despite them, travel forward; resolute and bold. Of these things I caution thee, face them and be broken… or set free.
©fromtheash
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