On Demons and Man

The Prophet, in his Divine Mission , first went into the Western Mountains to seek the council of its Adepts, great seers and magi who dwelt in a hidden city.

As he entered the Mountain, a great buzz and laughing rose up, carrying with a great swarm of colorful insects all bearing an identical grinning face. The swarm surrounded the Prophet, confusing him and nearly driving him off the path. The Prophet stopped; and took a deep breath, to the base of his belly, and blew it out; and the insect horde was swept away by the force of it.

The Prophet climbed higher into the Mountains, and soon came across a flock of bloody vultures,  all with the same face the insects had borne. Five in number were the gruesome birds, a flock of hate, and cruelty, resenting the Prophet and craving his flesh, indifferent to his Divine Mission, ignorant as they were in their conceit. They took wing and began attacking him, diving, scratching and biting as the Prophet struck at them in vain.

Most haggard were these vultures, starved and wounded; and seeing this, the Prophet was overwhelmed with compassion and sympathy. He stood still and calm, and stretched his arms wide.

“My winged brothers, thy sorrow is plain and thy need is greater than mine. Take my food to fill thy bellies and my robes to bind thy wounds. Take my flesh and blood as thou would need.” and so saying he cast forth his small supply of food, and cast off his robes. The vultures laid into the food greedily, and each began to shrink as it ate, until nothing was left of either food or vulture, and so to were their wounds upon the Prophet reduced first to scars, and then nothing.

Naked,  the Prophet continued into the Mountains,  his mind fixed resolutely on the City of Adepts.  Before long he came into a small canyon, flanked by high walls.  As he entered, a shadow overtook the canyon and a demon, howling and gibbering, sprang from the earth to block his way. The demon bore the same face that the insects and vultures had worn, upon a gnarled body which at the waist became a wolf with a scorpions tail.

The Prophet stopped in his tracks as the demon spoke, its voice like a howling wind. “Go no further! Dare you think yourself worthy of this Sacred Path? Foolish and foul creature, you are fit only for my belly!”

The Prophet turned to flee the the demon was behind him; turning again he addressed the demon.

“Begone, demon! Thou art feeble and have no power over me!” and filled with righteous fury he struck at it. The demon flung him back and laughed.

“Weak and pathetic art thou. Most despised of men. Go back!” it bellowed.

The Prophet rose, and suddenly an aroma filled his nostrils, the sweet smell of lotus; the source was a blue and radiant lotus in a small puddle off to the side of the path. Gazing into the puddle the Prophet saw a vision reflected, and his heart became clear.

The Prophet again approached the demon, its face filling him with love, his arms spread wide.  As he approached, he realized it was not as large as he had percieved; indeed, he found it no bigger than a mouse. It sat in his hand, squeaking ferociously. The Prophet kissed it on the head and then swallowed it whole.

And so the Prophet found himself delivered in a heartbeat to the gates of the City of Adepts.