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Exhausting steps, one after another, but pain reaches deeper than your 

skin and flesh. In this place it enters your soul.

The Cliffs of Confusion are infamous for the games they 

play in your mind. From my vantage point, I glance far 

below into the Town of the Valley with its innocent 

cottages and steaming chimneys. An overwhelming 

impatience harrows me.

Why does it have to be me?

Why is this Mountain so tall?

Surely I'm not able to reach that distant height above 

me. 

"Stop!" I shout, which echoes eerily among the rocks.

If I must do this, I want to 

return home safely, and I do 

remember that Gildenam 

was completely confident in 

his decision.

"My magic predicted 

you as capable of the 

quest," the village 

sorcerer had stated. 

"Though only a young 

girl, Estai, the stars 

reveal it must be you. 

With peace finally 

settling on the land, the 

villagers don't know 

what do do with their 

lives. I cannot predict 

their Destiny alone. You 

must meet with Truth, who 

lives at the very tip of the 

Mountain of Destiny, and 

return to tell us his wisdom.

All of this happened only three days ago and since then I've 

been struggling to climb up the Mountain, struggling to 

convince myself that I'm right for such responsibility. Surely 

I'm no different to any other village girl, surely I can't save 

my people and show them the way to their future. 

I've begun to trudge up a steeper slope, where jagged rocks 

poke out menacingly, indicating I've reached the Heights of 

Fear, the pinnacle of my climb up the Mountain of Destiny.

I'm just about to edge around a particularly large boulder when 

I hear a loud crack, and in front of me, a floating white figure 

appears. Scared stiff, paler than a ghost, I step back in shock, as 

a strange figure approaches.

"Ancestor of the Mountian, keeper of all things transparent: I 

am Clarity."

He has a trailing white beard, and sits cross-legged in the air, 

encompassed by a glowing ring of light. I am silent in awe, 

sure that no one has ever seen such a man before.

"My duty is to give you advice: nothing more, nothing 

less."

It's one of those moments where I try to speak, 

but a lump in my throat won't allow it.

With that, he fragments into shards of light, and his spirit is 

carried off by a strong wind into the distance.

I navigate past the boulder and 

continue walking for hours, slowly 

tiring until my body is shaking with 

fatigue. Breeze turns to gusts. Rain 

patters then showers, thunder and 

lightning tower above. The Heights of 

Fear are creeping into my soul, 

draining away my confidence. 

All I carry is a satchel of food and a 

selection of potion vials given to me 

by Gildenam, and know that these are 

all probably useless. Panic. That’s all I 

know to do.   I’m going to let everyone 

down: the entire village, my entire 

family… and what will happen to my 

poor younger brother and sister if I 

injure myself and never get back 

down the Mountain? 

PANIC

Valleys surround me, 

valleys hundreds of feet below me, 

valleys that draw me to fall to a perilous death. The 

world begins to spin uncontrollably. The mountains 

seem overturned and I’m losing my footing. 

My scream pierces the air as I grapple 

desperately to the rocks, feet tenuously gripped 

to a tiny ledge which is weak 

and will soon crumble away, 

taking me with it. 

Streams of water are washing over me,

pulling me from safety. 

I begin to tell myself, 

this battle cannot be won.

Not only is Fear challenging me physically, it attempts to attack my 

psyche too. 

Unexpectedly, my body begins to act for me. I fling the strap of the 

satchel onto a stony overhang, and a blue vial which slips out, 

smashes, and spills around me. It makes a sizzling sound, as it dries 

the area clean. All of the rain that falls here is immediately absorbed 

into this strange dehydrating substance. To my surprise, I can now 

scramble back to the pathway, and as I do this, I see the narrow ledge 

I had been perched on dwindling distantly into the gorge. 

As I begin to walk along again, the 

storm strangely blows away, 

and in a matter of minutes, 

the bulbous Sun is illuminating the 

sky in perfect splendour. 

The drumming of my heart is 

lessening, relaxing. 

It musn’t be far until I reach my 

destined goal. 

When I turn the corner, I’m startled. On the ground in 

front of me is a large pile of red ash which in a split-

second swirls into a human form. 

“Estai,” it speaks with a voice like crackling flames.

“Yes,” I stammer, almost falling over in shock. I’m 

backing away. This sand pile seems sinister, and its 

form is not even possible. 

“Essence of the Mountain, fearlessness in soul: I am 

Courage. Without further ado, I wish to present you 

with my words of wisdom.”

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