Impulse and Reason

The shrill, high-pitched voice had called out to me again. I knew its call was aimed at me. I just knew it. It could not have been otherwise. It instilled such a primal fear within me, I could not help but yelp in terror. What is it about this voice that shook me so to my core?

I started sprinting, basically flushing my chances of survival down the drain as I completely lost my cool. In the corner of my eye, I saw something move in an unnatural manner. Almost as if a moose started walking exclusively on its hind legs. I reverted my own gaze back to the front, I cannot be distracted from my path, I stressed to myself.

In a distant shadow, behind a tree, I saw a pair of white eyes staring at me. It had a huge smile on its face; it’s teeth bright white, almost bleached. The sheer terror was too great for me to bear, and I froze in place. I stared, and it stared back. I must have been standing here for 5 hours, but in truth, 5 seconds had gone by.

The creature, clad in a shadow, stepped out from behind the tree, and quickly darted towards me. Its unnatural movement synergized with its appearance and created a terrifying scene. Lanky limbs, a lengthy abdomen, and a famished face ready to devour me as if I was its first meal in ages. I could do nothing but stand frozen in time, quietly despairing my state.

“Oi!” A deep voice echoed throughout the forest. A broad-shouldered goblin tackled the creature from its flank. The smile on the creature’s face collapsed and turned into a frown, its mouth still full of white-teeth. Its head had remained composed while the rest of its body was tackled. I heard it shriek out in a shrill, high-pitched voice once more, as the man hammered into it with a reflective object. A metal weapon of some sorts.

I thawed out, I had to make a swift decision. Do I flee, or do I help the man? It was turning dark, but my eyesight and senses remained sharp. Something about being a goblin made me adept at the night life, I supposed. If this man were to be killed, I could not live with myself. Who says I even got to live? The creature would surely track me down again. I had to make up my mind already.

“Grrrh… Ey!” The struggling goblin called out to me. The creature had inflicted him with a cut on his right cheek. “Don’t just stand there… Ugh! G-get outta ‘ere!” His struggle made me feel inclined to help. I stared and watched him fight for what felt like a minute before reaching a conclusion.

“S-sir!” I replied with a bravado. “You fail, and that thing will track me down. I’ll lend you my strength!” Perhaps I could illicit some confidence within him with my brave act, but either way, I had to jump in. In truth, I was in a state of panic. My bravado served more to brace myself than to inspire the goblin. With my sharp claws at the ready, I stormed towards the goblin and his opponent.

“Agh! Don’t!” Rung the goblin’s warning.

With each hurried step towards the creature, my speed decreased until I came to a halt in front of the fight scene. My legs were shivering, and I was once again frozen in place. It was as if my heart stopped beating, my blood stopped circulating, and the molecules in my body ceased movement. Never have I felt this way before in my two lives.

The creature shoved its front hooves into the goblin’s face, and he was thrown off. He tried to stand up, but the creature, which was flailing about on the ground, struck his chin with one of its broken hind legs. The goblin was laid out cold.

All this time, the creature’s face was locked onto mine. Its gaze had not broken, even as the goblin hammered into it. It ceased its flailing and crawled towards me, its terrifying smile reappearing.

Oh… oh. I’m going to be devoured…

I felt the tears well up as I began to despair at my petrified state. O God, I hope that this was all some silly little dream, and that I will wake up back in my room on Earth. In Austria. In Graz. O God, please hear me!

In the midst of my sincere prayer, I heard the shaman’s puzzle ring in my ears once more: “A king has to cross a dune of quicksand to save his kingdom, but he will be swallowed up if he rushes in a panic, and so too will he be devoured if he remains stationary in fear, so what must he do to save his realm?”

All I had done in this forest was act on impulse and fear. Whenever panic struck me, I ran. I ran away from the creature twice, and ran towards it once. Whenever faced with the creature, I froze in place. So what lies between a run and standing still? What was the answer again…? I swear I knew it! What must I do to save my realm?

I realized now why the shaman did not want to hear my answer prior. This puzzle can only truly be answered with a demonstration. My nerves calmed slightly at this realization, and with that grain of relief, the answer to the puzzle resurfaced.

The creature’s smile waned as it read my renewed resolve. I put my petrified left foot forward. Then I put my frozen right foot in front. My left, and then my right. Slow and steady. This is how I rotated between the two. I was heading towards the creature, who now wore a fierce frown on its face. I readied my claws, this time without a brave act, but with conviction. The creature no longer scared me in the slightest.

If the king runs over the quicksand, he will sink. And if he remains stationary, the same will happen. But if he treads with care and takes his time, he will safely cross the dune. And thus, I approached the creature unhurriedly. How could I forget that slow and steady wins the race?

The creature shrieked in an attempt to petrify me once more, but I remained calm and collected. It stopped crawling, and now it was its turn to freeze in place. It could read something deeper growing behind my eyes. Something deep red. It whimpered in fear.

The humiliation I felt from when I was frozen resurfaced the moment I slashed its face with my claws. The scenes replayed in my head: I stood there frozen like a wimp, completely subdued by fear. I could do nothing but lament my situation as the terror hollowed out my heart. Never had I felt such fear, and never had I felt such humiliation. Now, seeing this horrid monster at my mercy, I could not help but let my rage boil over.

My fear burned into fury, and I tore into the thing with ferocity. I slashed and slashed, until I felt a gnawing desire to crunch down on its limbs and shatter its bones. I grabbed its head and introduced it to the floor. I stomped my leg on the back of its head and fixed my foot upon it like a pillar; I had it subdued. I grabbed one of its front limbs and bit down with all my feelings of wroth and indignation. I felt my expression loosen up.

It screamed out in pain. Its yelp instilled within me another wave of frustration, and my expression tightened once more. “Y-you beast!” I quickly roared in response, and I increased my leg’s pressure on its head. Before I knew it, my foot had broken through its skull and was subsequently covered in slimy goo. Pure silence and peace ensued for a few seconds.

Meanwhile, the emotions in my head were all over the place. I went from extreme terror to composure. From composure back to extreme terror. I went from this terror to a boiling rage, and now… I could not help but break down as the emotions welled up.

As a man, I could handle an intense sentiment here and there without cracking. But to switch between such primal emotions multiple times in a short moment, I could not help but relieve myself, crying my eyes out. The tears and snot equally flowed, and any sense of shame had disappeared. It’s fascinating, isn’t it? I had become enraged because something else humiliated me, but now, here I was bawling my eyes out without a care in the world. I suppose it was only natural. What person could not cry after looking death in its terrifying face and overcoming it nonetheless?

I leaned back on a tree next to the unconscious goblin. I cried audibly for five seconds before calming down. Five seconds was all I needed to get my emotions out. I kept sniffling for a while, though, while watching the dead beast go through rigor mortis. It was creepy, even in its current state, and I felt nothing but revulsion for it.

“O God, praise be to You for saving me…”

***

As the night fell and the forest succumbed to darkness, Albar remained reclining against the tree. He positioned the slumbering goblin next to him, and patiently awaited his awakening.

Albar was calm, but distraught. He had wept not from weakness or humiliation, but from the glorious truth of survival. Only a man who had truly feared could rage so fiercely, and only a man who had truly raged could cry so honestly. Albar had been confronted with disgrace and terror, but had returned a victorious goblin. Alive and well. What can such a man do but sincerely praise God?