And then the man told him,

　　"Why go down this path?

　　It is treacherous;

　　The path is crooked,

　　With no place for stable steps,

　　And below is a ravine that leads to hell.

　　Surely there is another path?"

　　The hero shook his head and offered a bitter smile,

　　"The way, I have consulted oracles for,

　　I`ve asked wise men to advise me,

　　And I`ve asked the artists whether the path was poetic,This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

　　This they told me and this I say to you,

　　They say there is no reward without risk,

　　To succeed I must risk death,

　　I must tempt fate,

　　Daring the heavens at every step,

　　To strike me down where I stand,

　　To banish me into hell,

　　For the path I`m on,

　　The reward I seek,

　　Is not something that should lay with untested hands,

　　If this path I can walk,

　　At the end I would claim,

　　Though there was no place safe to stand,

　　Though the path was crooked and the high winds threatened to topple me,

　　This was the path to what I sought,

　　And this was the path that allowed me to claim it,

　　If the path were a garden of roses,

　　If the path assured me of my standing,

　　It would not be a reward I claim,

　　But the sustenance of bottom feeders,

　　Even if I was given a chance to turn away, I could not,

　　My path lay laden with nails and traps,

　　But this is why god molded me as he did,

　　This is why I was tempered to this step,

　　Simply to risk my fall into the abyss,

　　In truth, I need no reward,

　　But alas, I was crafted and this is the path I must walk,"

　　The man shook his head,

　　"Pointless," he said,

　　"Better to have been satisfied with the mundane,"

　　The hero laughed a heart-wrenching bellow,

　　Tears flowed from his eyes,

　　As his mind wandered to what could have been,

　　If he had been so blessed,

　　"Alas, I was crafted this way," He said,

　　Mourning, for himself and for the world.