The Valley of Shadows
Into The Valley
The thing nobody tells you about the Valley of Shadows is that it’s not really a valley per se. It has a valley in it, and this is the true Valley of Shadows, but there’s a lot more to it than just this—there’s an ocean, and there’s mountains, and there’s rivers, and there’s a lot of other things as well. However, the Valley of Shadows takes its name from one particular valley.
This valley goes down the centre of the region that the guardian in the waiting room referred to as the Valley of Shadows. I suppose after it leaves the mountains, it become more of a canyon than anything else, however the map outside the hallway marked both the valley and the connecting canyon as the true Valley of Shadows, so I guess for all intents and purposes the people of the region considered them to be one and the same.
This is all going by a single map that was directly outside the hallway that I’d walked down after leaving the waiting room. And it was a detailed map—it was far more detailed than any map of its size I’d seen before, though I’d seen many maps that detailed since then. It was the first of its kind in my mind, though I’m not sure how accurate an assessment that is.
But thing is, when I was staring at it, it was like the rest of the world didn’t really exist. It was like a dream to me, and a dream was all I really wanted. In a lot of ways, the entire afterlife was like that—a surreal dream that there was no escape from. Not all of it was bad, of course, it’s just that for the most part, it was incredibly frightening because I wasn’t used to it.
During those first few days in the afterlife, it was only my desire to get back to the living world that kept me going. I wandered down the path to the true Valley of Shadows by myself because there was nobody around to keep me company, and it was during this walk that I saw some of the strangest things that I’d ever seen.
I saw trees growing from the clouds, their roots intertwined with the clouds and reaching out almost as if they were going to take hold of the sun. But there wasn’t just one sun here, there were six, and the sky wasn’t blue, it was more of a purple. The suns would all set at around six pm, and they’d rise twelve hours later.
The afterlife was a strange place. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Even though the trees were connected to the clouds, they still cast down shadows while the clouds didn’t. The grass grew a shade of orange.
When it rained, it wasn’t like rain in the world of the living; it was like a waterfall from the clouds to the ground, with the branches of the trees acting like rocks that shaped the falls. It was spectacular.
But eventually I found myself at the point where the two halves of the true Valley of Shadows met. I stood there for a moment, pondering the two paths. There was a sign there that said, “Fear is the enemy, the only enemy. Tread where you think angels may fear to tread and soldier on.”
I sat down for a while, pondering this. It was only then that I realised that I hadn’t eaten in the three or four days since I died, and it was only then that I realised that I probably wouldn’t ever need to eat ever again. So I passed the time for a while just sitting there until a snail found its way over the rock next to me.
“You’ve come to the right neighbourhood, friend,” the snail said.
“Hi, I’m Mister Smith,” I said. “I’m looking for the road on which angels fear to tread.”
“Why darling, there are no angels,” the snail said. “Angels are such a human conception. I mean, can you imagine someone who looks like an ordinary human but with wings being able to be a soldier of heaven?”
“I can’t imagine anyone being a soldier of heaven,” I said. “The man in the waiting room said there was no such thing.”
“You humans are all alike,” the snail said. “So someone says one thing, and you instantly believe anything they say. He says there’s no heaven, but I can tell you there is one.”
“How can you tell me that?”
“Quite easily,” the snail said. “I’m lying. The guardian was right, there is no heaven. But there are angels, young man, you just haven’t met any yet. But don’t worry, they’re out there.”
“Which way’s out there?” I asked.
“They’re everywhere,” the snail said. “The angels have walked every inch of this realm without fear. The sign’s a joke someone put up here a few years ago. I’ve been watching you for the last two hours pondering it like an idiot.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“Oh hell no, darling. I thought it was funny. So where are you headed?”
“I’m trying to find someone who can tell me how to make it back to Earth as a ghost,” I said.
“Someone down there has started a war that I intend to stop.”
“Tell me darling, was the war he started a big one?”
“Yeah, one of the biggest we’ve had in decades.”
“Then I’m afraid there’s not much you can do,” the snail said. “I know someone who knows someone that might be able to help you a little, but it’s going to cost you, and even then they might say no anyway. You really sure you want to do this, darling?”
“Very sure,” I said. “I won’t be able to live with myself out here if I don’t do this thing.”
“Very well,” said the snail abruptly. “You need to go down the valley, right to the end, and you want to talk to a blue crab. It’ll be next to a blue waffle. She’ll be able to tell you where to go from there, darling.”
“And what do I tell the blue crab? What do I tell them to get them to talk to me? Who do I tell them sent me?”
“Tell them Ray sent you. She’ll know who I am; she’s owed me favours for several centuries now.”
I nodded. “Alright,” I said. “Thanks, Ray.”
“Oh no, my name’s not Ray,” the snail said. “The guardian you met at the waiting room is Ray. But the blue crab thinks my name’s Ray and I’ve never bothered to correct her.”
“So what is your name?”
“I’m the trickster,” the snail said. “I don’t need a name.”
The snail disappeared, and then I walked into the valley.
This valley goes down the centre of the region that the guardian in the waiting room referred to as the Valley of Shadows. I suppose after it leaves the mountains, it become more of a canyon than anything else, however the map outside the hallway marked both the valley and the connecting canyon as the true Valley of Shadows, so I guess for all intents and purposes the people of the region considered them to be one and the same.
This is all going by a single map that was directly outside the hallway that I’d walked down after leaving the waiting room. And it was a detailed map—it was far more detailed than any map of its size I’d seen before, though I’d seen many maps that detailed since then. It was the first of its kind in my mind, though I’m not sure how accurate an assessment that is.
But thing is, when I was staring at it, it was like the rest of the world didn’t really exist. It was like a dream to me, and a dream was all I really wanted. In a lot of ways, the entire afterlife was like that—a surreal dream that there was no escape from. Not all of it was bad, of course, it’s just that for the most part, it was incredibly frightening because I wasn’t used to it.
During those first few days in the afterlife, it was only my desire to get back to the living world that kept me going. I wandered down the path to the true Valley of Shadows by myself because there was nobody around to keep me company, and it was during this walk that I saw some of the strangest things that I’d ever seen.
I saw trees growing from the clouds, their roots intertwined with the clouds and reaching out almost as if they were going to take hold of the sun. But there wasn’t just one sun here, there were six, and the sky wasn’t blue, it was more of a purple. The suns would all set at around six pm, and they’d rise twelve hours later.
The afterlife was a strange place. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Even though the trees were connected to the clouds, they still cast down shadows while the clouds didn’t. The grass grew a shade of orange.
When it rained, it wasn’t like rain in the world of the living; it was like a waterfall from the clouds to the ground, with the branches of the trees acting like rocks that shaped the falls. It was spectacular.
But eventually I found myself at the point where the two halves of the true Valley of Shadows met. I stood there for a moment, pondering the two paths. There was a sign there that said, “Fear is the enemy, the only enemy. Tread where you think angels may fear to tread and soldier on.”
I sat down for a while, pondering this. It was only then that I realised that I hadn’t eaten in the three or four days since I died, and it was only then that I realised that I probably wouldn’t ever need to eat ever again. So I passed the time for a while just sitting there until a snail found its way over the rock next to me.
“You’ve come to the right neighbourhood, friend,” the snail said.
“Hi, I’m Mister Smith,” I said. “I’m looking for the road on which angels fear to tread.”
“Why darling, there are no angels,” the snail said. “Angels are such a human conception. I mean, can you imagine someone who looks like an ordinary human but with wings being able to be a soldier of heaven?”
“I can’t imagine anyone being a soldier of heaven,” I said. “The man in the waiting room said there was no such thing.”
“You humans are all alike,” the snail said. “So someone says one thing, and you instantly believe anything they say. He says there’s no heaven, but I can tell you there is one.”
“How can you tell me that?”
“Quite easily,” the snail said. “I’m lying. The guardian was right, there is no heaven. But there are angels, young man, you just haven’t met any yet. But don’t worry, they’re out there.”
“Which way’s out there?” I asked.
“They’re everywhere,” the snail said. “The angels have walked every inch of this realm without fear. The sign’s a joke someone put up here a few years ago. I’ve been watching you for the last two hours pondering it like an idiot.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“Oh hell no, darling. I thought it was funny. So where are you headed?”
“I’m trying to find someone who can tell me how to make it back to Earth as a ghost,” I said.
“Someone down there has started a war that I intend to stop.”
“Tell me darling, was the war he started a big one?”
“Yeah, one of the biggest we’ve had in decades.”
“Then I’m afraid there’s not much you can do,” the snail said. “I know someone who knows someone that might be able to help you a little, but it’s going to cost you, and even then they might say no anyway. You really sure you want to do this, darling?”
“Very sure,” I said. “I won’t be able to live with myself out here if I don’t do this thing.”
“Very well,” said the snail abruptly. “You need to go down the valley, right to the end, and you want to talk to a blue crab. It’ll be next to a blue waffle. She’ll be able to tell you where to go from there, darling.”
“And what do I tell the blue crab? What do I tell them to get them to talk to me? Who do I tell them sent me?”
“Tell them Ray sent you. She’ll know who I am; she’s owed me favours for several centuries now.”
I nodded. “Alright,” I said. “Thanks, Ray.”
“Oh no, my name’s not Ray,” the snail said. “The guardian you met at the waiting room is Ray. But the blue crab thinks my name’s Ray and I’ve never bothered to correct her.”
“So what is your name?”
“I’m the trickster,” the snail said. “I don’t need a name.”
The snail disappeared, and then I walked into the valley.