ˆThe Rider (continued)

It was late afternoon and twilight hinted at its emergence in the forest. As he journeyed through a steep valley Death and the Devil emerged from the forest to keep him company. The knight rode on, ignoring their presence at his side.

The figure of Death raised his large hourglass. “Time is running out,” he gloated, “You’re not going to make it.”

The Devil grinned.

There was a fork in the road and the knight paused momentarily before taking the right road. As twilight advanced he emerged from the wooded valley and looked up at the shining citadel that guarded the city. There, he would be welcomed before nightfall. There would be rest, drink, and music.

Behind him, the Devil cackled, bringing his attention back to the rocky path. As he rounded a large tree he saw before him an expansive abyss. Once there had been a bridge but now there stood only crumbling remains jutting outward into nothingness. He rode his horse to the edge looking in vain for a road down into the gathering darkness. Down there he could already see forms writhing at the edge of his vision.

The knight thought briefly about returning to the fork in the road but as he turned his horse Death held the hourglass aloft and smiled a toothless smile. He looked up once more and saw night pass over the city, descending like a wild black stallion down the bleak hills beneath it. The knight dismounted and disappeared into the trees. Here, he would make his home. The forest welcomed him with tangled roots.

The Rider, or Knight, Death and the Devil, is a sixteenth century engraving by Albrecht Dürer. See it here.