Explorers will push themselves to extreme measures to find what it is they are looking for. Most of them fail. I, in fact, did not find myself in a failing situation, although, some will say that I did. Furthermore, the strangeness of my discovery was utterly amazing for me, considering the fact that I had not done any sort of exploration in my life, other than my own, curious heart. Some may even think me a liar, but everything that happened that day at the heart of the mountain was very much unexpected, but definitely not unintended.
I have always been an extreme believer in Music, and its capacity for power. Music is something I will continually love and strive to understand more. That is not what I was searching for that day. Then again, how can I say that? I’m still not entirely sure what I was trying to find in those dark, slimy caverns (Perhaps hidden treasure. Perhaps ancient artifacts), nor do I care.
I didn’t care at the time, either. I seemed full of abnormal stamina and determination to get to some secret room that had never been discovered. My mind had no clue what was going on, but my heart understood entirely. I had to trust it. I don’t remember how I managed getting to the center of the mountain, but when I finally did, I was thunderstruck. My legs swept me through a long hallway of stone that dripped slime from the ceiling, and it carried a rancid odor. In the clearing I noticed a glowing light. When I reached it, I realized I had found a small room.
Of course, everything was made out of rock in this room, but it was noticeably different than the rest of the mountain. It had an inviting quality and a soothing essence. To my right there was a quiet stream that flowed in the direction of which I entered. I was never able to find the source of the light, but its existence seemed to emanate with the water. There was enough light to subtly illuminate the rest of the room. To the left I found a wall of stone that jutted out from the rest of the cavernous rock.
What happened next was unfathomable. A subtle light took form at the top of the stone wall. A strong sense of Music filled the air and cradled me in its arms. At first it seemed peaceful, but as I crept closer, the light felt eerie, and the Musical sense disturbing.
I don’t know how I knew that what I was experiencing was the Spirit of Music, I just knew; my sixth sense had awakened to its highest potential.
I crept closer to the light (and spirit) that any other person would want to avoid, but I couldn’t deny Music’s embrace.
Then it spoke. It spoke in my mind, and it spoke to my spirit. It had a soft resonance that was both threatening and seraphic. It didn’t always use its voice to speak. I could feel that it was saying something, but it didn’t use words. My heart knew that it said, “I am the Angel of Music.”
Angel or Demon?, I thought. Its only response was the same as before.
Its voice grew louder, and the air colder. My spirit discerned a dark presence, and I knew that the dark presence was coming from the Music.
I could have cared less. This experience and opportunity was beyond anything (imagined or not) that I, or any human, could ever conceive. The voice grew angry, but raised my curiosity. It is unfathomable to think that, while in the very presence of Music, it would use its voice to speak to me; to try and tell me what it was, and to reach out and touch me.
I felt that the Music was hiding from me, as if it couldn’t show itself to me in its full, because it was either cocky, or because I would not be able to withstand its might. I suspected the latter. Concluding that it was hiding, I felt that it was doing so on the other side of the jutting wall. I started for that area, but was stopped by Music’s anger. It spoke words that I couldn’t fully understand. Words that warned me to stay away. A thick wind encircled me, which didn’t seem to do any purposeful harm; rather, it was a further warning. Though, I know not the reason.
Still, I resisted. I kept my feet moving and my eyes open. Knowing that Music was using itself against me filled me life, and made me all the more curious. It continued its firm warnings and I continued to resist, but this time I tried to speak back. With my spirit, my mind, and with my voice. I fussed a lot about how I didn’t want to leave and how I just wanted to see it. This only angered Music all the more.
This experience proved to me that Music won’t always take a form that fits ones preference. A strange and painful feeling filled my body like electricity and fried me to the core. I didn’t like it that Music was taking me for an enemy, but I guess, in a way, I was asking for it. It was too late, though; I had passed the point of no return.
Stormy songs, serenades, and fanfares filled my spirit and resonated throughout my body like a bouncy ball ricocheting through a narrow hallway. I covered my ears, but that was very futile, for the Music didn’t need to use sound to get to my heart. Music raised its voice and warned me to leave one last time, and one last time I resisted. I told it harshly that I wasn’t going to leave. That was a bad idea.
The most abrupt and thunderous sound I had ever heard crashed through my ears and nearly imploded the earth around me. Music had used its voice and shouted something to a caliber beyond measurable. It had shouted something like, “DEAL WITH IT!” or “TOO BAD!” The words themselves sound very puerile for Music to say, but it was nothing of that sort.
Right as it was shouting its thunder, my body seemed to be placed right in front of the other side of the marble wall; right in front of what I was trying to find. What I found was nothing extraordinary, and very confusing. All that I saw was what looked like a design etched into the wall made out of wrought iron with green and tan as the colors. The designs meant nothing to me, but within the designs I may have seen a face. Either way, what I saw I saw for briefer than a second. Then I collapsed and everything went black.
When I awoke I was in my front yard. My mother was in the driveway and didn’t seem to realize that I had been absent. She simply said, “Hi.”
I quickly noticed that a quiet stream was running through our flowerbed that had not been there before. It had no source; its mouth protruded from the soil. An existence of light seemed to emanate within the water. It tempted me to drink it, but I dared not touch it. It was obvious that my mother had not been aware of the conspicuous new water source flowing through our yard. I grinned. Music had, seemingly, giving me a reminder of my experience. It was deceiving, ruthless, and it retained a sense of sentimentality.
These experiences reminded me of a stanza of lyrics from The Music of the Night. It said, “Feeling is believing, Music is deceiving.”
The Spirit (or “Angel”) of Music in the mountain had deceived me in various ways. Whether for goodness or badness, evil or holiness, dramatic effect or simply for comic relief, the answer remains unknown. Being disgusted with or being fearful of my recent experience with Music is not the proper attitude that I intend to acquire. Music manifested itself in an unusual form that is still beyond my comprehension, and it reached out to me in a way that some may call “odd”, “dark”, or maybe even “scary”. Either way, this experience I respect much and hold with the hihest regard. My understanding and love for Music will strengthen because of it. I realize now that my heart was searching for hidden treasure. And that, in fact, is exactly what I found. I conclude pondering these things with an open mind, waiting for the next, discernable, manifestation of Music.