The Fallen Stone

Chapter 1

The Fall

The dawn of a new day filled the morning sky, and a towering mountain known throughout the region as “Peak” smiled as he surveyed the vast terrain that lay at his majestic feet. It was that time of year when the earth was slowly turning to a gentler season, forcing winter to relinquish its icy grip. To celebrate this event, springtime dressed herself in yellow and purple wildflowers and danced across the hillsides to the music of singing birds and lovesick foxes. What a glorious day, Peak thought as he took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the crisp morning air. Peak was happy and secure in his position. It was very peaceful looking out over the vast valley, especially from such a place of prominence. Yes, he felt very powerful indeed. After all, the sun could not be seen in the morning until it rose over his expansive summit. In the winter months, the snow did not fall in the valley, because Peak would catch it on his strong shoulders and hold it in his stony bosom until the early spring. Then, at the appointed time, the melting snow would be gently released into the thirsty riverbeds below. From time to time, eagles would attempt to fly upward to build a nest at the top of Peak’s lofty domain. Peak watched with amusement as one of the fearless birds struggled against the air currents that surrounded the top of the mountain like an invisible fortress. The violent winds gripped the great bird and howled with laughter as the challenger struggled to break free. In the end, the eagle spiraled downward to a place where the breeze blew gently against his battered wings. There were other challengers who put themselves to the test. The mountain goats with their strong bodies and sure footing also tried to reach Peak’s place of prominence and dominance. A few fearless goats had made their way to the higher grounds filled with dangerous pockets of bottomless snow and sheets of treacherous ice. But it always ended with a slip of the foot that sent the poor mountain goats plunging to a terrible end. There were many more attempts, but no one ever reached the very top of the mountain and lived to tell about it. Only the clouds above had the privilege of sharing the sky with the arrogant Peak. No matter how hard they tried, Peak made no alliance with the clouds and avoided their company as much as possible. This was because he knew their true nature. Behind their peaceful, smiling, and billowy faces, they could be treacherous and unpredictable. Sometimes, the clouds were filled with refreshing dew and rain. This was most appreciated during the long, hot, summer days. At other times, without warning, the clouds turned dark and angry, bringing furious rainstorms or blinding ice and snow. As if driven by a mysterious fit of rage, the ominous clouds sometimes spewed hailstones that exploded like missiles against the face of Peak. Without mercy, the icy stones beat against the mountain and then crashed and melted in the earth below. “We meant no harm,” the clouds would always apologize after the calm had been restored. “But when the freezing winds push and swirl us in every direction, we get all worked up and things get a little out of control.” In spite of the cloud’s feigned apologies, Peak knew too well that they lived and breathed to intimidate and dominate everything under the heavens. Even with the attacks of wind, rain, snow, and hail, Peak remained proud, strong, and silent, never showing any signs of weakness. He reigned over mountains, hills, and valleys below, declaring to both friends and foes, “I shall never be moved!” But as time passed, there came a difficult winter with its army of violent storms. The earth hid its face as the storms attack without mercy. “So this proud, arrogant mountaintop thinks he can’t be moved!” the storm clouds grumbled to one another as they beat against Peak with blizzards of hail, ice, rain, and snow. Peak scoffed. “Send your thunder and lightning! Send your hail and snow! I shall never be moved! I … and I alone rule the sky! And this too shall pass!” Little did Peak know that the deposits of icy rain had seeped deep into the cracks and crevices of his strong shoulders. When the water froze, it expanded, forcing the cracks to separate even more. He could feel the pain as the crevices grew deeper and deeper. Even though there was pain, Peak stood tall and strong in the face of the attacks and continued to declare, “I shall never be moved!” Still, the cracks grew deeper, the winds blow stronger, and the weight of the ice and snow grew heavier and heavier. On the outside, Peak remained strong and stoic, but deep inside, he knew that he was carrying much more than he was able to bear. One night, in the cold, still dead of winter, something that felt like devouring fangs gripped him. It was a force that seemed to rise from the depths of hell, looming larger than the mountain or the sky. Without mercy, it ripped into the heart of the mountain. Peak reeled and cried out in anguish. He desperately prayed for someone to wake him from this terrible nightmare. “Dear Lord, don’t allow my enemies to triumph over me,” he silently prayed. It seemed like an eternity as the pain and pressure continued their journey deep into the cracks and crevices of the terrified Peak. The God who created the mountains, the sky, the clouds, and the storm did not speak. Nor did He hold back the ice, rain, and snow, or come to Peak’s rescue. As the night wore on and the relentless blizzard continued, suddenly there was a stillness in the air. In that moment, what Peak thought could never ever happen happened. It seemed as if the whole earth was moving in slow motion as the top of Peak’s body broke into a giant splinter of rock and began to tumble downward. To the delight of the dark clouds and the shock of all creatures below, Peak tumbled down, down, down, and down again, hurling past the lower peaks that he had once looked down on with quiet arrogance. Past the nesting eagles that had never had the privilege of looking into the face of the great mountain peak. Past the sure-footed goats that ran for cover as the massive rock, with all of its debris, continued its swift descent from the top. Finally, what was left of Peak came to rest in the valley below, never to rise again.