Destiny and Volition

Men do not shape destiny, Destiny produces the man for the hour

Fidel Castro

It is in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped

Tony Robbins

. . .

At least thirty people were queuing between the trees as the light playfully dappled among them. The doors were busy this year. With his dusty top hat and tails, long grey beard, and twisted wooden walking stick the hunched man hobbled towards Christophe and Lavender. They stifled their smiles and offered him nothing but respect. He spoke to everyone in the queue in turn, answering their questions in his gruff, throaty voice then tipping his hat before he approached the next in line. They were next in line.

‘Now you two,’ he looked up at their faces, ‘what brings you here today?’

‘Good day Sir.’ Christophe said, ‘My sister and I are here because our lives are in a rut. Every day is the same and we have nothing to look forward to.’

Lavender nodded her agreement.

‘We spend our time working the farm and training for a fight that never comes. Our family need money for repairs and livestock. Our lives need adventure and challenge.’

‘Interesting,’ the man rubbed his bearded chin and leaned on his stick, ‘so you imagine that one of these doors will give you the adventure and challenge you crave? Perhaps bring you money to help your family?’

‘I’ve always felt that my future was to conquer the savage dragon in the southern caves, take his gold and share the spoils with my ageing parents.’ Christophe indicated the sword at his hip and the slingshot in his breast pocket. ‘It’s what I’ve spent my youth training for. But I have no horse to ride to the south.’

Lavender nodded and then spoke her own mind, holding her bow at her side and checking her sword. ‘I dream of slaying the murderous griffin that prowls our northern villages at night, claiming the reward from the elders and handing half of the prize to my family. But despite my nightly excursions the griffin eludes me.’

‘Looking for a fight?’ the old man’s eyes glinted in the morning light and he raised a weak smile. ‘You understand that I cannot tell you what awaits on the other side of the doors?’

‘We understand.’ They said in unison.

‘You understand that the journey is different for everyone?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘You understand that once you enter there is only one way out? And you must find it yourselves?’

‘We do.’

‘And you know that after your journey you must never speak of it to anyone? Anyone except me and each other?’

‘Of course, we shall take it to our graves.’

‘Very good, have you decided which door to go through?’

‘Not yet, Sir. We wonder if it matters. Either way we expect adventure.’ Lavender said.

‘In all my years as Keeper of the Doors I have never met anyone who thought their choice did not matter. And here there are two of you. But perhaps, just perhaps, you are right.’

‘Have you ever entered the doors, Sir? Been through them yourself?’

‘Oh yes. It’s how I got this job.’

This man must have had many adventures. Christophe and Lavender’s minds were brimming with questions, but before a single one could leave their lips the elderly gentleman tipped his hat and stepped past them to the next person in line. The brother and sister were nearly at the front of the queue.

After only a few moments the short blonde woman ahead of them disappeared behind the ragged curtain strung between two birches, and they were next. It must have been quick for her to decide as they hardly had time to think before a dwarf appeared from behind the tatty fabric and beckoned Christophe and Lavender through with one finger.

They followed him through the scruffy gap in the curtain. Two large oaks stood before them, a carpet of bluebells beneath. Each grand tree had a full sized door in its trunk. The oak to the right proudly displayed a large red door, boasting a highly polished golden handle and hinges, and a shining gold plaque marked ‘Destiny’.

To the left its sister tree, just as tall and imposing, exhibited a big blue door, boasting a highly polished silver handle and hinges, and a shining silver plaque marked ‘Volition’.

‘Hullo there.’ said the dwarf, ‘which door will you choose today?’

Until this point Christophe and Lavender had been convinced that whatever they did would improve their situation. But, finally faced with the decision to make, they faltered. What if it did matter? What if it was vital? There were rumours that some people never came back in spite of the Keeper's best efforts to find them.

‘Destiny!’ Christophe said ‘definitely Destiny.’

And in the same moment Lavender declared ‘Volition! I choose Volition.’

The brother and sister stared at each other. They frowned, they had assumed they would journey together, fighting side by side. But once they had spoken they could not go back on their word, those were the rules.

The dwarf reached into the pocket of his rough green trousers and withdrew two shiny keys, one gold and one silver. 

‘Ready Sir?’ he asked Christophe.

‘Yes. Yes I am.’

The dwarf unlocked the red door and it swung open, into the trunk of the tree. Christophe hugged Lavender and they wished each other luck, before he stepped through the door into the unknown and the dwarf closed and locked it behind him.

‘Ready Miss?’

‘Yes. Please open the door.’

He did so and Lavender stepped through into the trunk of her chosen oak.

. . .

Lavender found herself back in her northern village, she shivered as she pulled her cloak around her and strained to see in the dark. Knowing this was Volition she drew an arrow from her quiver and readied herself to fire.

Christophe found himself at the mouth of a cave in the south of the country. He blinked in the daylight but the cave ahead looked dark. Knowing this was Destiny he drew his slingshot from his pocket and prepared himself to fire.

Lavender kept to the edges of buildings, listening hard, ready for action. Before long she heard the roar of the griffin, the griffin that had taken her aunt last year, the griffin that held the north to ransom.

Christophe hid between the bushes near the cave mouth straining his ears and prepared for action. Very soon he could hear the roar of the dragon, the dragon that had taken his cousin, the dragon that kept the south in fear.

Lavender followed the sound around a corner and, keeping low in the shadows, made her cautious approach. The griffin wasn’t far away.

Christophe followed the sound into the caves and, keeping low to the ground, advanced with care. The dragon was close.

Lavender could make out, by the starlight, the silhouette of the enormous griffin, facing away from her, head down, tail whipping the air. This was her chance.

Christophe could just see, by the torches on the cave walls, the outline of the enormous dragon, its back towards him, head low, tail flicking above the ground. This was his opportunity.

Lavender lifted her bow. Her best chance was to shoot for the griffin’s eyes but she was standing behind it.

Christophe raised his slingshot. His best chance was to aim for the dragon’s eyes but he was approaching from behind.

Lavender picked up a rock from the ground and threw it against the wall opposite herself and behind the griffin. It clattered against the brick and startled the monster, who spun round to face the direction of the sound.

Christophe chose a rock from the ground and hurled it against the cave wall facing him and to the rear of the dragon. It clanged against the stone and unsettled the beast, who circled to face the direction of the noise.

Lavender saw her chance and took aim, it was difficult in the semi darkness but she was an excellent shot and the griffin’s eyes glowed red helping her see her target.

Christophe realised his luck and lined up his slingshot, it was awkward with so little light but he was an expert and the dragon’s fiery breath helped him see his mark.

Lavender released an arrow, but the griffin dropped its head and she missed by a whisper. The monster sniffed the ground and caught her scent, turning towards her, breathing in the aroma of its next intended meal.

Christophe fired a rock, but the dragon dropped its head and the rock glanced off. The beast inhaled deeply and caught his odour, rounding on him, tracking the smell of its next intended victim.

Lavender’s reaction was immediate, she drew another arrow and fired again. This time she hit the griffin directly in its left eye, it shrieked in pain before grunting and lunging at her.

Christophe sprang into action, he selected a third rock and launched it. This time he caught the dragon straight in its left eye, it cried out in pain before huffing and diving towards him.

Lavender ducked and rolled along the floor, as the griffin growled over her head. She stopped her movement directly below the monster’s throat. She lay on her back and drew her sword, cutting the griffin right through the artery throbbing in its neck. As the roaring creature fought to keep its balance she thrust the weapon again, slicing deeper into the feathered flesh.

Christophe dropped and tumbled along the floor, as the dragon roared above him. He came to a halt immediately below the beast’s throat. Lying on his back he pulled out his sword, cutting the dragon straight through the artery pulsing in its neck. As the snarling creature fought to stay on its feet he plunged the blade again, stabbing deeper into the scaled skin.

Blood gushed from the griffin’s wound and Lavender was soaked by hot crimson rain. The monster groaned and collapsed, breath laboured, limbs twitching. Lavender stood up and watched in awe as the creature’s feathered chest expanded for the final time.

Blood flowed from the dragon’s wound and Christophe was covered in a warm fountain of red. The beast moaned and fell, breathing shallow, legs trembling. Christophe got up and watched, dumb struck, as the creature took its very last breath.

Lavender pulled a feather from the head of the griffin and stashed it in her leather pouch. It was all she required to prove her victory and claim her prize. Now she needed to find her way out of this place.

Christophe took handfuls of gold from beneath the dragon and hid them in his leather pouch. It was all he needed to prove his victory and would also be his prize. Now he had to find his way home.

Lavender turned to look back onto the street she had come from but in its place was a forest clearing with two enormous oak trees. One had a red door with gold fittings and was marked ‘Destiny’. The other had a blue door with silver fittings and was marked ‘Volition’.

Christophe turned to look back at the cave mouth but in its place was a forest clearing with two enormous oak trees. One had a red door with gold fittings and was marked ‘Destiny’. The other had a blue door with silver fittings and was marked ‘Volition’.

Lavender and Christophe had not been expecting to have to make another choice. They had been told there was only one way out, but were now presented with two. They both thought for some time, wondering if it mattered which one they chose or if the two doors were actually one, leading to the same place.

Lavender eventually came to a decision, if the blue door, Volition, had first led her to the griffin it might do that again. She did not want to repeat her recent experience. So she chose Destiny.

At the same moment Christophe made up his mind. If the red door, Destiny, had first led him to the dragon it might do that again. He did not want to repeat his recent experience. So he chose Volition.

Christophe and Lavender stepped through their chosen doors at the exact same moment and came face with each other on the empty stable yard of their family farm. They hugged and exchanged huge grins as they met and then they both checked their leather pouches. Christophe still had his gold and Lavender still had her feather. Possession of these objects was all they needed to show each other what had happened when they had gone through their original doors. They danced with joy in the knowledge that the farm would be saved and both the northern and southern territories would be free from their oppressors.

Within a few days Lavender had claimed her reward from the elders, being careful not to mention the role the doors had played in her adventure, and handed all of the money to her parents. Christophe said nothing about the dragon to anyone but it was soon discovered to be dead and the southern territories rejoiced. He gave Lavender half of his gold and they went to visit the Keeper of the Doors.

‘Ah, I know you!’ exclaimed the wizened old man, propping himself up on his trusty stick. ‘How were your journeys?’

Lavender and Christophe explained in detail how they had each passed through separate doors but mirrored each other’s experiences almost exactly. And then told of how they had chosen different pathways out and both had led them home.

‘It’s so confusing! How could Destiny and Volition lead to the same place?’ asked Lavender of the old man. ‘Does this mean that none of our actions make any difference? That everything is already decided for us? Does our destiny shape every decision we make?’

‘You might ask that.’ replied the Keeper of the Doors, ‘or you might ask whether every decision you make shapes your destiny. Tell me, how did you come to be at the doors to begin with?’

Christophe and Lavender stared at the man for some time, shaken to the core and deep in thought. Eventually, in unison, they both posed the same question to him.

‘Does it matter which is true? Destiny or Volition?’

‘Now that is a question worth asking!’ he replied with a beaming smile. ‘I am an old man, my dear brother died some years ago and left me to guard the doors alone. The time is coming for me to retire, and I may have just found my replacements. Of course, the decision is yours to make... If that's what you believe.’