The Chosen Path—A Fable About Brotherhood

Late one night, The Brotherhood of Man stood on the Highlands of Tolerance. His gaze was far; indeed, he was contemplating the centuries when he heard a noise. Looking down, he saw a dark and lonely figure muttering and stumbling on the road below—the Road to Perdition.

A moonlit road
Photo by Krivosheev Vitaly/

Brotherhood moved quickly. Soon, he stood in the middle of the road, face to face with the Dark Soul of Bigotry.

“Come, brother Bigotry. Walk with me a while, and let us converse. There is a detour ahead.” Brotherhood pointed to a sign that read “The Way to Happiness” and which indicated a small path that wound uphill, back towards the Highlands of Tolerance. “Brother Learning lives but a short distance up that path. Let us join him and make three. He is an expert on this hellish road you travel, and would teach us its history, and the history of those who’ve gone before.”

“I require no man’s counsel,” said Bigotry, brushing aside Brotherhood’s hand. “My destiny awaits, and I dare not tarry. Your kind would only slow me down.”

“Be not of haste,” said Brotherhood. “It is not the speed of our travels but the folk who accompany us that is the measure of our lives.”

“Many are my brethren who await me on this road. It is their company I crave. Now step aside.”

The Dark Soul of Bigotry turned and marched down the road.

The Brotherhood of Man looked after him and sighed. “No false traveler are you. This is indeed your chosen path.”


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