No friendly moon was there to light this unfamiliar path; only a pitch-black night, so dark and foreboding that I could not see my hand in front of my face. Even Conqueror's sharp eyes soon lost the trail, forcing me to dismount and wrestle through heavy, wet vines, and walk on tangled roots and rocks in my bare feet; but I fought on.

My life was shattered. I turned my back on the only world I knew when I relinquished my sword and took on the garb of a common beggar. My father was gone, I had given up my kingdom and all of my possessions, and I found myself lost and alone. I could have gone back, it wasn't too late. But soon it would be when the power-vacuum that I created began to flood with ambitious men, then I would become a threat to whomever had an eye on my throne. But "going back," and "retreat" were not words that this warrior had ever understood.

At least in battle I had control, but that control now slipped away, as I really faced myself for the first time. I had no idea where to go or what would be my fate; all I knew was that something was telling me to live in the forest and look inward for the key, but I was uncertain how to do either.

My father's death impacted me much greater than I had expected, to such a degree that an irreversible transformation was taking place deep inside of me, and it was quickly deepening. Perhaps it took that kind of a shock; a father's death, to shatter youthful illusions of life's exuberance and excitement. And now, because of that shock, troubling and seemingly unanswerable questions plagued me, questions that only a few days ago seemed irrelevant; a few days ago when I was still able to escape into my fantasies.

When I was a child growing up, I knew well the secretive high priests of the court. They indoctrinated my young, impressionable mind with ideas from their books, and they assured me that if I would only believe what they said and follow their guarded instructions; I would someday live with my creator in heaven forever. But I always wondered, behind their backs, what or who my creator was, and speculated that perhaps the priest's ideas were more in the realm of children's fairy tales, tiptoeing around serious answers with a secretiveness that only enhanced their power and relevance in the court. Why not come face to face with my creator right now, before I died? They never taught me how to do that! And anyway, what would a king do in heaven for eternity?

I was determined to find some real answers to my many questions. If heaven was merely a tool in the clever hands of these manipulative priests to control my behavior and enhance their power, and there really was no after-life, then I suppose when I was gone . . . I was gone! But there remained a problem; where I was before I was born? What was I before I was born? Was I a "nothing," something that materialized by accident to experience a very brief existence, before again returning to "nothing" for eternity? I could not even imagine eternity! Would I then spend forever in a deep sleep that would pass like a dreamless night; quickly and without consciousness where I would close my eyes one moment and greet the dawn the next? That idea was comforting, except for the fact, of course, that dawn would never come!

Perhaps the discontentment that incessantly crept into my mind required consciousness and memory. I would not have to worry about those two things in a deep sleep; and who could devise a hell so perfect without them?

Would I ever truly understand? Would my sincerest questions ever be answered? I had been on the earth for thirty-two years now, and for some reason found myself thirsting for knowledge.

We fought through the snarled undergrowth for weeks, lost in an endless forest and barely surviving on an occasional mango or banana and the little water we could find in puddles here and there. One evening, just as the forest was in the midst of its nocturnal serenade, I settled down amongst the uneven bed of twisted vines to get some rest, trusting that the soothing, rhythmic cadence of the locusts and sounds of the creatures hunting and hiding in the tanglements would soon lull me to sleep.

It was barely past dusk; that time of day when the forest slowly surrenders its colors and the outlines of the trees become blurred in the fading light, when Conqueror whinnied and stared up at the sky. I followed the horse's eyes and was surprised to see an intense point of light darting back and forth in the upper branches of the trees as if signaling us to follow. This strange, intelligent, firefly-like light was so mesmerizing and enchanting that I fought through the underbrush to see what it was and where it was leading us.

Its brilliance slowly increased, taking on a powerful green hue as we broke out of the underbrush and found ourselves in a beautiful meadow, the first open area we had encountered since entering the forest. Like a huge, glowing lantern, the light slowly descended, while I just stood there gawking with my mouth wide open.

Suddenly, the ball of light flitted toward us and landed on a rock next to where we were standing, growing increasingly brighter until I was forced to shield my one good eye for a moment. What happened next was unbelievable; the brilliant light transformed itself into a stunning, small female being with an extremely luminescent, transparent quality about her.

She was only three feet tall, a nymph, with delicate hands and feet, and wearing a stunning blue robe that was emitting powerful, bluish-green streams of light. Her eyes were large, twice normal size, and were mysteriously dark and piercing. I felt as if they were looking straight into my heart.

This illogical, apparent apparition understandably entranced me, and the intrigue only intensified when she began talking without moving her lips, with her voice mystically appearing in my mind.

"Do not be frightened," her words flashed in my head. "I have always been with you. I was at your side when you mother died. Later, we played together many times. You could see me then because your mind was unobstructed, not yet smothered by worldly illusions. When you were older, daring yourself to walk the thin ledge at the top of the castle, I was the one that kept you from falling. And when you grew into a young man, I was with you on the battlefields protecting you from mortal wounds.

"You can see me now because your mind is once again open, like that of a small child, a result of your forsaking the pleasures of the world in order to seek the key. Only when your mind is clear, as it is now, will I be visible. Whether or not you see me, however, I will always be with you. But remember; do not rely on me. My assistance will come when your best efforts are exhausted and you are forsaken; only then will I be there. I am your helper being, my name is Ariya."

Unexpectedly, I had a flashback of walking the high ledge of the castle and something telling me to be careful just as I almost stepped on a loose section of the wall, which would have most certainly been my early demise.

Then she stopped "talking" and just stood there, staring at me with those incredibly piercing eyes.

"Am I dreaming," I asked.

"No, my king, you are starting to come out of your dream. The great warrior you have been is nothing compared to the warrior that you must become if you truly seek the key. This is a new and completely different battle that must be fought, and it must be fought wisely as a tree bends with the wind. The weapons you have relied upon in the past, your swords and knives; they are now useless. The key is deep inside, guarded by a great dragon, the terrifying Dragon of Atta. This fearsome being keeps the key hidden securely in his den, laughing at the power of the world, for the world and all its weapons cannot touch him."

Now I was truly lost. The only weapons I could count on were my mighty sword and crossbow. What other weapons could be powerful enough to slay a dragon?

"I guess I will need some help," I said, "I am confused. All I know is that something is driving me."

"Yes," she replied, "something beyond yourself is pushing you to develop The Three Great Weapons of the Spirit. If you ever expect to face this ferocious dragon someday, you must become skilled with these weapons. Exceptional masters will train you in proficiency with each weapon, but you must follow their teachings precisely, mastering one weapon at a time before going on to the next. Dreadful results will be your fate if you take short cuts."

What in the world was she talking about . . . spirit and masters? This made no sense at all.

"I'm sorry, you have lost me," I said, shaking my head.

Her expression turned serious, "I want you to remember one thing; there will be intuitive urges that nudge you in directions that your logical mind will laugh at. You must learn how to detect these intuitive urges so that you can follow them, for they will take you to silent, powerful areas in your heart, areas that you must reach if you ever hope to fight this most powerful of all dragons. These subtle urges will be heard as small, silent voices, so quiet and unassuming in many ways, but emotionally commanding in others. And they must be pursued regardless of risk. They are very delicate, these tiny voices, and can be easily overruled by your strong logic and common sense, so be very discerning when deciding which voice to obey. I can only encourage you to always follow the subtle urges in your heart, for everything worthwhile comes from there."

I was confused. "You don't explain things very well," I said, "I agree that it must have been that small voice that led me into the forest, and it certainly would have to be powerful to do that, but I don't know what to do now. I know nothing about the forest."

She smiled, with those stunning and irresistible eyes, so piercing that they pained my heart, and said, "You need no knowledge for this unusual quest, and soon you will discover that knowledge and learning will actually hinder you. Simply allow your heart to lead, not your head, and then let everything else fall away. Never fear the consequences.

"Keep these things that I have just said in mind for the long journey ahead, for if you follow your heart, you will surely find the key."

Suddenly, her form began shrinking back into a point of light.

"Wait," I cried out, "Wait," but it was too late; the point of light was rising into the treetops. I stared after her in amazement unsure of what I had just witnessed, but one thing I was certain of; I wasn't dreaming, because Conqueror watched her large eyes as intently as I did during the entire encounter. ( To be continued)

E. Raymond Rock of Fort Myers, Florida is cofounder and principal teacher at the Southwest Florida Insight Center, http://www.SouthwestFloridaInsightCenter.com His twenty-nine years of meditation experience has taken him across four continents, including two stopovers in Thailand where he practiced in the remote northeast forests as an ordained Theravada Buddhist monk. His book, A Year to Enlightenment (Career Press/New Page Books) is now available at major bookstores and online retailers. Visit http://www.AYearToEnlightenment.com