The wind tore at his jacket and sent his hat fluttering further into the storm. The rain lashed at his scarred face, soaking him so thoroughly he could hardly move under the weight of his dripping garments. It seemed he had been staggering blindly for hours with no sign of shelter. Why hadn’t he stayed in town? There had been a beautiful tavern with reasonable prices, and he could have been sitting in front of a fire in a cozy little room with warm food, instead of freezing to death in merciless gale force winds and thrashing rain. He knew why he’d left. Though he didn’t like to admit it, the old peddler at the tavern had given him the chills. He shuddered. He couldn’t let that man get to him! Suddenly, he could no longer feel the slick clay under his feet, and before he knew it his face stung from the impact of his cheek against the pavement. He reached up to find himself grasping a post. He pulled himself up, and after a bit of shuffling around, he managed to locate some stairs.
Eventually, he found the door to whatever it was, and entered to find himself in the large entryway of an old house. The floorboards moaned as he walked. It was dark and quite obvious that no one had lived in the house in many years. Then he remembered the candle. He had entered the tavern back at the town. It had been fairly pleasant aside from the heap of rags on the chair, which sat in the far corner of the front room. As it turned out the rags were not rags at all, but a wrinkled old peddler. He had approached the peddler with caution and found him to be asleep. Then suddenly the peddler jerked awake and stared up at him. Though he had been slightly taken aback by the sudden movement, he said to the old man, “What have you to sell to me peddler?” At that the peddler pulled from his cloak a small half melted candle and said, “This candle reveals the riches of your future.” Though he didn’t believe him he figured a candle would be of some use on his travels and accepted it in exchange for a few brass coins. Just as he was about to put the candle in his sack, the peddler grasped his hand tightly in his shaking hands and said to him in a wary voice, “Magic is not all good; beware.” He then snatched his hand away, walked briskly out the door, and began the trek that had led him here.
He pulled the candle from his bag, and using a match he had found in his pocket, lit it. Suddenly the dust that had covered everything began to swirl in a cyclone around him. His vision blurred and a scene began to play out in front of him. He was looking out at a small dirt path surrounded by trees, flowers, and birds. It was all very serene. Then, suddenly the loud pounding of horse hooves disturbed the peace and onto the road came a large and extravagant stagecoach pulled by six mighty steeds. The coach came to a halt and out came the owner who was clothed in the finest of silks. Only after a closer look did he realize the fine noble man of the scene was he. It was all too amazing! Had the peddler been telling the truth? Could you really see the future? As more and more fabulous scenes of the future unfurled in front of him the traveler became more and more absorbed in what he was seeing. He became so interested he didn’t notice as his skin began to sag with age just as it did in the scenes. Nor did he realize why his mind suddenly became cloudy and his hair gray. Sadly, he also failed to notice that as he neared his death in the scenes, the candle went out in a gust of wind and he dropped to the floor, dead.

The traveler paid a great price for being right. The candle showed not the future, but distracted you with illusions as it sucked away your life.