Dear Reader, I would like to share this story with you;

It will take you on a seemingly endless journey.
A trip that takes you places I might have visited many moons ago.
It´s a tale that came back to me when I meditated on one of my past lives.

Click here to Start with Chapter 1

Chapter 8

The world is so much bigger than we can grasp Dear Reader.

Our eyes limit us constantly. Fear and Greed keep us moving in circles.

Our souls are like wild animals in captivity.

Bound by being socially acceptable, politically correct, and generally desirable.

Are you free Dear Reader, do you even dare to really release your soul for just one second?

Not remembering their names left a sour taste. I know that wisdom is often gained during periods of solitude and study. But it is also the duty of the teacher to inform those who do not know and to remain informed.

I hadn't counted any of these among my duties in recent months. I felt like an unworthy replacement for Master Oniko. My ego really got in my way too much to take the place of the master. Even during those last years that often chained him to his cabin, he knew better what was going on in the village than the gossiping ladies at the wash place.

When he was visited his listening skills were so good that he could pick up on layers the narrator did not know were in the message.

This way he remained aware of everything happening in the village. It enabled him to give advice that was not only for the benefit of those seeking help but which had a positive effect on many in the village in the longer term.

I arrived at my boulder and nestled among the tall reeds pondering on how I could ever be like that. The stone felt icy cold, but the sun already poured its first rays into the valley, so the temperature would soon rise.

The soothing sound of running water soon brought a pleasant vibration, helping me distance myself from the things that had occupied me for the past few moons. Lately, I had lost my balance and stared blindly at things that offered no relief.

I remembered a lesson from long ago: For those who are lost, there is only one right way. The road that leads to the top.
As soon as you rise above the tops of the trees, you will find the answer you were looking for.

I had been lost looking at the map for hours and not getting anywhere because I constantly placed myself at the center of the map.

After that little epiphany, my conscious thoughts started to fade.
Prisms dancing on a glass floor gave a caleidoscope view of a million rainbow splinters. When the images shaped a bit more I found myself in a crystal portal, filled with brilliant colors. In the middle, there was a being sitting in a lotus position.

Still partially blinded by the light from the prisms, it took me some time to reduce the shapes to what looked like a young girl. Her hands caressed the golden strings of a harp, the tones filling the room with a supernatural warmth. I walked up to her and tried to catch a glimpse of her face. But without moving she turns with every step I take. Whatever move I make only her long hair and slightly arched back remain visible.

A sense of recognition shoots through me but doesn´t allow me to recognize. The glare and reflection in this mysterious space make it impossible for me to focus on my past. I can only experience the now, disconnected from any memories.

Her head straightened as her voice struck the first note, so brilliant, so pure, so wonderfully beautiful. The vibrations flows through my entire body and then collide with the crystal walls. Hair-fine cracks occur in the crystal and spread throughout space. This sound was so full of warmth, love, and beauty that it hurt me in the depths of my core.

I recognize the voice.
Not the way it sounds now, but the memories bubbled up, memories that came from the darkest vaults of my heart. I finally am able to connect the dots and know who this sound belongs to, while the cracks in the crystal walls grow frighteningly large. Then like a volcanic eruption, my head gets flooded with memories of my sister.

Gasping for breath, I find myself back on the rock, surrounded by misty rippling water, with a heartbeat pounding in my temples and her voice still ringing in my ears. The memories, which were so clear a second ago evaporate at such a pace that before I open my eyes all have disappeared. Only the memory of remembering remains.

Completely confused, I try to regulate my breathing and force myself to calm down. The experience was so intense that I am still shaking. I take my time and finally regain my peace.

Slowly I become aware of what has just happened to me. I descended into the beautiful but most hidden chamber of my soul. That is where I keep my sister, that room with no door, no lock. Which had to remain unopened, because she's still alive there, because I'm holding her there. That room I would never have entered of my own free will because the memories of the love I felt for her were too painful.

Then tears pour from my eyes and stream down my cheeks. Again the memories surface, but this time in my conscious state. I have to let them in, resistance is futile. Like waves crashing on the shore, the memories invade my heart again. The sadness that comes with it rips open my soul. I feel torn. Never before have I shed a tear for her death, but now they are unstoppable.

I don't know how long I sat there, but I am cold and stiff when my tears dry up. Once more I take a deep breath, the sadness has cried out. It has given way to a somewhat sad, but certain smile. I remember her as a little girl dancing in the river. I watch her from the water's edge, see the innocence I now realize she never lost, preserved by prematurely exchanging this world for another.

It was only then that I began to realize that it is necessary for some souls, who dazzled dazzlingly, to pass over before they become infected with such things as hurt, jealousy, discontent, or betrayal. Those things that make a soul insecure, cast doubt on the childish idea that love is the greatest good. Something you want to share with as many people as possible.

It all dawns on me, the closed space was inside me. The memory freed me from a burden I had carried for so long. I feel lighter, more aware of everything, and at the same time, I can see myself from a greater distance.

I had already found the answer to my quest before I fell into a trance. I found that by placing myself outside my very small world. But subconsciously I had now found the key I had not been looking for. One that was so much more valuable and that gave me insight into why my world had become so small.

It was a confirmation that I myself created my world and that I had made it so small because the room in my soul had no room for more unprocessed grief. The room still existed, but it was cracked. There were openings that I could use to let the sadness flow away with all the tears I will shed and make room for something new.

Dear Reader, I would like to share this story with you;

It will take you on a seemingly endless journey.
A trip that takes you places I might have visited many moons ago.
It´s a tale that came back to me when I meditated on one of my past lives.

Click here to Start with Chapter 1

Chapter 7

Dear Reader, do you occasionally feel a sense of loneliness these days?

Or are you too busy with all the obligations and the wish not to have to stand still?

I will need to step into that loneliness as my endless journey is slowly starting.

At least if I manage to break out of this cell, which I have built up around me for years.

And you Dear Reader did you barricade your heart, and now feel trapped inside?

I looked at the faces surrounding the fire. I taught some of these lads when I just started teaching. If some of that respect was still there it could give me some leverage. Well that along with a few glasses of rice wine to make them talk to me about things the older tribesmen would rather not hear about.

"SHHH calm down," I told the young man that probably had two too many.
The tribal elders were not supposed to learn anything from these conversations.

"How about strangers Arcano, and I mean stranger than the villagers you have met on your travelers? Did you ever meet people that traveled?"
I needed to cut him short as I was not so much concerned with who lived where and what trade could be conducted with them. A topic he kept going on about.

Ever since I started my little quest it seemed I was getting nowhere. All those who had traveled to other settlements were only interested in the women and herds they encountered.

"Strangers Martino?" He looked at me suspiciously. "You rather hear about strangers than about Sei and her sister?"

He shook his head; "Sei´s sister Anika told me a story about strangers. Strange travelers that had once passed through the village. They wore gold and black clothes and both their appearance and their weapons were nothing like the weapons her grandfather had ever seen before. They had spent the night in the settlement and exchanged two of the finest swords for water, food, and beasts of burden. The next day they traveled on toward the mountains. I have seen those Katanas with my own eyes, they are like...." He nodded his head and had an eager look in his eyes.

I left the young man alone with his wine and went home. This was the first time I heard about any travelers.
I didn't learn much more from the previous conversations. Although their stories did give me a good picture of the region and its composition.

In my hut, I started sketching on rice paper. I tried to map what they told me about surrounding villages and natural landmarks. I used the same detail as what was used when they were described.

I even added those things that had not been witnessed and were only hearsay. For example, the map even contained mythical figures, magical trees, and enchanted waterfalls. Which, according to lore, all had been seen by travelers exploring the edges of the known world.

I distilled a map of the area as far as we knew it, still, it didn´t give me any lead on where Numico's mysterious "boss of the world" might be. I was so engrossed in my search that I neglected my spiritual world. Actually, the neglect had already been set in motion by my master's death, but the current distraction provided a good excuse.

Meditating, collecting herbs, listening to guides and spirits of the forest, everything reminded me of Oniko. I had loved him more than I wanted to admit and now I stagnated.

Master Oniko's death had cut me off from the world within, even more than I already was. My soul now wandered in my personal abyss, chained to heavy steel chains, bound to balls of lead. So that I wouldn't have to see him, wouldn't hear him.

Since my sister's death, I had withdrawn from socializing with other members of my tribe. My mother and Oniko were actually the only ones I spoke to freely.

I knew everyone in the village, but mainly from my role as a teacher. This role I had adapted as a second skin. A skin that I could never completely shed. It protected me, protection from getting caught up in small-town issues, gossip, and relationships.

The latter in particular was something that I unconsciously kept wearing the skin for. Losing a loved one was a heavy burden that I didn't want to go through again. My mother's death didn't make it any easier.

Master Oniko's departure was different. His body announced his departure long before his mind did. But even in my relationship with the master, a distance remained.

Partly out of respect, but also out of self-preservation. Yet his death threw me even more back on myself, fortunately, I was able to devote myself to my research.

The spiritual stagnation of course reflect in the visible world as a stagnation of my research, it made me despondent. I thought about giving up and moving on with my normal life. After all, there was the gap left by the master. I toyed with the idea for a few moments until my eye fell on the low stone table.

The candle, which had been burning there all night, began to flicker signaling the first phase of its inevitable end.

The spectacle did not let go of my eye. The flame retreated into the candlestick, only to struggle out with renewed strength. This fight lasted for quite some time and it was only when the sunlight began to creep in through the seams of the cloth covering the door that the candle decided not to give up.

She chose the only other way. She formed into a small blue ball and could thus have lived her last hours in the safe shelter of the candlestick. Were it not that a single sigh from me put an end to it.

Tired but inspired I gathered some frankincense, a cloth, and a water jug. Then I made my way down to the valley. On my walk, I passed some of the men of the village. I knew their faces but did not remember their names and realized how withdrawn I had become.

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Picture By Me And My Artificial Intelligence