Contemplation

“But we cannot have this relationship” said the mentor
“But I do not want that relationship” replied the scribe
“Then what do you want in return, child, speak plainly” continued the master
“I have spoken no other way, I ask for nothing in return,” whispered the pupil
“No one shall understand what you speak of, you will be mocked, you will be cast out” stated the leader
“Then that is the burden I must bear, that is my payment to the world,” murmured the follower

Continuing: “Am I truly so awkward, am I truly so strange, as to be treated as a criminal, a common thief, a slave? I take up my cross, and rightly so, but must this cross be made of steel, must this cross weigh down on me, weigh down on me as the weight of the world on Atlas’ shoulders does?”

“Dear child” the master sung sweetly, “paths have been chosen for you, and you have chosen your own paths, now is the time of decision, the moment of truth, the true judgment, the test of your character. I have taught you well, my daughter, I have taught you the ways of the diplomat, the merchant, the king, the servant, and the warrior. You must now grow in the paths I have set up for so many years and develop your own paths.”

“You are blossoming child, but do not let this ripening distract you from the ultimate path, the path of salvation and glory. Not the glory of praise, but rather, the glory of God. The roots embrace your ankles, your body revels in the beauty of a flower, you face glows in the sunlight, and your hair is caressed by the wind. My spirit is in that which you feel, in the heart, which I have taught you to guard. When diplomacies fail, and the mind has no purpose, turn to your heart, forget what I have said, and yet remember at the same time. You will feel me in your heart, the forbidden feelings, not of desire and passion, but of tenderness and safety. I will truly be one with you.

At this sudden display of feeling the protégé deliberated, “This must be a trick, a trick which leads to a lesson. No, I must never trust, I must never belong. And yet, I believe his words. His eyes allow me to enter his spirit, his soul. I feel a strange sensation; I feel an odd freedom about me. No, it cannot be, Is this the Eighth Portal, known only through legend and myth, where servant intertwines with master, and is connected to him for eternity? No, it cannot be, I have been trained to know the coming of the Eighth Portal, and trained quite excellently, I might add.”

“No” I contemplated, “This is only another test, yes, another test of character. What a clever one the master is” I mused as I proceeded to transcribe some scrolls.