The Priest

The Island.
Once upon a time, when the world was in its youth, a little boy lived in a village. The family, he was born to, was desperately poor. From dawn to dusk his mother had to work at the slope of the mountain, at the duke’s vineyards. She came back home worn out, she brought a handful of raisins and she fell on the bed in order to leave the house when the dawn broke. Her hands always smelt earth.
The father was gloomy and tired of caring for his family. In summer he would go into the forest to burn coal and in winter he would take a job of a miner. Thus nobody paid attention to the boy’s growing up. He spent all day long with the same ragged and starving children as he was.
It wasn’t easy to live in the village. The terrain was densely forested. Those who were occupied with sowing wheat tried with their strength to save their few fields. They felled tries, grubbed stumps but everything was in vain. In a year the terrain used to be overgrown with tries. If the peasants managed to gather harvest, all the people in the village celebrated it and it was the only holiday in a year. They burnt the image of the dragon, an old enemy of man. The old men sang sad and long drawn-out songs. The point is that the world was in its youth and the people’s hearts kept the yearning for the lost paradise. The young people looked only ahead and that’s why they celebrated separately from the old, drank green wine and enjoyed themselves singing and dancing in a ring till the morning.
After the celebration the duck’s warriors used to come to pick up the tribute. There were cries heard from every yard that day. Strong worries burst into their houses and took all that people hadn’t hidden. If they managed to find hidden corn, the worries took out the owner of the house for the others’ edification. The boy stared at the flogged woman, with the eyes wide open. She was lying in dust in the middle of the road. He stood, his head full of his first untypical questions for his age. Why is everything in the world arranged in such a way? Why does his mother have to gather grapes in the heat of the summer without straightening her back while someone is born with the silver spoon in his mouth not enjoying the taste of labour, blows and starvation?
All the boy’s questions failed to get full responses from his mother. When questioned, she could only answer:” It’s the will of the fate”. In reply to his natural question “why”, she had nothing to do but to ignore him. As for the father, he couldn’t understand what the boy was talking about. “We should think what we will eat tomorrow and how to pay the tribute to the Duck. And there is no use in concentrating on idle ideas and trifles”, he used to tell the boy. Thus there was no hope on the adult.
It should be mentioned that the boy had a grandfather. He was a strange and enigmatic man. He lived in isolation from the others in a small white house amide the verdure of the grapes at the very foot of the hill. They said, that the Duke himself asked the grandfather to settle there. But nobody knew why.
A great many rumours about the grandfather were going around the village. People said that he could cure many illnesses with no spells and herbs but with the touch of his hand. They also said that he had a gift of stopping rains and a great command of the ancient true language of the Earth that people forgot long ago and that is spoken only by the animals and giants that lived high in the mountains.
People said many things about him but one he saw with his own eyes. Once wood-cutters carried out his father with his leg cut with an axe. The mother began to wail and burst into tears but she took the right decision. She asked to take him not to the village wizard but immediately to the foot of the hill, into the small white house.
The boy was also in the center of events and went there with the rest but the grandfather allowed nobody to enter the house. Moreover he asked everybody to leave the place and closed the door. Nobody got to know what was going on there. At all events the was dim trembling light over the slope of the hill. And in the morning the father came back into the forest safe and sound. However many times the boy might have examined his father’s legs by stealth, there wasn’t the
 slightest hint of the scar.
The grandfather was a mysterious man. He stayed at home all day long. People would say that hardly a day went by when he didn’t look into any runes, ancient sacred and mysterious scrolls. The boy saw with his own eyes these runes and heavy leather scrolls, lots of the scrolls. And he saw a great deal of enigmatic signs written there.
The boy had a longing for the house of his grandfather. He knew for sure answers to many questions stirring the boy. But still the boy couldn’t make up his mind to drop in on his grandpa’s as he knew that the old man was not a very hospitable one.
Once a week the old man with his light-colored linen shirt on called on the boy’s mother. He brought a few figs and nuts and then he went away still being mysterious and whimsical and far from people’s fuss.
Our little boy tried to find the cause to visit his grandpa many times. But every time he put it off as he couldn’t make up his mind to disturb him. And in the long run, he got an opportunity.

At the beginning of autumn, when the snow in the mountains had already begun to melt, three monks had their way run through the village. Ragged and exhausted monks with their knapsacks on their shoulders went to the vineyards and spent a night at the grandfather’s. At dawn they continued their way to some unknown places where distant mountain spur were turning blue on the horizon.
The boy became interested in these monks and he questioned the local wizard, his parents but nobody could give him a clear idea. He finally plucked up the courage and went to his grandfather. Being scared and confused, he knocked at the door of the white house and it got immediately opened. The grandfather seemed to know that his grandson would come that very day. He brought the boy to a light room without any astonishment. He made him sit down on the bench and he himself sat down close to him.
- Do you want to know where these monks went to, - he asked in a low voice keeping his exploring gaze at the boy’s confused eyes. His grandson nodded his head. – They went to the temple of Live God in order to accomplish the pilgrimage in order to keep their vow.
- And where is that very temple?
- There is a single cliff far away, behind the blue mountains on the very edge of the Earth. By legend Live God came down from the heaven in the image of man. It took place about a thousand years ago, immediately after the creation of the world, according to the sacred runes. Later on people built a little temple in the precise place.
- What else is there in that temple? Is Live God still living there? – asked the boy.
- No, of course, he isn’t. Now the deserted temple is situated there. There is an iron door, holy of holies, that can’t be opened. The sacred runes say that the door will open on the day of the second living God’s advent to the Earth.
- But what is the reason for them to go there? There’s nobody, – the boy continued asking various questions.
- Craving for a heroic deed calls them to the temple. The main thing for them is not the temple of its own but the way to it. On their way they will get rid of people’s fuss. They will devote their thoughts to God only. They will clear themselves of the sins ever committed, they’ll become lucid and when at last they achieve the iron gates to bow to, they will turn other people. The runes say that all believers should do this.
- Do all this runes and scrolls know everything? Where are they from?
- It’s the words of Live God. He would say them to people during his first advent, immediately after people were exiled from Paradise, when they began to settle all over the word. Somebody wrote them down then. Live God’s words are always whimsical obscure to people as He has a different way of thinking from ours. Thus people have been trying to decipher these Sacred words since then. I myself devoted my whole life in order to attempt to perceive them.
- Where is it possible to learn to read them? – asked the boy and the grandfather looked at him with a mirthless grin.
- The difficulty is not in reading them but understanding. Every word in these runes conveys a thousand of meanings. It depends on the way you’ll regard them. If you read them correctly and perceive them, you’ll get to know all the things, God himself knows.

Silence fell upon the room. The grandfather was sadly looking out of the window. He was busy with his thoughts far from the world.
- And what did you happen to know while reading them? – the boy broke the silence.
- I learned much that was new to me. I learned that good is able to near man to God, in case you do it in all sincerity. I learned that there is much evil in the world due to our arrogance. I learned that if you want to understand God, it’s necessary to love in the way God only loves. I began to understand His words too late and I know that I have no time to learn to love. But you, on the contrary, have a kind heart and pure soul, and you had no chance to love false delights of sin.
- How the understanding of the runes will help me? Shall I become rich like our Duke? Shall I live in a castle?
- If you’ll perceive the runes, you won’t need earth’s wealth. You’ll experience another true wealth. You’ll be able to do good as God. Stars will speak to you and seas will take you into their confidence. Mighty winds will obey you and clouds will cry with joy when you asked them to serve you. You will live everywhere: in every man, in the sun, in a small ant and in a volcano. You become indivisible with Live God, who lives nowhere but at the same time everywhere.
Something strange happened to the boy at that moment. The grandfather and the whole room floated away into total darkness. An unusual vision flashed before his eyes instead of reality:
There is a small village in sands, on the edge of a vast desert. The sun was hot and some tramp in dusty rags is standing. He is standing, smiling and waving his hand invitingly. ”It’s high time” , -- the boy hears a low voice. – “Come up to me”.
The boy shook his head and unknown tramp with a bright smile and sad eyes vanished and let the reality come back.
The boy had no hesitation.
- Grandfather, teach me to read these scrolls, -- the boy made up his mind once and for all, as only children do. He was trembling with excitement, he stood up and looked at the grandfather’s eyes in a pleading way.
- First of all you should learn the ancient language of the world, which the sacred runes are written in. And for this, you should study in the priest school. Now you are choosing the only aim worth in this life. And who knows, maybe, it’s you who’ll discover the thing, that others haven’t managed to understand for thousands of years.

In a week the father borrowed money from a usurer and bought all the necessary things for school. The boy was seen off by the whole village.
- Maybe, you’ll lucky, -- the peasants said to the happy mother. The son will be literate and this mean he will always be able to make his bread. It’s possible that he’ll become the chief wizard. He might be rich and he’ll take care of you and won’t forget us. The whole village takes pride in him. “At least one of us won’t be forced to bend his back, gathering grapes and olives for the Duke. We wish he learnt, returned home in order to make us happy and learn how to live.” People said and the mother was shining with a smile, getting from them sometimes a slice of barley bread, sometimes a white goat’s cheese.
The grandfather, concentrated and totally absorbed in thought, read the prayer hastily and set out early in the morning to the south, where there was the priest school oversea on a rocky island.
That’s how the way to the truth began.
Their way towards the coast was long and difficult. They were going through virgin forests, scorched by the sun, through stone deserts, where rolling roar of dragons was heard for three months. And at last, they achieve the sea, being emaciated and brown as a berry. There the grandfather hired the first ship he came across. In a week they reached the island.
What the boy saw disappointed him bitterly. He expected to see light large edifices, a splendid park, where stately students in long garments were strolling and were talking quietly to each other about some very important and extremely complicated things. He expected to see wise grey-haired teaches with scrolls in their hands, lights and hissing fountains. But he did see nothing of the kind. The island was absolutely naked. A great many birds built their nests on the gloomy cliffs. He had heard their hubbub far in the sea, being on the ship. Some birds were constantly flying over the naked island, foaming and sizzling, waves were breaking on the cliffs and were rolling away. Only a little wooden mooring, covered with various shells and green seaweed, indicated that there was man on the island.
-- The ship can’t approach closer, -- the captain told the grandfather. – The breakers are that heavy and can carry us out on the stones. You paid me well enough and I’ll give you a boat with rowers. If somebody else were in your place, priest, I wouldn’t have come to this cursed place no matter how much they may pay.
-- Does he know you? – asked the boy, pulling the grandparent’s sleeve. No answer was given. – Why are all so afraid of this place? – the boy kept on asking and examining pale sailors who were lowing a boat.
-- It’s nothing but prejudices of ignorant people, -- the grandfather responded at last. – People tell cock-and-bull stories about this island. They say, wizards, lightening-charmers and werewolves live here. Moreover, dragons lay their eggs and the night falls to the Earth from right here. People say that everyone who’ll come to the island won’t come back and will turn into a bat or a sea-gull. I’ll reveal the secret to you: the priests set these rumours afloat so that any guests shouldn’t disturb them. Nevertheless, something is going on here.
-- Where are these priests? Where is the school? – asked the boy, taking his seat in the boat.
-- The school is just a name,-- answered the grandfather.—Once, about five hundred years ago, there really were both students and teachers but everything was gradually falling into decay. Less and less people were coming here in the hope that they might find the truth and become more kind. People began to seek happiness in false earthly pleasures. Then the true language of the Universe was forgotten and every man began to speak his own language as everyone listened only to himself. There was no use in the truth. I won’t be astonished if you’ll be the only and the last student. Now you will see the priest.
At that moment the boy enjoyed the view of marble stairs which led from the mooring to the cliffs and hid in the cave.
Stumbling over the stairs, a stranger was running to meet the boat. He helped to take it out. When the grandfather and his grandson set foot on land, the man bowed low to them. All the boy saw, was a real discovery for him. The world appeared to be so enormous. It seemed to him that all people in the world knew his grandpa.
-- Tell me, please, -- the boy whispered to the priest when taking the shaky stairs. – How do you know my grandfather?
-- All of us know and respect this priest. He spent forty years on this island and twenty years ago he left the place to continue deciphering the sacred manuscripts. He did his utmost in interpreting. Many rulers wanted him to give wise advice. He still remains one of the best interpreters of many issues. When he left the island the chief keeper foretold that your grandfather would come back with his grandson and that the latter, in his turn, would be the last student in the island of wisdom. As you see, this prediction came true. The chief keeper never errs.
They went deep into the darkness of the cave. They had to take their steps carefully in a narrow, but long passage, carved out in the cave. At last they reached a spacious underground hall where they saw lighted torches round them. Venerable soot covered the grey walls of the cave. And water was heard dropping somewhere. There was a venerable old man standing in the center of the hall. He had pure childish eyes and a white like snow beard. Seven elderly priests with black garment on were standing round that old man.
-- Good afternoon, keeper, -- the grandfather said, making his step forward and bowed before him.
-- Pleased to see you. Bring your grandson to me.
The grandfather fulfilled his wish and brought the trembling boy. The keeper closed the eyes and put his heavy palm on the child’s head. The time went by so slowly. Every moment seemed like an eternity. There was a silence after that except for the crackling of the fire and the dropping of the water.
-- You can leave him here, -- said the keeper taking away the palm.
The grandfather, in his turn, bowed not saying a word. He went back into the passage without turning round and saying goodbye to his grandson.
The boy was about to follow him but the keeper stopped him shaking his head.
-- But I haven’t said goodbye to him! – said the boy in a law voice.
-- What for should you do it? It’s only a matter of time and you’ll meet.
-- But he is an old man. And what if he should die? – asked the boy with tears in his eyes and with startled eyes.
-- No, he won’t. He will live in his white house and wait for your return.
-- How do you know it? Can you foresee future? – cried the boy in despair.
-- Yes and to all that I can look to the past and present. There is no time. Remember it. Time is only man’s measure of movement from birth to death. If you go towards the eternity, time doesn’t exist for you. Student, I’ll let you in on the first secret. We can compare time with a river. It can never be in the beginning or in the middle or in the end as the river can’t be concentrated in the river head or the river bed, being spread all the way to the sea. Time carries past, present and future in itself. While you are carried as a little drop by this river towards the ocean of the death, towards the end of your life way of an individual, time belong to you. But if you manage to fly up to the skies, you’ll see the river of time entirely. And then past, present and future will merge all together for you in one and the same rhythm. But it is far too difficult and complicated for you. Now you should only leave all your earthly standards and thoughts on the threshold of our abode. Here you’ll learn to think in the other way. Now go and set to learning the thoughts of the very sky, Live God’s words.

Many years had passed since the day the boy made his first step on the shore of the sages’ shelter. Life went on at a full pace. New continents were discovered, new kingdoms used to appear, the whole empires used to flourish and to fall into decay. People killed each other for the sake of money. They built cities and subjugated deserts. Still there was no change in the life of the island. Time seemed to have not the power over this plot of land, lost in a blue sea.
Every day here could hardly be told from the previous one. The day smoothly flowed into weeks and even years. People of the island rarely went out to the surface. They lived in cells, hewed in stone round the chief keeper’s underground hall. If somebody wished for more solitude, they moved further into a maze of tunnels and corridors. The boy tried not to enter the maze as it was strange enough. The corridors were curved, with no corners. One couldn’t see where the corridors led to. They went away and lost in unknown depth. They lured to go further and to follow their twists and perceive not movement but time in gradual development. Those, who had the courage to go there, didn’t return. The priests whispered and spread the rumour that the maze reached the center of the Earth and went further, turning into other physical dimensions.
The boy learned lots of things at that time. He learned to cure people, taking pain from them. He learned ancient Earth’s language and he could fluently talk with grey birds as usual nesting on the cliffs.
Sometimes he managed to change the direction of the wind and to call a whale to the shore. Unfortunately, the boy didn’t approximate to the main thing, the truth.
Naturally, he knew the runes and was able to read the sacred scrolls on his own and sometimes he was lucky to interpret them.
The thing the boy understood is that the runes possessed a magic quality: it depended on the way one looked in them that he managed to read and perceive. The runes mirrored man’s soul, his thoughts and desires. One and the same place in the runes was interpreted differently by each priest. Furthermore, even one priest could interpret them with a new essence every time, depending on his mood.
The runes told the same things to everybody: the main issue is to find love, to love the world, every blade of grass, every grain of sand in the way you yourself love. That was clear to everybody.
The chief secret was hidden in something else: where one can find such love, how to experience sincere and selfless love towards the things, that couldn’t be considered worthy according to your standards.
There were some priests who confirmed that they achieved this condition but they lied. They loved everybody in words, trying to convince themselves of this in the first place. But people surrounded them saw that it was nothing but skillfully strained mask.
This mask tore very often and hypocrisy showed its true face in words, thoughts and actions.
Those, who was honest with themselves and who didn’t strived for external piety, continued to seek. And they tried to make themselves love this world without dividing it into “me and other people”. It was very difficult, even impossible.
Every priest interpreted the essence, that was well clear for him only. They couldn’t agree on the common way of achieving it. Very often heated arguments took place in the round hall. The keeper was just smiling, when excited priest questioned him. He used to give one and the same reply:
-- It’s impossible to make oneself love one’s enemies. Love is Live God’s gift.
The priests used to ask immediately:
-- How can one deserve this gift?
But in response kept smiling, being totally plunged in thought.
It should be mentioned that apart from birds, turtles chose the island to live on. In late autumn, when the season of storms would come, they crawled out on coastal cliffs and the boy talked to them with great pleasure.
One day when he was strolling along the shore in search of turtles, the boy found a grotto hidden from the breakers. It was warm and dry there, cold autumn wind didn’t penetrate into the grotto. Thus the boy willingly lay down on dry seaweed and fall asleep. Then he had a wonderful dream that had nothing in common with a usual one. The dream was so real that it was difficult to call it a dream. He dreamt about unfamiliar cities and countries either in future or in past, in some space of time.

-- Look for God, know Him, -- a grey-haired old man cried frenziedly, standing on the city square and raising his hands to the sky. Crowds of people all round him were flocking to the glittering in the sun temple. People were in a hurry. Pushing the old man, they were carrying such offerings as grain, sheep and pigeons in wooden cages. Here and there priests could be seen. The city was surrounded by the troops. People of the desert set up marquees in front of the city walls. Week resistance was on the verge of breaking down. And the death was ready to burst into the narrow streets of the city. It’s high time to hurry up and to sacrifice. All those people were full of the hope that Almighty Yahweh would have mercy on them and would safe the ancient city as it used to be not once. They had no time to listen to some old man and his strange appeals.
And he was still standing and crying, suffering from people’s blindness and lack of understanding. This severe old man was none other than prophet Isaiya.
-- He doesn’t need your sacrifices but your hearts. You should sacrifice him your past life full of sins.
-- Get to know God, -- was whispering the boy all together with the prophet.
Then the boy had another dream.
The events took place somewhere far from the city under siege, in some other country, in some other tome. And in a beautiful palace some other words were heard:
-- Good is the only thing that people should get to know and perceive. The escape from the power of darkness is possible by doing good things only. The joy of bringing good can get man close to Gods.
A man in a torn oriental robe was talking to noble Persians, surrounding him. The prophet had just returned from desert plateaus of Midia. His aim was to bring a new study. That was a study of good without usual bloody sacrifices and without performing perpetual rituals.
The Persians were sitting on soft carpets and were drinking sorbet from silver cups. They were nodding gravely.
“It doesn’t matter what this possessed one is talking about”, -- the Persians thought, stroking their beards. – “The main thing is that people are listening to him. Common people will follow him. And it’ll serve our purpose.
-- Perceive the joy of good, -- the boy whispered. He couldn’t but agree with Zaratustra, a prophet in the torn oriental robe.
This unusual dream changed from one into another. Then the boy could clearly see another clean-shaven man, sitting under a green fig-tree. Now it was another country somewhere behind mountains, covered with snow. This man, shading the chinks of his slightly swollen eyes with his hand, was talking to his students in a low voice:
-- Life on the Earth is an everlasting chain of sufferings. The birth in itself carries grief, old age and death. Perceiving life we perceive sufferings…
-- Sufferings, -- the boy was moaning together with Buddha.
Then the boy happened to hear a few more words in this marvelous dream.
A man with a derisive glance was walking among white buildings and marble statues of Gods, on the coast of a warm sea, in wonderful south city, buried in olive gardens. His name was Socrat.
-- The world is far too diverse to perceive it, -- said Socrat to philosophers in tunics surrounding him.
-- One can perceive oneself only. Only after one manage to fulfil it will he perceive the world, for every man possess its inner world.
-- Perceive oneself…-- the boy whispered and shuddered . Strangely enough, the boy saw the common origin in the four unlike each other men.
 Then suddenly all of them vanished, bright light spread around instead.
Millions of stars flashed out in darkness, began to sparkle brighter and brighter. They began to unite and consequently appeared to be the whole. In a second an ocean of fire raged round the boy. The fire seemed to flood the whole Universe with light.
-- Did you want to ask? I’m all ears. – a calm whisper was heard. The light itself seemed to pronounce the words.
-- How can one find place in poor man’s mind for perceiving the joy of good, sufferings and perceiving oneself and God. – whispered the boy in response.
-- Mind can’t contain them. All these will go into heart. Don’t try to find the truth in one of these notions only. They are inseparable.
-- I can admit perceiving of oneself, good and sufferings. But how God can be perceived?
-- Perceive love towards dislike and you’ll understand what He feels, -- said a tramp, who suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing near some poor girl on the verge of a desert. The tramp was dressed in rags and was smiling in a sad still very familiar to the boy manner.
-- The most difficult thing is to perceive oneself. Keep in your mind that our main illusion is the illusion of our “ego”, -- he added very strangely and everything disappeared.
Then the emptiness of eternity, the faces of his parents, some temple in silver moonlight appeared for a moment changing each other and finally the boy woke up.
In a few days the chief keeper sent for him. It should be mentioned that the old man had hardly changed since the day of their first meeting. The priest were gossiping about him seeing that he overstepped man’s time limits. He had already been living in the eternity, having managed to make his body imperishable.
-- What did you happen to know from the sacred runes, -- asked the keeper, watching the boy.
-- Just the same as the other priests know. The sin has power over man till there’s no love in his heart. When man begins to love people, all his acts have their roots in love and in this case there’s no place for a sin left. But I have no idea how to achieve such love. It’s seemed to me for many years that I learnt to love this world. I fell asleep with a smile on my lips but then dull morning came. Thus the things, that had brought me joy the previous day, made me angry and furious. When talking to myself, I came to the conclusion that I loved people but in reality I couldn’t prove this love whenever I had a chance. I do nothing. I consider myself to be an honest man, though I’m good with myself only. Tell me please, keeper, how to learn to love all people in the right way and to do them good only?
The keeper smiled in a calm and bright way as he could only do.
-- Try to see God in everyone! Then love will appear in your heart. And you’ll never do something wrong. What a fool a man should be to treat God badly? Though…
The keeper kept silence and then suddenly asked:
-- If Live God came to our Earth what would people do? What do you think?
The question seemed ridiculous to the boy and he replied:
-- They would definitely give up their vain and useless occupations and ran to Him in order to listen intently to his advice how to return into the lost paradise.
The keeper nodded:
-- You are wrong to think so. They will admire however people will crucify him. People will sing psalms of His sanctity, fastening Him to a cross. They will live Him to die there and ravens will fly round a bloody body. The reason is that it’s more comfortable and habitual for people to see Live God crucified and to beg his pardon rather than live with him, close to the light.

Their second talk took place during an evening meal. They were sitting at the same table and had a supper of shells and boiled seaweed as usual. The boy was sitting and listening to habitual priests’ squabble.
The topic of their conversation was Hades and Paradise.
Even though usually the priests didn’t see eye to eye and couldn’t agree even on trifles, now they were of the same opinion. They devoted the whole live to learning the sacred runes. There were, certainly, saints. They were supposed to experience eternal bliss after death. The rest were stuck in sins and vices, as a consequence they got directly to Hades to suffer eternally.
When describing each other the sufferings, the priests flushed with pleasure.
-- Love can’t punish, -- said the boy in a state of shock.
An eerie silence fell upon the place. All the priests turned their faces towards the boy.
-- Love can’t punish otherwise it’s not love but jealousy or even hatred. Let alone good, it can’t make suffer or do harm, otherwise it’s not good. It’s striking, but if eternal sufferings were abolished, those who say that they are kind and they love people would be disappointed to the most extent. According to you, God is just. And that is true. Actually, how can it be that temporary sin should be punished by eternal suffering? Considering justice, eternal punishment should be use for eternal sin.
The priests turned purple with rage.
-- Do you think that in case Live God appears on the Earth… -- started to talk one of them in ringing voice.
-- Then he’ll forgive all people. He is God! I believe that you thought out punishment for people, because your wrong interpretation of Live God’s words. You overrode earthly pleasures in return for divine retribution. That’s nothing but bargain. You don’t like those who have nothing in common with you. But for true love we are all equal and it’s impossible to distinguish foreigners. We study on this Island and become wiser. But we gain a great pretence together with sharpness of mind. One will never learn to love if he is kind in the name of paying the debt of God. Love has nothing to do with such a notion as debt. It just loves. It’s a paradox that our human knowledge prevents us from perceiving God. As we perceive good, we should perceive evil. Otherwise how could we tell evil from good. When we see beauty we are able to distinguish ugliness. That is why the short can be measured by the long and vice versa. People can’t understand Paradise without having an idea of Hades. In case love will divide itself into love towards one and hatred towards another person, there’ll be no such notion since love will turn into the notion of good and evil.
It’ll be a vicious circle. We should break this circle, try to love all people and consider them worthy of Paradise. One of God’s commandments is to love our enemies. The sun shines for everybody, a cherry-tree is in blossom for everybody even for the worst sinner.
It’s hard to describe what took place when the boy stopped talking. But for the keeper, he would be beaten. The keeper in his turn had listened to the boy’s speech very attentively and in the end of it he had nodded his agreement. He stopped the priests quivering with rage very simply: he left the table showing the dinner was over. The priests had to go away to their cells. The keeper asked the boy to stay a bit longer.
-- These words are worth my long waiting for them. You are on the right way, my student.
-- You are laughing at me, the keeper. I’ve made no headway. You know a great deal. Please, help me to find the right way of understanding sacred runes. I’ll follow your advice.
-- The right way..? – smiled the keeper. – Haven’t you got that it’s the runes that represent the very way.

One more year passed. One day in an ordinary evening, when nobody expected any changes, the Head Keeper entered the boy’s room, having his white garment on and carrying an ancient crozier. He sat down on a narrow bed and started to talk in a serious voice but then stopped short, gave a little laugh and asked in his ordinary voice:
-- What for do people live on the Earth?
-- I have no idea, -- the boy was completely honest with the keeper. – Before I thought that they live for trial. But who should be examined and what for?
-- Many years ago we decided to become Gods, -- kept on the keeper. – It happened in the Paradise, beyond our present mind, long time ago. We broke His prohibition as it wasn’t enough for us to run in Paradise Garden, being happy God’s children and to enjoy His love. We longed for gaining His knowledge. Actually, we picked the apple of perceiving good and evil. He warned us but in vain. He knew how miserable this knowledge may be. Unfortunately, we didn’t listen to him. Our life is this very apple. “…And you’ll have knowledge of good and knowledge of evil as Gods…”
Nevertheless, I came to you for other reason. I will soon die. I could leave you as a keeper, a Head Keeper of wisdom, but there’s nothing to keep left here. There’s nothing here but everlasting arguments of arrogance. You should return to people and bear the light, God rewarded you with, in your heart. The world is plunged in darkness and people forgot Live God. His words are lost and power of gold absorbed the world and there is not any love there. Return it to people.
-- Why is it me who should commit it? I arrived to this island in order to understand the runes. I didn’t achieve the goal. Should I leave the island? Moreover, birds told me that people forgot about existing of the island. How can I leave it?
-- Tomorrow they’ll discover it again, -- added the keeper and left the cell.
 
 Return.
The island was discovered the following day. Early in the morning the priests were awoken by gunshots. Everybody ran out of the caves and looked at the herald of distant forgotten people’s world in alarm. A big ship in full sail was approaching the island. Meanwhile the priests were praying and staring at the representatives of an evil world. There was a look of sheer terror on their faces. Our little boy was standing in expectation of wonder. He believed the Head Keeper’s words for good.
By the way, nobody saw the keeper any more. Later on the boy guessed that he had got clean away in the dark maze far ever as though he had accomplished his mission. The keeper knew past, present and future. Later on our boy would remind the bright smile of the old man with the deepest gratitude. Later on he would seek the soul of his favourite and the wisest man in stars, gazing at night sky. But that would be later.
The frigate finished its manoeuvres and the anchor was dropped a few yards offshore. It was clearly seen that sailors bustled round the ship in order to lower boats.
The priests made up their minds to hide in the caves and not to wait uninvited guests. They preferred to end their days in seclusion as they used to live and to keep on arguing and seeking the essence of their existing.
The wisdom left the rocky island together with the disappearing of the keeper once and for all. It’s the boy who remained there.
He was standing not far from darkened piles of moorings destroyed by time, waiting predictable guests. The last student of love, presented the whole mankind be Live God, was nervous about his return to a strange, unfamiliar to him world of gold.
The sailors were looking at an emaciated hermit with some scrolls under his arms in wide-eyed astonishment. They couldn’t take their eyes off his ones, bright and pure, and they felt ill at ease when the boy looked at them.
The captain plotted the island on the map, named it after himself and was surprised to get to know that there was a man stayed alive on the island and that the man asked to take him on board.
The ship arrived here, following migrating turtles as their shells were highly valued in the world.
He made a leaving this way, but if there’s a chance he took up a slave-trade. Thus the captain agreed to take the man without a name on board and decided to sell him in the nearest port. In two days they started out, having supplied themselves with fresh water.

A great storm was raging for two days long. The ship lost all the freight but the people. The chaos of the universe took place there. Huge cold waves covered with white stripes of foam hurried somewhere behind the horizon. They were colliding with each other with thunderous roar, filling the whole space with sprays. The wind tore the tops of waves and, moving a bit higher, they faded into a black sky.
Now and then the rays of the moonlight struggled though low-flying clouds, lighting the sinking frigate. The sailors got soaked to the skin, ran along the deck, making fuss, and prayed to all Gods known to them, raising their hands to the clouds. The ship as though it was some being, looking at the face of its death. The masts were destroyed and the sails were torn away. When everything was thrown over board and there was no hope, the captain recalled that the islander was with them at the time.
-- Where is this damn hermit? I’d like to see him here.
The sailors descended to the hold. They stopped and gasped in amazement. The hermit was sitting calmly in a corner and was reading some scrolls. He seemed not to notice a horrible pitch, the roar of the wind and the clapping of torn tackles. Despite the fact that an oil lantern was burning dimly and there was water in the hold, he was very comfortable.
-- The captain thinks that you invited trouble to the ship. If you believe in Gods, hurry to pray to them as we decided to throw you over board. Gods are likely to accept the sacrifice and have mercy on us. Prepare to die.
-- God is one, -- said the hermit quietly. – He doesn’t need sacrifices. Let’s go and I’ll try to do something.
He, paying any attention to nothing round him, went up on deck and went to the foredeck, where frothy cold waves were raging.
He had been talking to the hurricane himself in the true language of the Earth, persuading him to change the direction.
-- You are upsetting the balance, -- the hurricane responded him with the roar and whistle of the wind. – The rain in heavy dark clouds is following me. And if I change my way, it’ll rain in the wrong place. You know, the priest, everything in this world lays down the law of balance. Thus, put up with me.
-- But Live God left the chance for a miracle to come. And you, hurricane, know it. You should submit to the words of Live God. I believe that these poor sailors will believe and save their lost souls when they see a miracle.
-- Well, -- roared the wind. – At your request, I’ll help you. I won’t change my direction but vanish and tomorrow appear again.
Silence fell upon the place. A sunny morning broke and the wind with the clouds disappeared. The sea changed its colour: at the bottom waves still remained black, but at the top, where white horses curled, the water turned emerald.
There was silence. The captain and the sailors were staring at the hermit, returning from the foredeck. Their eyes were full of fear.
It was a miracle. The captain’s lips were trembling:
-- Tell me, please what God did you prayed to and I’ll give all my money to build a temple in His honour. What God can easily talk to man? We all heard you talk with him.
-- God is one, -- repeated the boy. – I’ll tell you about Him.

The ship sailed for two weeks. The sea was calm and there was no breeze. The boy had a good chance to speak to the sailors.
The world had changed greatly. The matter is that there was another time on the island. Every man has its own fixed live time on the Earth. At birth a heart started to beat according to the seconds of being on the Earth. The priests were able to control and to hold the rhythm of their heartbeat up. On their arrival at the island, the priests studied the science of longevity. That is why time on the island went by more slowly than in the world of people. It was really hard for the boy to grasp the changes that had taken place in his absence.
While he was living on the island, people totally forgot Live God. There was no priests, learning the runes and living among people as his grandfather, left. Consequently, the world was plunged into darkness. People thought of themselves only. They united with the aim of attacking a weak one. Everything in the world was submitted to the law of gold.
Love deserted the Earth. Instead, perfidy, fraud and fear reigned. People understood that there were some higher powers and believed in many false Gods, resembling people in greed.
It was difficult for the priest to explain that there’s one God only and God should be revered with love and good.
The sailors, certainly, didn’t understand anything from the words of the strange man, but they felt the light, streaming from the boy, with all their heart. They had never loved and they had never been loved. All of a sudden they perceived that it is not their labour, muscles and money are necessary to the sky but they themselves in spite of their cruelty and sins.

Meanwhile, the ship reached a port. There everybody had to take their own way. The sailors collected money for the hermit. All the crew saw the boy off. They followed him with their eyes as if it was a dream. Being on the ladder, the boy felt them staring at his back. He was mysterious, strange and distant still the closest. He managed to affect and touch their callous souls with his whimsical words.

He had his way home in an unspeakable state of mind. He hadn’t had a chance to perceive the surrounding world so clear before. It was a wonderful unutterable feeling of unity with everything existing. He dissolved in the world and the world dissolved in him. It was an ambivalent feeling of extraordinary love.
At those moments he knew the whole essence of the universe. He was aware of the way the distant stars were born and of thoughts of a little spider, spinning its web. He knew the ways of mighty winds and how new man’s bones formed in a belly of a happy woman. At that moment he knew and understood everything.
The whole world was saturated with the deepest love towards him and he responded with the same love. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t experienced such feeling before.
The wind told him news from distant lands. A gloomy old boulder at the road grumbled about the surrounding fuss and invited the boy to sit on his stone side, warming in the sun.
At those moments gardens whispered the priest their secrets and a fig-tree turned towards him with its green branches, containing happiness when the hermit praised its ripe fruit.
Clouds, overtaking each other, apologized to him for their hurry to reach the sea and to share their moisture with it. They asked to remember them. The priest nodded in response, and they, in turn, cried with happiness, disappearing from view.
He told to ringing streams about his grandfather and in reply, they sent their best regards to him. The hermit settled the argument of two ants and showed a bee the shortest way to a flower, strewn with pollen.
At that time the priest felt as if he became air, spreading all over the world and being exhausted with this ambivalent, extraordinary love.
It was not as easy to deal with people. He talked to people about hope and kindness towards a neighbour everywhere: in a village or a small town. They laughed at him and could even hit the priest. But later on, when he went away farther, some of them got lost into meditations on his words, others couldn’t forget the bright and pure eyes, that turned a dark soul inside out. At dawn people, who had drove him out the previous day, went beyond the village fence and looked into the distance, at a dusty road, expecting the strange man to return.
However, the boy was eager to come back home. Thus he kept on going and was rewarded. Three months intervened and he returned at the starting-point of his life way. The head keeper hadn’t erred: the grandfather lived in his white house as usual. He lived for the day when he could see his nephew. Strangely enough, the grandfather outlived his nephew’s parents and other villagers. He had a long grey beard and hair and was bedridden. He could hardly speak and only his tear-stained cheeks displayed the feelings of the old man.
-- I hadn’t deciphered the runes yet, -- said the priest, stroking the grandfather’s hand tenderly.
The old man, in turn, tried to say something but in vain. Then he dissolved into tears again.
They started to live together. The priest carried on learning the ancient signs, constantly writing something out and learning by heart. In the evening he went to the square of the village and talked about love there. People laughed at him and twisted their fingers at their temples. They stopped for a while to listen to him and hurried further, being deep in their eternal problems and fuss.
But when he performed miracle, they treated them in another way. One day he visited all the houses in the village and cured all the sick at a time, taking their pain.
The following day, when lying on his bed and feeling used up, the first guests started to come to him. They brought gifts and always asked for same things: for riches, for putting the evil eye on their enemies, for bewitching a woman or power and success in earthly affairs.
The priest disappointed them.
Day in day out he explained them that he wasn’t a wizard as he was considered but a preacher of Live God’s words, the words of love. Peasants couldn’t understand that. Why should they have loved somebody? They preferred to be loved and gold and power could give it to them.
-- I can give you the amount of gold you want. But soon this gold will turn into a noose for you and you’ll hang yourselves on it, -- cried the priest, tired of people’s blindness and lack of understanding. –Take care to love each other. If so, you’ll get all wealth of the world. But the concern for wealth will never lead to love. That is God’s law.
It was agonizing time. People didn’t understand his words and he failed to find more intelligible words for them. Being disappointed, depressed and loosing the slightest hope, the priest went away to the forest. There he prayed, begging Live God to show him the direct way to the hearts of people. The last student of Live God’s words knew the way to the true happiness, but he couldn’t make people follow him on this way.
People of the world obeyed their own laws and the priest was unable to change anything. Thus he had nothing to do but to put up with this situation and live as others or to go away as the priests on the rocky island.
-- Grandfather, -- whispered the priest, sitting down on his bed and holding him by the hands. – I’m confused. The head keeper told me: “If you escape from the world with the help of monastery, you do it for your own sake. You run away to a desert for yourself. Keeping the fast or overeating, rolling in money or feeling the pinch, you do it for yourself. ” He revealed the chief secret to me: no matter what you do with yourself and for yourself but what you do for other’s sake. But how can I bring good to people if they can’t distinguish between good and evil. I’m in despair and don’t know what to do.

The priest couldn’t find a way out for a long time. In one usual evening he sat at his table and deciphered the runes. Then he got tired and lay on the bed without undressing. The priest fell asleep. At night he had a wonderful dream, totally different from ones he had ever seen.

He was standing in wet moss that came up to his ankles. It was cold. Cranberries, reddening on moss, were white with frost. The place was wreathed in dense fog. Some lights flashed here and there and from time to time quiet whisper was heard.
The body possessed its weight. He understood that, taking a step, when he heard the water purling under moss and felt an unreliable support under his feet sagging.
The priest wandered in the mist and finally reached an old rickety wooden hut, standing on mosses. He noticed fading light in dirty window and knocked at black rotten boards of a door. He went inside without waiting for an answer. There were wisps of herbs and roots hanging on mossy walls. In the center of a room there was a roughly knocked up table with a burning candle in a copper candlestick and scrolls of runes.
He took them with his hands and let out a voiceless scream. Letters were alive. At first they were full of light, then they turned bloody and at last the letters became totally dark. Each of them whispered its meaning to the priest and merged into words. The runes talked to him, laughed and cried. The history of the world seemed to speak to him through the runes. The priest could hear a roar of battles, a moan of dying men, a peal of girlish laughter and menacing curses.
All of a sudden, everything vanished. The priest saw a clear blue sky, a hot sun and a village that was bathed in dust and sand.
The priest encountered the same ragged dirty tramp. The latter caught the boy’s eye and started to wave his hand, smiling. The priest let out a voiceless cry once again.
By some miracle, in a moment he interpreted all the runes. The sacred words lost their allegory and spoke a clear natural language.
Still the priest couldn’t believe it. He grasped the runes and set to read page by page. It was not a mistake. He accomplished interpreting the ancient letters.
The priest laughed with happiness, his eyes were full of joy and tears rolled down his face.
He understood what the runes had always told him. He couldn’t have perceived them before as he hadn’t been ready to accept them. Apart from studies of good, the runes contained full descriptions of all people’s life from the first advent till that very night. There was everything: the loss of Paradise and of love, the wisdom of the rocky island and the power of gold. And everything was predestined.
 
“The greatest illusion is one of “ego”, -- whispered the priest the words of the strange tramp from his dreams.
Apart from past, the runes spoke clearly and directly about future. In ten days after deciphering the fullness of time would go away and Life God would appear on the Earth again. He would come to the same place in a small temple on the border of the world. He would come and wait behind iron gates in a sanctum. The priests were mistaken. The doors couldn’t open by themselves. A man from the side of a sinful world should open them.
If nobody answers this knock, allowing Live God to come in, He will leave the world for good.
The priest was running nervously up and down the room, as if he were crazy, grabbing the runes, rereading them and kissing his grandfather who was crying again but this time with happiness. Suddenly the priest stopped, he stood still and whispered:
“If nobody opens the gates to Live God, it’ll mean that people couldn’t bring His words through centuries and couldn’t save love in their hearts. This thousand of years after the exile from Paradise was a real test of faith. But who will open the door? Nobody except for my grandfather and a few priests on the far island doesn’t wait for the second advent. The grandfather is not counted. As for the priests, even if they were here, their arrogance would prevent them from believing that somebody else deciphered the runes. They would argue and lose precious time. Then, I should go.”
His face paled when he understood the responsibility that lay on him. Now it depends on him only whether Live God will come to the Earth to show the way to happiness, to return them to the lost paradise or not.
The priest started preparing everything he needed for a long way. His head was shaking as if he was trying to through some global thoughts from his head. The small temple was far away, behind blue mountains, in an arid desert, on the very world’s border. The way was long and difficult. From now on he had no right to lose even a minute.
The priest heard a timid knock at the door. There was a young peasant woman with swollen from tears eyes on the threshold. She was stretching her hands with her baby on to the priest. It was immediately clear for him that the child was terribly ill. The priest was about to cry with frustration. He was able to cure it but in this case he would lose precious time and half of his power. Now he couldn’t do without the latter. He needed it for rescuing of the whole world. He had no chance to help the child of a poor peasant woman.
The woman kept stretching her hands in supplication. And the priest took the child, cursing himself for his faint-heartedness.
“I’m too weak to fulfil the great aim, -- he thought, curing the child quickly. – I couldn’t refuse. The child would definitely die and the mother would be left alone with her grieve. I should have explained to the woman that if I will be on time, Live God will rescue us. But I couldn’t. My refusal would have haunted me till the rest of my life.”
He cured the child by morning. He quickly kissed the grandfather, bowed to his parents’ grave, to the image of God on the Earth and went out of the village with a rapid step. The words of the keeper sounded in his head: “Stairs to the sky start from the Earth. Listen attentively to these words and you will understand how angels are born”.


 The Temple
On the third day he met a dragon. The surroundings on the approach to the rocky mountains changed greatly. The forest seemed to have died out in the foothills. Even the singing of birds didn’t spoil the silence. Dusk was falling, the dragon’s dismal rolling far howl like dull peals of thunder was heard and the earth was shaking when he was tossing and turning among sharp stones. Everything live was scared to death. There were not an animal or a bird there. Even fast dragon-flies didn’t fly in the air. It was well-known that it’s better not to meet the dragon.
If the priest had had a choice, he would have walked round the dragon’s breeding ground. But he had no choice. To choose another way meant to make his way twice long. And then the whole way would loose the sense: the priest was late for the temple.
He went directly to a dark, deep stone valley in the mountains where the old dragon lived. The priest tried not to pay attention to the close howl now and he just set hopes upon Live God.
The priest was terribly frightened but the great goal was stronger than any fear. He was going forward stubbornly, still trembling with fear.
Suddenly, in the dark he heard a hard grumbling. The Earth shuddered and a gigantic hulk of being came into movement. The dragon smelt a man. Suddenly a great bulk that the priest considered a rock in a falling dusk rose to its full height, flashing with its golden scales. Breaking dry wood, this mass came up to the priest who was standing stock-still with fear. In a gleam of a lightning he managed to see an enormous head on a long thick neck, going somewhere into the darkness.
-- What I am seeing… -- roared the head in the true language of the Earth, -- A man!? – red huge eyes flashed and the priest was poured with a stinking breath.
-- Yes, I’m a man, -- whispered the priest. – Let me go away, dragon.
-- Should I let you go past? – the dragon raised his eyelids a little bit and again his dreadful bloody eyes flashed. – Where are you going?
-- You know well enough where I’m going, king of darkness. – the priest uttered uneasily. – Don’t detain me, let me go, I adjure you in the name of Live God.
-- I’m my own master and the master of others. Your pitiful spell neither touches nor influences me, priest. I’m myself the master of the world. I’m aware of where you are going and now you are under my power. I will let you go on condition that you bow to me, to my power and grandeur. I will be your friend, bow to me, priest.
The dragon’s head in the light of a full moon rose over the dark forest. His red eyes were sparkling proudly. The dragon rose to his full height. His golden and silver scales glittered in the moonlight, the Earth suffered from the weight of a huge body. His proud voice roared high in the air:
-- The whole world is mine! So bow to me, poor priest. The friendship with me will make you the richest and the noblest man on the Earth. You will not perceive your pitiful love but the power – the most valuable thing on the Earth!
-- No, dragon. The priest’s voice sounded softly, but there was no fear inside of him. – I will never bow to you. There’s nothing in your words that could attract me. You’ll give gold to me but you will take my dream. You will give power to me but you will deprive me of my soul. Everything that you give to people has the other side: fear and torments of conscience. So reserve your gifts for yourself and let me go the way to the true joy.
Everything came into movement. The earth shuddered. The dragon’s head dropped from the height close to the priest. The dreadful eyes sparkled again.
-- If you don’t want to take my gifts – I don’t care. Millions of people would take all I offer you without thinking, -- the roar gradually turned into an ingratiating whisper, -- what a fool you are, man. I offer you another choice, a choice that won’t be against your heart. You don’t care about yourself but other people do you? Well… You’ll bow to me now or I’ll kill you. And then Live God will never come to the Earth and all people, all creatures on this planet will belong to me. Nobody will open the door, fool, in case I kill you. Choose: to bow to me means to give me your soul, but the rest people will have a hope. Not to bow will mean to rescue yourself but others will suffer. You always want to die on a cross for the sake of others. This is your cross. Choose. If you bow, you’ll go to my kingdom. If you don’t fulfil it, others will have to sacrifice. Just choose…
The priest stood still, agonizingly musing over the dragon’s words. What could he choose? The answer automatically aroused in his heart. Certainly, he should die in order to Live God to come here and people see the light… But wait… There is something wrong here. The dragon’s voice sounds too sweet and ingratiating.
You know who this dragon is. In the runes he has a name of devil, Satan.
But actually, there no darkness, it exists due to the absence of the light. The darkness exists owing to fraud. When the dragon tells lies, he tells that of his, as he himself is lie. And now he has chosen a very artful way. The priest wouldn’t think of any other question for even a second.
The fate of all people can’t depend on this dragon’s whim. Live God can’t depend on the desire or unwillingness of lie.
-- No! – all of a sudden the priest screamed out into the cunning red eyes. – No! You are a liar, dragon. You are a liar and the father is a liar. I won’t bow to you. You are an old sophist, playing with the truth at his own sweet will. You are unable to change something in this world. Actually you don’t exist. You are just a mirror reflection of our fears, lies and depraved desires. You live in our hearts for contrast, for distinguishing good from evil. Live God will appear on the Earth and it doesn’t matter whether you want it or not, as He is God! And you are a mere child fear. The keeper used to tell me:
“A child, brought face to face with darkness and loneliness, trembles with fear in a dark room. He hides his head under a blanket and the dragon grows up inside of him. Than he whispers ingratiatingly in man’s ear and deceives him: “This is your world. You shouldn’t care others. You should define for yourself what good is for you and what evil is. Become stronger, beat first and show the whole world that you are your own master and the master of your destiny. Prove that you are not a complete failure. Everything that is good for you only is good. Become cruel and rich. Only then you’ll get rid of me, your child fear, which was born in the moments of lack of faith in your parents, who represent divine God on the Earth. ”—these are the words of our Keeper about your birth in our hearts. Lake of faith results in fear. Fear results in a sin. A sin results in darkness. Those who make their business in secret in the darkness don’t want the light to be and they want to conceal their business. So they get into your trap for good. But soon Light will come to the Earth and people will drive you away as they will distinguish your fraud in the light.
Thus let me go! You are powerless to stop me, you are powerless even to kill me otherwise you committed it at once. You have power only over one who is afraid as you are his very fear. You have power over one who tells lies as you are his very lie.
I’m not afraid of you and I don’t believe you. You don’t exist for me. You are nothing for me! Now let me go. Spread your wings and fly away. Live God will soon come here. Light will come.


The tension became unbearable and the priest fell unconscious to moss and sharp stones.
It was morning when he regained consciousness. The dawn painted the tops of the mountains into pink colors. Something had changed in the world, it became clearer and more transparent. Birds were singing happily, golden bees were buzzing, flying from one flower into another. The dragon vanished, the frightening dark tones vanished. Now the mountains were bathing in sunshine.
 Everything became clear and understandable. The truth filled the priest’s heart and he started to perceive the visible world all over again. Before, he had seen the reflection of this world, the reflection that had been too much distorted. This distorting mirror dropped out of his eyes. Now he saw the essence of the world as a pure God’s creation, fruit of His love.
The priest continued his way, going further and further into the rocky mountains, enjoying his new perception and new bright thoughts. He had little time left.
He, being covered with snow, wondered through mountain roads for two days. For two more days he descended high mountains, constantly recounting hours and minutes.
Then he reached a vast red desert. It was a lifeless land of sand and stones. There was the border of the world behind the desert. A small temple was standing there. The mortal had nothing to do there.
Last day he stagged and toiled himself along the desert as if he had been drunk. The broiling sun deprived him of the rest of his strengths. If he hadn’t studied in the school of priests he would have lied here as a dried mummy and would have frightened those who decided to follow his way.
Now he thought about nothing. Before, he had imagined his meeting with Life God without cease. Now he didn’t care.
He stagged and sometimes he ceased counting and rubbed his eyes with his hand. At that moment in the torment he was looking at the sands and red cliffs on the horizon.
High in the sky a griffin was flying with the aim of eating the priest. He was waiting when the stranger would stop struggling and would fall on the sand. Still the man was stubbornly going, approaching to the world’s border and the cliff with a temple on the top.
Everything in the world, good and bad, comes to its end. The priest’s way ended. The proximity to the temple gave him new strengths. In the evening of the tenth day the priest came up to the cliff. The world’s border phosphoresced behind the cliff. It was a high wall going up and far. It was a fantastic sight. What was behind the wall was impossible to make out.
The night was coming rapidly.
Full white moon, feminine origin, occupied half of the sky, lighting the cliff and the desert with its lifeless silver light. An eerie silence fell up on the scene. The desert with its lighting wall was full of moonlight shadows. This scene frightened the priest. He stood still and forgot the purpose of his being there.
A smooth flat cliff rose in the middle of the stone ground. He saw carved steps led to the very top where the temple stood.
I reached! -- it came into the priest’s mind. His thoughts were brief and incomprehensible. His heart was throbbing. He was shivering from top to toe as in fever.
Suddenly he heard a knock. In dead silence, silver light, a great deal of stones and shadows, from the small temple dull knocks were heard. They sounded stronger and stronger. The land started to shake and the priest could feel his heart beating in time with the knocks.
The priest struggled to make a few steps. Then he sat down holding his breast. It seemed that in a second his heart would crash his breast and would drop out onto the send to meet the same strong knock.
He had to go. A step, another step. He clenched his teeth, went and then run.
When he entered the temple there was nothing but an iron door in the east-side. Gray walls were covered with the columns from the runes. The knocks from the door became stronger.
-- I will see God! Love will return to the Earth!
The priest pushed the door. The knocks ceased and the door opened as if hadn’t been closed for thousand years. The priest closed his eyes and crashed down his knees with his hands lying forward.
 In absolute silence hours or instance were spent. But nothing happened; only his fingers were set against something cold and smooth. The priest stood up and opened his eyes slowly. He saw a thin tramp, smiling inanely, with his eyes wild and wide open in bright light in front of him. Only two minutes later the priest perceived the thing. It was he himself in front of him. There was a large mirror on the whole wall. Just a mirror!
It was impossible!
In a moment he burst into laugh, pointing his finger at his reflection and the reflection, in turn, was laughing at him. Then the priest sat down on the floor, embracing his head with his trembling heads. It’s strange enough that he didn’t go crazy at that moment.
He spent the whole day in the temple, looking at his reflection and trying to explain all that took place but in vain. His understandable world collapsed in a moment and the reality was too absurd to accept it. Nothing happened that day. The priest decided to come back home.

He stagged along the vast desert for two weeks. He should have seen mountains; instead sands kept surrounding him all the time. He was wandering aimlessly along the desert, not noticing anything around. He desired to go away from the collapsed hope. He suffered from faints and he fell losing his consciousness, then he stood up again and kept on going, leaving his bloody track on sharp stones. His face changed out of all recognition: it was swelled and left only two chinks for tearing eyes and one for his bloodless lips.
He spoke to himself in the minutes when he was in his right mind:
-- Maybe I crossed the border of the world and that’s why I can’t reach the mountains. Maybe I just died and I don’t remember the moment of death. If we can’t recall the moment of birth, why should we remember death? The Keeper said: “It’s stupid to think that death bring knowledge in itself. One looks for Paradise in his heart, and if one hasn’t found God in life, he won’t find Him after death.”
“I haven’t found…”
The priest sighed heavily, wiped his eyes from sweat and staged further, keeping on his talk to himself: “Could everybody come to the temple, open the door and see their reflection? Could everybody look at the mirror?”
-- Yes, everybody could, -- said somebody in the Keeper’s voice. – But not everyone could reach this mirror. Not everybody would go there.
The priest, bewildered, suddenly stopped and gave a puzzled look around. Nobody was there. He sighed and continued his way, mumbling.

Later on he had a vision.
He woke up next morning and couldn’t recognize the surrounding world. He saw flowers up to the very horizon. Fantastic birds were singing different tunes.
The priest got used to mirages. He wiped his eyes and began to wait, when the vision would disappear.
Still the vision didn’t vanish.
In a blue sky all of a sudden a dazzling star flashed. Than as it approached, it grew into a familiar sparkling figure of a man.
The priest sobbed spasmodically and ran to meet the star man radiating white light, and he, in turn, ran too.
Having run a few steps, the priest stumbled and fell onto the ground. When he stood up he saw the same barkhans. Now the vision vanished, let the reality to take the place. The priest continued to go, smiling bitterly and waving his hands. He at once understood that the star man resembled him. But he decided not to think about it. Thus, full of doubts and contradictions, disappointed and devastated, he finally arrived at a place where people lived.

There was a small village with houses with flat roofs, half covered with sand, on the border of the desert. The wind carried dust in empty streets. A hungry foal cried somewhere in the courts.
At the very first house he was met by a small girl. She ran up to the priest and her eyes flashed with joy.
-- We have waited for you. And you are here. Good afternoon, God!
The priest smiled sadly.
-- Girl, you are mistaken. I’m not the man you’ve waited. I’m a simple man. God will come some other time.
-- Mother! Father! People! God have come!
People began to run out of their houses.
“The biggest illusion is the illusion of one’s ego!” – said somebody in the priest’s voice and at that moment he understood everything!
He perceived the true power of love. He perceived, that love make man God, God a man. All the light that had settled in his heart drop by drop combined in the whole and became him. The tramp in rags was waiting for running to him people and was giving them a warm, bright smile. Now he knew what to say to them. Now he knew the most precise and direct way to the happiness, the way to the lost Paradise.
He saw the future as clearly as the past. He saw himself standing on the mountain, surrounded by his students. He saw lots of happy faces and tears of happiness, thousand of eyes full of hope. He saw how he went, surrounded by enthusiastic, exultant crowd and cried:
-- People, everything will go away! Sadness and fear will disappear; cold of loneliness will go away.
Everything will go away.
But love is eternal as only love is life. You know it, you know it in the depths of your souls. As you are not children of the Earth, looking at the sky with greedy eyes, but children of the heavens, living on this planet temporarily.
Looking at the starry sky, you look at your home! – cried he in a strained voice and the crowd surrounding him raged exulted. Everything was good but his hands were tied with a rope behind his back. And his face was in blood…

Was it or it never took place? But God couldn’t be killed, He is the very Life. It seems to me that He wanders somewhere on the Earth, still misunderstood and not accepted. He wanders and knocks at our hearts, appealing for being merciful to Him!
He can assume different aspects: the aspect of an old woman near a shop, of a neighbor, of a tramp in metro. He can be in everybody who needs our help.
He, in any appearance, can knock at the door of your house any time. Be careful! Not drive Him away!
Otherwise you will be surprised when die.