Chapter 2

As Borner rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he marveled at the lack of prickly awareness in his limbs. His knees did not ache nor did the back molar on his right side that had been throbbing on and off for a week. Whatever he had dreamed was lost when he awoke, but he was certain that he had been restless. Nature called.

Borner turned to the black column that did not appear to have moved and voiced his request. A wall on the opposite side slid open enough for a man to pass through. Inside was a sculpted vase standing straight out of the living rock. After tending to his ablutions, he thrust his hands into the sand pit on the side, a custom he had experienced on one of his journeys. Only this time the sand was unusually warm and seemed to flow around his fingers like a viscous gel. The sensation was pleasant. When Borner withdrew his hands, his skin was almost glowing, his nails were polished bright with rounded edges and all his hangnails were gone.

“By the words of Arimas,” Borner said, quoting his master, “The ways of the world are not the ways the world need be. Let the ways be examined and let them instruct us.” He returned to the main room, still glancing at his hands.

“What is the treaty with Arimas?” Borner asked, addressing his host.

“Arimas came here to explore, seeking fame and booty,” the column said. “He did find something far more valuable before he left. What do you bring from the upper world to trade and exchange?”

Borner did not know how to respond to the request. He did not even know the creature’s name although he had shared hospitality. Too many thoughts were bouncing around his skull but the focus, if he could manage to maintain it, had to be Arimas: He was the crux of the puzzle. Arimas, the person, was obviously not the man of the legends of which the scrolls spoke. He realized that he was pacing and not progressing. Without a better starting place, he began, “I am Borner. Who am I addressing?”

The creature seemed to rumble from deep inside its rocky soul instead of answering. Suddenly feeling dry in his mouth, Borner bowed his head for the sake of politeness and fetched himself another cup of water. He drank deeply three times again, marveling in the tastes of sweetness as the water passed over his tongue.

The rumbling stopped and the creature rose from its perch then settled back down onto its perch. “The length and depth of my true naming is beyond your senses as I have just demonstrated. Arimas called me ‘The Rock.’ What do you have to trade?”

Borner glanced at his travel sack, knowing its meager contents, and wondering what items he had to trade with such a being. Nonetheless, if Arimas had come adventuring and survived, there was a way open for himself as well. His mouth was still flaky dry. Borner walked back to the water niche and drowned his thirst. The water surprised him, tasting different again from the last time he drank only a moment ago.

Borner returned to his few belongings. He opened his travel sack and dumped all its contents on the polished stone floor. He picked up his change of clothes and stuffed them back in the sack. The rest he spread out across the floor as if he was presenting at a shop in the bazaar. The being dismounted from its quartz bed and trundled over to the display.

A fan of fine threads of crystal emerged from the body of the creature and delicately brushed over all Borner’s inadequate offerings. The creature began rumbling again, a deep basso sound that made Borner’s organs vibrate with sympathy in his rib cage. There was rhythm that he could not grasp.

Another wave of fatigue washed over him, forcing him to sit down, resting his back against the wall. He promised himself that he was only closing his eyes for a moment but when he awoke, his muscles were knotted enough to let him know that a goodly amount of time had passed. He made use of the marble vase and drank several cups of water to wash down his travel rations.

The creature was back on his bench and rumbling quietly.

Scanning his goods, Borner catalogued what the Rock had chosen. The sewing packet was open but only the thread appeared to be missing at first. Looking closer, the metal needles were still there but the fine herring bone needle was also gone. A small sheepskin parchment was missing and most of his substantial medicinal bundle had been removed. Calculating all the items, Borner realized that the creature wanted items that grew in the sun.

His sack of refined flour looked strange. Reaching down to pick it up, Borner was taken aback by how heavy the pouch was. Peering inside he saw uncut gems the size of couder nuts, as big around as touching fingertips of his index finger and thumb. He tried to breathe normally as he looked over the rubies, sapphires, diamonds and emeralds. More than a king’s ransom, he was holding enough ransom for every king that ever lived, he guessed with a momentary flush of greed.

“Your trove was more than satisfying,” the Rock said. “If you agree with the exchange, then our trading is done.”

“I agree with the trade,” Borner said, trying not to betray any quavering in his voice. There was more he wanted. “May I inquire of Arimas?”

“The child always wishes to know more about the parent,” the Rock said. “Do you seek truth or do you seek understanding?”

“Are they not the same?” Borner asked.

“Truths without context are useless and understanding without truths to anchor it is no better than idle speculation.”

“Thank you for clarifying the difference,” Borner said, scratching his head. “What do these two concepts have to do with Arimas?”

“Everything that you are seeking,” the Rock said. “Most of the truths about Arimas are not relevant to you, but you do not know which ones. I could inundate you with all of them and let you attempt to choose the most relevant or I could produce only the ones I believe you need.”

Borner had suspected a test of acuity with the first conundrum but now, he was sure. “If I choose the truths and then I choose the wrong facts, I will be led to false conclusions. I will not gain understanding and will mislead myself further from understanding. However, if I choose the understandings, then I will have no context of why the meanings that you are giving me are valid. You have given me a false choice.”

The Rock rumbled a moment. “So, the parent did teach the child.” The creature went silent for a moment. “Arimas arrived here fully formed but very narrow. Much of his potential had not been touched, only the basest attributes. Cleverness is not a sustitute for truth or understanding. He traded the ignition of his potential for a promise to teach true understanding in the upper world, a promise he made with the very bones of his fragile body. Your presence confirms that he kept his word.”

“I have lived my life...” Borner said and then stopped himself, his head whirling. Arimas was given true understanding of this world and the one above? Borner had only concluded a day or so ago that the scrolls were less than true and that his life of teaching them had been a lie. He had been so sure that he had fumbled from being fundamentally right to being utterly wrong about the meaning of life. Arimas taught the truth? The lie was not a lie?

Something was amiss in the Rock’s declaration. Borner was willing to admit the scrolls did contain many truths with a small ‘t’. However, the Rock made the claim there was a large ‘T’ truth in the scrolls of Arimas, a ‘truth and understanding’ in the Rock’s words. After two decades of poring over the scrolls, both studying and teaching them, Borner had not fathomed such a universal and he had been looking.

“Arimas was obscure in his writings,” Borner said. “Perhaps I missed this true understanding or perhaps Arimas was too clever, as you said.”

“I sense your anguish,” the Rock said. “Your confusion is your assumption that the true understanding was in the words Arimas wrote. Truth is far too versatile to be reduced to a line of print or a scroll of words. True understanding is an action. Did not the words of Arimas spur you to act every day? This was the mission that Arimas pledged with his bones.”

Borner uncrossed his arms and let them hang at his side. His spine was straight, and his legs were pillars holding up the entire frame proudly. The words of the Rock were confirming. His life had not been a lie after all, but the reason for his learning seems to have had another purpose of which he had been ignorant. The answer had been so obvious that generations, including his own, had overlooked it. How many times had he and others declared “deeds, not creeds” and like mothers chastising their children proclaimed, “actions speak louder than words?” These truths were lost in the jumble of all the other truths.

His jaw dropped as he realized that the Rock had just used him as an example of truth without context, understanding without anchoring truths, and finally true understanding. He felt like a young novice again, discovering the first great words of the scrolls again. This master had just demonstrated, using Borner as the example, that words are the tools one uses to attain true understanding. But the words are only tools, not truth in and of themselves.

The image of the mystical Temple of Arimas in his head shifted and became a coherent whole. All the stories, laws, and explanations realigned from categories stretching out in different directions into a standing structure that fit together. How had he missed it, studying and teaching all those years? Borner felt whole as well yet overwhelmed at the same time. He smiled, bringing his hand up to wipe his forehead when he whacked the side of his head with the sack of gems he had momentarily forgotten.

He took a hard look at the sack of gems. Another uneasy concern made Borner squint. If Arimas had been charged with bringing the scrolls to the upper world, what would be his task beyond these baubles?

“What did I trade beyond the items of my kit?”

“The promise made by Arimas has endured and has brought his child back to me,” the Rock said. “The promise now holds down into your bones as well. The child is already endowed with learning and understanding that Arimas lacked when he arrived. With your potential, you may bring the upper world closer to the River of Life.”

Borner wanted to feel flattered, but an intuition held him back. Too much had been left unsaid and the absence was beginning to alarm him. Not even sure that the rule of propriety demanded he acknowledge the proclamation with thanks, he chose to bow his head instead. He allowed himself a deep, shuddering breath.

“You have already comprehended that truth is embedded in actions,” the Rock said. “You have the power to act. You have the learning to choose your actions as well. What is holding you back?”

“Is there a god?” Borner asked.

The Rock laughed with a rumbling growl. “Arimas asked if I was a god. If there is a god, then the god is beyond the senses of mortal beings. Mortals cannot comprehend the immortal. Pray that there is a god for if there is not, then mortals must act as they believe the god would act. Who could live up to such a high standard?

“Yet, when there is no god or gods, mortals often conclude that they are the center of the world. They become their own gods. Like a king who claims that he holds the power of life or death over the heads of his subjects, self-worship leads only to destruction. No mortal should take upon themselves the right to take another’s life; yet, like the destroyers of the temples of Arimas, the lesson is easily discarded. Death of innocents follows. Always death. I ask again, who could live up to such a high standard?”

“Not I,” Borner said.

“Nor I,” the Rock said. “Nonetheless, you cannot use your humility as an excuse not to try. Arimas raised you. Did he not teach you the same lesson?”

Borner nodded his head in response. “What he taught has been stripped of all meaning. The Comoran, the people up there, killed all Arimas’s children. Thousands of us. I am tired of trying. I almost wish the god, if the god exists, would strike me down and rid me of my mourning and misery.”

“You live, though,” the Rock said. “The children died believing that you, the receptacle of all that Arimas taught, would take up their voice. You could not save them, yet you can save another. They did not die hoping to burden you; they died hoping that their mortality would encourage and inspire you to continue.”

“The pain is almost too much to bear,” Borner said. “How can I?”

“You have named your challenge, Borner, child of Arimas. This worthy challenge is yours to answer alone. Our time together has come to an end. Remain here until I return,” the Rock said. “You cannot approach the River of Life without dying. When I return, we will depart.” With that statement, the Rock trundled to the door, which opened and closed behind him.

As Borner repacked his travel sack, he did his best to hide his newfound wealth. He ate half of his journey rations of salted tack and drank down more water with the cup. He replenished his canteen with the water as well. He sat down with his back resting against the wall again when the weariness rolled over him and his eyelids failed him. He slept.

When Borner awoke, the Rock was standing just a bit in front of him. Between them was a dark stone bowl filled with the red/yellow steaming liquid from the river nearby.

“Take the bowl,” the Rock said. “The living river will give you light through the dark passages. Follow me.”

Borner shouldered his pack. As he stepped through the doors, the blast of heat from the river and its stench immediately assaulted Borner’s senses. He had dipped his kerchief in the water well and bound it across his face in hope of beating back the stench. He followed the Rock in another direction across the red desert with black shards, picking up several thumb-sized pieces as a remembrance. They turned left before reaching the shore and began to climb between rows of stalagmites. The air began to change, becoming less corrosive.

“This is where I must stop,” the Rock said. “Continue on this path, deviating neither left nor right, and you will return to the surface, Borner child of Arimas. Send me your child when you have something to trade.”

“Where are you sending me?” Borner asked with tears in his eyes. “Are you a prophet?”

The rumbling rumble echoed throughout the space. “I am a teacher, just as you have been, just as Arimas was instructed to be,” The Rock said. “Surely now that you can hold a drop of the River of Life in your hand you can grasp that we are both the same in some fundamental definition of life. I am sending you back to your kind.”

Borner stared at the Rock for a moment longer hoping that the creature would speak more. When the silence rang in his ears, Borner turned to the path and climbed. For hours he followed the winding path, crossing jagged ridges of rock and dodging dripping stalactites that crowded his path. Occasionally he would see strange tracks cross the sand of his path, but he did not stop to investigate.

The surrounding air began to change again and Borner knew he was rising close to the surface. The glow in his bowl was starting to fade as well, making him anxious. He redoubled his pace.