At the tallest peak of the tallest mountain overlooking the
village, sat the Ancient Master of Truth. When one turned thirteen, the village
expected you to climb to the summit and learn the Truth from him. If you
refused, you were shunned.
It took me five days, but I got there. I gave my offering to
him.
“O wise one, what sacred truth do you have?”
He paused from smoking his pipe.
“None.”
A wind blew.
“What? I climb for days, risking my life, and you have no
Truth?”
“Welcome to adulthood. It doesn’t improve.”
Only later did I understand.
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