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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #2297891
An old hermit asks a young man the most important questions.
The curtains to the cavern stood before me, beckoning me forward.
I had travelled several hundred miles to meet the Eastern master enshrined within. Now, standing before the entrance, I hesitated to lift aside the curtains. I felt unworthy to go in, to stand before the famed hermit.
But, I told myself, I have spent too much time coming to go back now. Flicking the curtains away, I strode into the room.
And saw nothing.
I had expected a fire. Candles. Light of some kind. There was nothing.
Wait.
Not nothing.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw a faint glimmer in front of me. Feeling my way forward, I came to another small room, where the hermit sat meditating among candles. Seeing me, he spoke:
“What do you want?”
I bowed, my forehead touching the cold stone floor of the cavern.
“Master, I seek guidance. My name is Kyudosha; I recently lost all my possessions to a fire. How should I rebuild my life?”
“Who are you and what do you want? If you cannot answer, then leave.”
“Who am I?” I felt frustrated and cheated by his curt manner. “You must be joking. I am Kyudosha.”

“It is no joke!” said the master fiercely, starting so quickly the breeze from his sleeve extinguished one of the candles. Turning to relight it, he repeated, “Who are you? What do you want?”

Seeing I was to get no answer, I left angrily. But as I was passing the curtain, the soft fabric brushed by cheek, and I suddenly realized what he meant.
Who am I as a person?
What did I want for my life?

Returning, I bowed low to the master, saying only one thing:
“Thank you.”
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