The circle is almost complete now. The end of a cycle. Those silent watchers to be silent no more. The acolyte aware of a significant sign determining the end of a desperate passage. The end when The Acolyte believes; convince itself the curse has finally been lifted now by an outside force. When it truth it is the Acolyte's own mind which created that limitation and adjusted its own reality by perverse thought patterns. It changed its own path of fate by its mind alone. But was convinced it was from elsewhere.But that circle is complete. The simple garb of the simple peasant discarded. He stands alone in the centre of that circle. Gazing at the path travelled around and around. Spying the rut in the soil, he sinks to the ground in shame. Aware then of the mistake. The gloom of the morning finally lifting and the shining sun hangs there before him above the mountainside. The shrill of the distant eagle breaks him from his day dream. There atop the towering peaks is a regal majesty. The former Acolyte ... no more ... still without a name or an identity still; uncaring; he gazes at the yellow horizon then. Knowing his future must still be written. His is the blank script still. But with certainty, he knows that no bad omen will be absorbed by those pages.
Behind him, The Watcher smiles ... assigned 'guardian' to the child inside the man. The timeless and ageless spirit within that mortal. The Watcher welcoming the realisation made by he ... for it was beyond The Watcher's standing to force change onto the mortal. It would be however, no matter how many times the horse was led to the water. No matter how bad circumstances became for the mortal. No matter how much pain he was seen to be suffering. The Watcher could not intervene. He would teach by dreams and by scant moments of clarity reached by the mortal. When, in those moments, their minds would merge.
Grateful now the mortal could move on from that plateau. Away from that self inflicted rite pf passage. That was gone now. Until the next time, because the Watcher was certain the child inside the man would come this way again ... in some other form. It had before and it would again. This it knew, was his brother's ways and means of discipline ... its own choice to venture to the worlds of matter and forms of thought ... its own library of experiences to choose from in those times of study and reference ...
