As I wake up, last night’s memories still linger in the back of my skull. Some images peer back at me, as I lay my hand beside me to find an empty bed, cold, nothing but her smell left behind.

  There’s not even a word or small token of goodbye. Is it really worth it to leave behind my relationship with Clarity and to forage for this gnawing feeling as if something is missing with(in) me? I haven’t slept well, but I wonder, who would, if one dares to enter the cave voluntarily.

  I don’t know whether my preparations are enough, alas there is so much I’ll never know but the abbot in all his wisdom, did tell me one thing:

  ‘‘Son, in this world there is so much to see, experience and touch, as long as this doesn’t penetrate beyond your mind, into your body, your heart, there simply isn’t any worth or merit.”

  So far, without any doubt, I haven’t found that yet. I have my joys, fears and tears but sadly they are mostly in the language of my mind. Yes, there is some worth to experience all of that too but it won’t make the experience of my life meaningful, purposeful and heartfelt.

  I have read in some book of my temple’s library, that it is only about me, what I feel. How can that be, when this earth is so full of life?

  Slowly one tear wells up in the corner of my eye. Gravity demands its toll and I let go, as it slides over my cheek onto my lap. The sky’s crystal clear and yet I prepare myself to enter a dark and cold cave, alone. Why should I find what so few people seem to find these days and what actually am I looking for?

  Now that I think of it, yesterday a few words spoken in the inn did catch my attention. An inn, where all hopeful aspirants seem to coagulate, as if simply being there is enough to prove one’s valour and wisdom.

  The words were: ‘‘Only in silence help might one day be able to reach you.” Why silence? Why can’t it be a sound, the rain or the howling of the wind? Why not, sellers on a busy market, a harlot? Why silence… I don’t get it.

  Next he explained: ‘‘The cave has been revered as a holy place, of strong energetic presence since it has been found or rediscovered. Many people have resided in the temple next to the entrance, which has been built over the years.

  The entrance has never been closed off with a gate or door; It’s always beckoning to enter the test of life, the entrance wide open.”

  To which I replied: ‘‘That is kind of weird if it’s truly such a holy place. There ought to be temple guards, wayfarers, bandits and other such rascals.”

  ‘‘None, even if there ever were, stayed for long. The cave can take care of itself. It will always define mankind by being a liminal guardian of humans true to their nature.”

  ‘‘Oh, how I long to go in and finally answer the call I haven’t been able to fulfil so far. There can’t be only darkness inside of me. I am loathe of fearing myself.

  Some kind of light must exist, be always there, something or someone that can help me in such a holy place.”

  He looked at me with an impenetrable smile: ‘‘If there were no solution, this cave wouldn’t exist. Neither you or I would exist. Nothing would.”

  Enough musing, I have to leave the daylight behind and test myself to the core. Leaving my room and heading down the oaken stairs, I pass through the antechamber waving goodbye to my drinking companions of the other nights.

  As they see me with my gear they begin clapping and whistling, the parting ritual of everyone that finally goes out into the cave.

  The innkeeper presses an apple into my hands, as my last meal on the surface. The old man of yesterday comes forward out of a dark corner and takes a perfectly round black globe and presses it into my hand.

  He looks me deeply in the eyes, leaving a weird imprint on my mind, a very strong impression of a feeling intangible.

  As the globe touches me, weird sensations jolt through my body, as if my flesh were shaking, my fingers lengthening and shortening, or is it simply my blood running through my veins? What am I getting myself into?

  I take the road out of the courtyard as I take my first bite of the apple and head onto a path surrounded by trees. I don’t have far to walk to the entrance.

  On the path appears a young deer, walking from one border to the other, slowly and gracefully. Its feet brush past a thorny shrub unscathed.

  A deep serenity overcomes me as I walk towards the caves’ entrance. Before the opening on the left lies the big stone with offerings to the spirit(s) of the cave. On the upper arch are engraved these words in simple golden letters:

  Ach true yehedest vanu at ar sophia.

  Te yere avundest torah mara yest!

  I repeat the words out loud, how I assume they should be pronounced because I have no clue what these words might mean. By repeating the words, I pronounce a vibration that resonates deeply within me.

  My heart feels ticklish, a strange sensation. Something in me tells me to always trust this warm ticklish sensation.

  Although I don’t know which language this is, I suppose it’s old and yet I can feel the words. Before I enter the mouth of the cave, I declare that I wish to enter the mysteries.

  I place the earring from Clarity, a mother of pearl earring, on the stone, while whispering: ‘‘Clarity, I thank you for the consolidation given in your warm embrace, our two bodies almost inseparable.

  When I return it is to spend my time with you. I can’t blame you for leaving the way you did, I understand and forgive you. With this, I honour the cycle of love and life.”.

  Whenever I try to say another word, only more tears begin streaming down my face. I just put my hand on the stone when all of a sudden, the stone answers:

  ‘‘I accept your offering for you give from the heart. You are prepared to cast yourself into the darkness, just so you might learn what you can’t, in the world of those who think they can see.

  Before you continue I wish to give you some pieces of advice. Your eyes will be useless, even when sources of light do exist in the cave. Your senses will only get you so far.

  There exists something within you, that can be trusted. Have you already found that? If not, your bones will feed the cave well. The cave thrives on adventurers.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  There is an artisan that only works with bones in there, to pass the time. When you meet him, Rough Bottom sends his regards.

  You will not die of thirst or hunger in there, if you are willing to share with the creatures of the cave, most of them might turn out to be allies and happy for the company.

  I myself prefer the fresh air here, the light and darkness and all those fools seeking deliverance from themselves. Their behaviour they simply choose not to accept for what it is and all repercussions this has on their experience of living.

  Now I wish you good luck, not on getting out, but on finding yourself.”

  With that, silence descends back on me and my tears ebb away, replaced by a deep calm. I toss the core of the apple behind me. As I take one last look at my precious surroundings, thanking Rough Bottom, I step into the cave, away from the light, from Clarity, the life I knew.

  With every step into the darkness, my eyes slowly fail to see what is in front of them. Noises from the outside, like the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds and the buzzing of bees die away, getting replaced by nothing but the noises my feet make and my clothes as they slide past each other.

  As I descend further, my heartbeat becomes more pronounced and apparent. It’s not very warm in the cave but neither very cold.

  My hands brush past sharp protrusions, cavities and wet stones. In the last few minutes, I’ve knocked my head at least ten times. I better begin moving more cautiously.

  My ears get accustomed to the silence of the cave, as I notice drops of water, stones brushing aside and a soft murmuring sound further on. There is even a tugging of wind as it flows past me to another opening out there.

  So far I don’t feel as if the air is missing but who knows what’s around the corner. As I hit my knee against yet another protruding stone, I feel that the passage is splitting in two and that I need to make my first real choice!

  Now what, I can’t act as if the cave would be one smooth passage with no twists and bends, no that would be too easy and not even a challenge, but what choice do I make?

  There must have been many before me and many more after me, needing to make their first choice. What might they have chosen? As I feel both sides with more attention I notice many scratch marks and differing signs and maybe even names and texts etched into the rock.

  There are so many that, even if I could decipher their meanings I feel they won’t be of much use.

  There are fools, who always go right, simply because this is the fastest way out. Always right, because they are right-handed and that is where all the winners are or because some weird book says so.

  I will go left, not because fewer people might have chosen left but simply because I know, left is right. Keeping on choosing like this, I’m slowly descending further underground.

  Water begins streaming past me. At some splits, I choose the right side, because right is evidently the right choice.

  I am sure that many curious folks might ask why all of a sudden right is the right choice, to which I’d respond, my spleen knows, it just knows.

  Some person slightly to the left of the one just asking, would very likely ask me, whether I’ve ever seen my spleen, to know what it might tell me, I’d just answer, don’t you feel it too sometimes?

  An unabating itching feeling but only the mind is capable to communicate of its existence and how to deal with it. No matter what you do, the feeling doesn’t disappear nor does the lulling speech of the mind ever stop.

  As if these two renegades are meant not to understand each other.

  *TOCK*

  It seems as if my head has run into a large stone. A warm liquid runs down my face spilling onto the ground.

  I’m not very bothered as I duck my head and move on. Not very long afterwards a buzzing begins to sound in my head.

  A very slow throbbing pulse, different from my heart-beat, runs down my spine. With every step the buzzing grows louder, drowning out all other sounds, while the pulses get stronger beginning to hinder my movement.

  All of a sudden the darkness around me falls away and a wide-open plane appears before me, the sun about to rise, nothing but the steppe around me.

  Gold-brown grass is swaying in the soft wind. A crimson red sky without clouds, the suns’ tip is just appearing on the horizon. No living animals as far as my eyes can see.

  This vibrant and alive nature feels like a hallucination after that seemingly endless darkness so I take a moment to sit down and enjoy this beautiful view.

  My forehead and hands aren’t bruised anymore nor are they bloody. The buzzing has also disappeared. The sun’s rays warm me to the core, a welcome relief after the cold.

  As I want to stand up, I notice perplexedly, that my whole body is transfixed on the ground, with no muscle able to move. I hope I won’t stay trapped here on this plane, at least in the cave I’m able to move forward ever onward.

  The confusion doesn’t stop there. For hours, as I am forced to stare at nothing but the wide-open steppe and the rising sun, a myriad of bodily sensations wash over me.

  From an itching scalp to automatically twitching eyelids, sleeping limbs and a foggy head space. Where might that foggy head-space come from? I don’t know or do I?

  * I... I... <0>... EYE..? *

  The sun continues to rise and is nearing its highest point. My hands can’t still or calm any one of those itches. Usually though, my hands only make it worse, this also my spleen knows.

  As the sun touches the apex I prepare myself for a long day alone with myself. By myself, I mean me, my thoughts, my sensations, my emotions, my body and a certain something I rather not look too closely at. Anyone who tells me that he is alone? What a joke!

  What though if I would look at it? What would I see? Can I even look at it? This it... AM I part of that same it, is it only around me, am I separate or am I connected to the core, just like everything else?

  Is it as complex as I make it out to be? When does this become tangible, if that’s even possible? My body is tangible, just like everything else besides this. It...

  What a weird word to speak of something as glorious as that. This life-giving, this sacred whisper of... What really? I don’t have an easy nor complex answer ready, so let’s leave it at that.

  The cave and this weird plane that comes out of nowhere are already mind-boggling enough.

  For a moment I step out of my head and there comes a huge black warbling, rippling ball into my field of view and it is nearing me ever closer.

  I Can’t Move! Oh no, I can’t save myself. It’s almost there. As it touches me, swallows me whole, everything around me is plunged back into the darkness of the cave and its eerie quietness.

  I take a moment to recover my senses not that my eyes are of much use anyway. I am back again with seeing through all my other senses and thinking with this lovely brain of mine.

  I can even move my body, what a miracle. I was quite unaware how much of a gift that is.

  I am not aware whether I have gone further while I was away on the grassy planes. Might I have missed one split on my path? Would I have made the right choice?

  I must go on anyway as walking back isn’t an option either. If I had a pickaxe I might go down but to where and how much time would that even take? I can’t even say this is an impasse because I am still here, alive.

  Before I got into the cave, I assumed my eyes would get used to the darkness and slowly build up a night vision but no, it is completely dark.

  If I recall rightly, I bashed my head, so it’s probably better to get on my belly. I move forward like a lizard. Like this, I move forward even slower. From time to time I touch the space above me but the ceiling keeps on being low, thus I trudge on for ages.

  I don’t know why but I begin humming to fill this vast ever-present darkness. Out of the dark vastness comes a response I did not expect, a high-pitched squeal, a warm sound to my ear.

  I move forward relentlessly towards the sound, that engulfs me and fills my heart in corresponding sensations traversing all over my body.

  As I swoon and melt into the sound I become aware of slight variations in the tonality, all at the same time. There must be multiple sources that crack open my mysterious heart, my first companions.

  Who or what might they be? As I follow the curve of the passage I hear noises that resemble greetings and I answer: “Hello there, whoever you are.”