Mystic-Part One

Ayan gradually regained his consciousness. He looked at the familiar sight of his hand-drawn paintings and his uncle Samuel sitting beside him, looking a little sullen.

"You're finally awake," Samuel said, his voice soft yet tinged with concern.

Aunt Tsering came in with a glass of tepid water mixed with powdered herbs and mildly laced with honey. Ayan drank the bitter yet slightly sweet medicine without so much as a frown on his face.

Aunt Tsering sternly said with almost a sobbing tone, "You scared us so much. Do you know how dangerous that was? From now on, you should stop trying whatever that was. Your life is more important than gaining some powers."

Ayan nodded silently. Samuel then handed him a small mirror, his expression serious. "I think you need to see this."

Ayan looked into the mirror and became astounded as he saw his reflection—his face was strikingly divided into two parts. The left side had darkened resembling the shadowy hue when Samuel used his powers. The right side, however, was unusually brighter as if his skin was shining.

He touched his face—one side was warm, almost hot to touch while the other side was icy cold. He noticed it wasn't just his face; his whole body felt split between two clashing forces, two energies pulling at each other, causing him internal pain.

Panic surged through him as his mind raced through countless possibilities to heal this anomaly. Without a word, he jumped up, grabbed a cap, scarf, and mask from his closet, and dashed to the door, much to the shock of his uncle and aunt.

"Ayan, stop!" Aunt Tsering cried, rushing after him. "You're not healed yet! Come back, we'll figure something out!"

But Ayan was already out the door, sprinting towards the upper. Samuel quickly followed him, assuring her, "Don't worry, I'll go after him. He's a strong boy, he won't harm himself."

Despite using his powers for speed, Samuel struggled to keep up with Ayan. Even with his enhanced agility, Ayan was faster than he'd ever seen. Soon, he disappeared from Samuel's sight, but Samuel guessed where he was headed and continued the pursuit.

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Three years earlier, a day in the late autumn season.

Ayan, then a curious boy, had spent his holiday afternoon exploring the upper hills on his own. As usual, his backpack was filled with essentials—fruits, snacks, water, rain gear, and some miscellaneous items. Today, he was excited to have found a new, shorter route through the steep climbs to the upper regions.

Suddenly, his ears perked up as he noticed some movement in front of him. He quickly hid behind a tree and peered forward. To his astonishment, a snow fox appeared, moving gracefully through the forest with naked trees. He was overjoyed, looking at the rare snow fox, he'd been desiring to get close to. Without thinking much, he started following this snow fox quietly. The fox went through difficult, unconventional paths, steep and treacherous. Ayan, confident in his abilities followed the fox, hoping to discover its lair.

All of a sudden, it started snowing and the fox darted away. He tried to catch up but soon the fox vanished without any clue. Unable to find the fox, he stopped, wore his rain gear, drank some water before it started freezing, and observed his surroundings.

"Oh no! I'm lost."

He finally realized; he couldn't trace his way back. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten lost in the woods, but he had never ventured this far away from home. Confused and cold, he focused on surveying his surroundings, looking for a way out. He spotted a small opening in a distant cliff.

Instead of running around aimlessly, he decided it would be safer to seek shelter. He cautiously made his way towards the cave despite realizing the possibility of some wild animal being there. The snow was starting to build up, making the path even more treacherous. When he reached near the cave, he saw that it was almost entirely hidden by rock outcrops, accessible only by crouching through a narrow opening. If he hadn't seen the cave from a distance, he wouldn't have found it even if he were near the cave.

"Why is this cave so difficult to reach?" Ayan muttered to himself, feeling a sense of unease.

He broke a thick branch from a tree and shaved its branches, making it into a makeshift weapon and a walking stick. Gathering some dry wood before the snow soaked it, he entered the cave, prepared for anything. Despite the small entrance, the cave was wider and deeper than he thought. Turning on his flashlight, he ventured deeper, the sound of dripping water and fluttering bats echoing around him.

As he moved further in, his heart nearly stopped. On a flat rock near the wall sat a skeleton figure like a dead body unattended for years.

Mustering all his courage, he slowly approached the skeleton. As he came closer, he could see that the figure was draped in a decaying loincloth, sitting cross-legged in a meditative pose with closed eyes. Its skin had shriveled, clinging tightly to the bones, had few strands of hair on his scalp but a long, white beard hung from its chin. He leaned in, discovering the skeleton was breathing albeit very faintly with unusually stretched breath almost as if it's not there. The figure's body was covered in dust, as though it had been sitting there for an eternity.

He cautiously touched the body, finding his body except the top of his head was as cold as a corpse. Suddenly, this body started emitting a pressure causing Ayan to feel a strange discomfort staying too close so he backed away, shaking.

Gathering the wood he had collected, he quickly set up a fire near the entrance to keep himself warm as the snowstorm outside intensified. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what he had just encountered. The figure was alive, barely—yet it felt like it carried with it an ancient secret.

Deciding the wood wasn't enough, he ventured out to collect more wood, ignoring the odd shift in the atmosphere as he left the cave.

Returning with a bundle of sticks, some of them wet from the snow, Ayan felt it again—a distinct change in the air. This time, he paused at the entrance, stepping in and out several times. The atmosphere inside the cave was noticeably different from the cold, harsh environment outside. Within, a sense of calm enveloped him, his thoughts and emotions settling in an unexplainable stillness. His body felt rejuvenated and it felt as if the cave itself was soothing him.

He sat down cross-legged near the fire, unconsciously mimicking the ancient hermit's posture. As the warmth of the flames flickered around him, he closed his eyes. A deep sense of peace washed over him, the chaotic noise of his thoughts gradually fading into silence. He didn't know how long he sat there, but his body began to relax, his mind slowly slipping into a meditative state. The feeling was unlike anything he had experienced before—an unexpected bliss, as if he was one with the stillness.

The discomfort in his legs, not used to sitting cross-legged eventually broke this state, and he opened his eyes, feeling disoriented. The fire had begun to die down, and as he checked his watch, he was surprised to see that 20 minutes had passed, though it felt like only a moment or two for him. He glanced outside—snowfall had ceased, and the afternoon sunlight was now peeking through the clouds.

Putting out the fire, Ayan hesitated for a moment before deciding to leave a packet of dried fruits beside the mysterious figure. 'In case he wakes up…' he thought, before quickly eating a few fruits, packing his things and preparing to descend the hills.

Using the position of the afternoon sun as his guide, he navigated through several dead ends before finding a familiar route back to the village. He arrived home later than expected, but something about the day's events still lingered in his mind.

That afternoon, over lunch, Ayan decided to tell his uncle and aunt about the strange hermit he had discovered in the cave. As expected, Aunt Tsering scolded him for wandering off into the mountains alone. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?" she fumed.

Uncle Samuel, however, remained quiet, a contemplative look in his eyes. After a moment, he spoke. "It's best to leave the old hermit as he is."

His tone was uncharacteristically somber. Then, as if reminiscing, Samuel added, "My parents weren't religious, but they always had a deep respect for the old mystics, irrespective of religion. They would tell stories about yogis, Sufis, monks, and Zen masters—people who performed miracles, sat unmoving for days in meditation, or did unconventional things. I was always skeptical, of course. I used to show them news reports exposing some of these people as frauds."

He paused, then continued, "Mystics… they are beings who have realized the true nature of the world. There are many mystical phenomena happening around us that we are unaware of. But these mystics experience the mystical dimension of nature as a living experience. Many observable mystical phenomena happen around such mystics even if they are not intentional about it.

"It is usually difficult to identify such beings—they may appear more ordinary than normal people. They may be an unknown vegetable vendor, a beggar, an ascetic living on cremation grounds, a being absorbed in meditation on some stranded cave in the Himalayas, or even a mad guy dancing on the street."

Ayan's eyes lit up with excitement. "So, you think the hermit I found is one of them?"

Samuel nodded, his gaze far away. "It's possible."

Unable to contain his curiosity, Ayan climbed up to his treehouse and spent hours searching the internet for stories about mystics. He found many skeptical articles dismissing such tales as superstition, but there were just as many accounts from people who believed in the existence of these extraordinary beings. The deeper he dove into his research, the more intrigued he became.

Eventually, he returned home, exhausted but exhilarated by what he had learned. He ate dinner slowly, his mind buzzing with thoughts of mystics and hidden knowledge. He went to bed and fell asleep almost immediately after lying down.

In his dreams, he heard a childish voice ask, "Mystics? Great Masters?"

A soothing lady's voice replied, "Yes, there are mystical beings in this world who might not have a strong cultivation or powerful strength but even the most powerful beings in the world revere them. One of the great ancestors commented, 'Mystics are beings who are in constant communion with the creation, perfectly in tune with the source of creation. Being in their presence, one feels, calm, peaceful, joyful and energetic. At the same time, they're like an empty void, drawing you deeper into their intensity and stillness, slowly dissolving yourself into it.' But it's difficult to find such mystic in these worlds except maybe in that place."

"Which place?", the childish voice asked.

"The ancestral planet," the lady spoke. "It is said that mystics and great masters roam freely there. Many powerful beings have been searching for the ancestral planet for a long time, hoping to find a true master to guide them to reach the ultimate. Some dismiss it as superstitious folklore, but others still continue the quest."

Ayan awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside his window. 'That dream…' He couldn't shake the feeling that it was connected to his experience in the cave. The woman's words about mystics resonated with him, and he began to wonder if the hermit he had found was one of the beings she spoke of. As usual, he remembered the words he heard in his dreams but he couldn't remember the lady speaking in his dreams.

Determined, Ayan made up his mind. 'I have to somehow convince him to become my master.'

Lost in thought, he was startled when Aunt Tsering called out to him. "Hurry up or you'll be late for school!"

"Looks like I woke up late again," Ayan mumbled.

After that day, Ayan began visiting the cave every chance he got. On holidays, he would make the trek up the mountains to sit in the presence of the old hermit, enjoying the mysterious feelings. He started leaving food and water in the cave, both for himself and the hermit, just in case he ever woke.

As he delved deeper into the experiences that he had, Ayan searched online for any explanation of what he was going through. Meditation was the only thing that seemed to come close, but none of the methods he tried at home could recreate the state he felt in the cave. Every time he tried, his mind would wander, his legs would ache, and he would be distracted by the smallest sensations.

"This is harder than I thought," Ayan muttered, frustrated but more determined than ever.