The Mountain of Opposite
In a remote corner of a remote land there stands a mountain. Though few have been to it, the mountain figures largely into the culture, iconography, and everyday lives of the people there. People pray towards it; its silhouette adorns coins, jewellery, and other wares. A popular children’s game involves a race to the top of a local hill, the winner of which becomes the ‘Truth Seer’ and enjoys special status until the sun dips behind the mountain’s peak once more.
Occasionally, a pilgrim will arrive in the foothills of the mountain intending to scale its heights. Few make the trip. The journey is long and treacherous, and only the most pious are deemed suitable by church leaders. To scale the mountain and return is considered the ultimate test of one’s faith – the pilgrim who achieves this is said to be truly holy and will lead the church.
In living memory, this has not happened. Pilgrims arrive seeking true faith but invariably find apostasy or death. Few return from the mountain; fewer still return to their homeland. Those who do emerge from the mists of the mountain do so as the most virulent of heresiarchs, proclaiming opposition to everything they once stood for. Those who return to their society are generally killed – more often, they become hermits or disappear to other lands. Church leaders shake their heads and point to it as proof that we live in faithless times.
One day, a young apostle named Axar arrived at the bottom of the mountain, accompanied by his Witness. Axar was much younger than most pilgrims who make the journey – only 17. The trip was not entirely of his own choosing. The Church Elder, his teacher, had suggested he was ready to make the trip, and Axar had no recourse for refusal.
That he was ready was not entirely true. Though he was a bright young man, Axar was a frustration to his teachers. He was recalcitrant, combative, and often surly. His knowledge of scripture was impeccable and he performed his devotions flawlessly, and so could not be expelled. Yet in everything there was a hint of derision, as if each action contained the ghost of an obscene gesture.
In truth, the Elder was scared for the future of his beloved church. And so, in a moment of weakness, he summoned Axar and told him that he was ready to seek the knowledge of the mountain. The boy showed no emotion – neither pride nor fear. He simply nodded and left, and the old man felt a surge of relief so powerful it surprised him and made him feel ashamed.
And so, at the base of the mountain, Axar farewelled his Witness, whose job it was to wait seven days for his return. Feet slipping on shale, Axar passed into the low mists that surrounded the mountain.
When he emerged six days later, the Witness was astonished. When pressed, Axar would not give any details on what he had seen or learned. However, he reaffirmed his faith in the teachings of the scriptures and the supremacy of the church, though in the same slightly disingenuous manner as he always had.
For Axar on the mountain, there could be no inversion of faith as he believed nothing, felt nothing, stood for nothing. And so he and the Witness embarked on the journey back to the monastery, Axar ready to steer the church through faithless times.
By B Haughtly
The Coburg Meddler 