3. The waking
The old man breathed on the forehead of the man under him. He warmed the space between his eyes so that this eye does not leave and continue to calmly see death in front of him and its space in movement. He must recognize his terrors like the wave of his own spirit. It was essential to make him come back sane among the men, because without this smile, he will die again and again and still again….
He had placed his belly on the belly of the man. He had sought the spot of the navel. Just a light vibration! It was time. Death was going to leave with him because he had already entered the first movement of the death of the men. So, he has put his navel on the one of the man and he has blown his life which he has stored there for more than fifty years, since he Sees and knows how to be stabilized in the movement of the Sight.
He remained extraordinarily attentive to each vibration of the space, because one of them could make dying the one who was under him and who he had to make alive again because he was already dead.
He knew this death and was not afraid of it. But, it was the first time that he brought back a small of the man from there. This one, underneath him had death in his forehead and he knew that it was still better than him in the Knowledge. He knew that of him because he was under his belly and his breath and the other one said to him in return what he is.
And what he IS made him quiver because this one, if he survived, was going to reverse the World.
Then, he continued to blow his warmth of Man toThe One who was not completely a Man anymore. That, now, he knows it that it will be his work before his own death and that he does not have much of time anymore.
Then clarity came gently between the summits. The night was driven out of his ears by the cry of barn owls. He knew the day imminent then and he allowed himself to raise his eyelids on his cheeks. Hours lasting he had prohibited his eyes to lose their energy; he needed of it so much for this body which was warming under him.
He felt death to slip with small paces towards the hands and the feet of this body and he forced it to leave with his own breath, his mouth half-opened between the eyes of the other.
He, underneath him, he was not able to push death out of his body. The old man did it for him and his life pushed death. It moved back with small paces, frustrated. She had believed her food ready and she left the hole by which she had entered, the curved back and the bristling hair, fangs still salient. But this old man was a Master and it knew also that the combat will be for him. But it did not accept this retreat of its power. The nozzle of the eagle had already the taste of its prey and its claws did not like to withdraw again empty, because this life, it is food for its existence, and this weak old man came and provoked it.
He did not let him the time of a false breathing and it says it to him when the old man wanted to look towards the night. Immediately he pulled the life out of the body. The old man tightened the teeth and knocked them together, then tightening his sex and his anus, he sent with all his force in his back and when he felt it in his nape of the neck, he pushed it in his cranium and let it run in his throat in long breathings. Then he blew his force to the body under him.
He fought the death and pulled the life by the hands of the one underneath him. These hands were frozen. He attracted the warmth of the universe in the fingers and made inflate the bones of the hand. Then he passed to the bones of the wrist and he started to know his success when he felt the bones of the before arm inflating.
Then he smiles but did not raise any more the eyelids over the night. He held the death out of the hand. He took care of the body.
It is when the wind ceased that he perceived the force of the heart of the man under him. He had wanted to shout of contentment because he had gained!
But this shout would be still a loss of energy and he could not do it. Thus he moved, rubbing him with the one underneath and he slipped his hands under the heavy jacket. The heart beat well, gently, slow. Death had left. The tear which slipped of the eyelid froze on the cheek and he felt it when it was crushed on the skin which was warming under him.
It was now time to make him breathe by the two poles of the heaven and of the earth. He massed the heart with his fingers stiffened by the cold in the direction of the walk of the sun on the earth and entered his spirit in this heart. It had to be relieved, to tell him that he did not need to make all this effort to involve the movement of the life, that there were other means and that those ones, him, the Master, he knew them.
He posed his mouth on the throat of the man who smelt strongly, very acid and warmed it, speaking to him with his own heart so that the heart of the other ceases to palpitate painfully. He says to him to calm the effort, to leave it, him, make the passage between death and life, this passage in opposite direction that very little are lucky to know and that it was his chance, him which smelt so strongly and so acid, to know this movement; but that he has to let go, because he felt him contracted, as if the life did not want the life. He spoke to him with his mouth on his throat, exhaling his breath burning of passion of the one which knows that this state of transition is worth the pain that one curves under the effort.
He guided the energy which was warming under him in the belly of the man, making him recognize the existence of his presence of man, so that he knows that he was still him and that his tank was always there, this tank that he says to him that he will fill with him; but that he has to let it go, to allow him to hold his small force reappearing between his old fingers and to draw this force to the two doors of the earth and of the heaven so that he can also breathe by there and this breathing will say to the heart that there exists also another manner of existing.
The old man knows that it is this information that he must print quickly in the body under him which smells so bad. This night, he has perceived his suffering because in the death which was there he had heard the sobs of the one who died and these noises, he had recognized them for having heard them elsewhere. He had heard them in the nights which made him curve the back and strike the mat with his forehead to tell him that he was quite alive but that he also could not stand it any longer.
He lets the breath guide the life. He can do nothing else but he has confidence because without this faith nothing is possible. Then he says to him to go towards the doors of the earth and the heaven. He shows the way to him while carrying his own force on these points, to remake the way of the channels of life so that he remembers and does not fear.
The fear must not gain him.
The night left the summits of the pines and the wind accompanied it in its escape. The blue hour had passed and the vibration of the small yang was spread out on the earth. The old man felt the movement of it under its rock. The body under him sighed; so he was able to slip on the frozen snow. The crust cracked under his weight and he smiles because he liked this life which hid under it and which awaited only the first rays to spout out again. As the one who he left under the rock in the tepidness of his skin pelisse that his monks offered to him for his sixty ten years.
He knows that he can leave him there. He will continue to sigh in his unconsciousness, but he does not fear anything because he is under the protection of the heaven. The old man knows it now to be himself lying on him and to breathe his strong and acid odor. The force of the Kamis of the heaven is in him and protects him. . These are them which have called him in the monastery and have guided him here.
He knows the reason of this strong and acid odor. This one comes from the remote areas beyond the mountains and the seas, where the skin is white and without fineness. His odor is terrible!!!! He guessed it this night.
When he has slipped out of the flat stone which protects, the day passed between them and he saw the face of the man: length and thin, deep eyes in the salient orbits. The abundant undergrowths of the eyebrows join! What an ugly man! He suspected it but he has made the face and he was angry with himself. Why did he not have washed that in him yet?
But he knew that what he had seen right now will not be easy to live. What he saw there, on the face of this young man, may be not even a man, just a teenager, a beginning of man, will be his pain because it is to this small man that he will have to give all his knowledge and his marrow. He knows that and tightened his last suffering which he will have to change into compassion, like the others, like all the others since now lives after lives to be now there, in these frozen mountains, with this body slipped there under the flat rock.
The earth welcomed him there in the turmoil of the earth but especially in the one of a heart which could not stand it any longer. It could nothing else but to give him its warmth in protection, a flat rock and pines above, cutting the blade of the frozen wind. And then the Kamis of the heaven went to seek the old man in his monastery. The old man knows it and the salted drops slip into the corners of his tight lips. He did not realize that these drops left his eyes while he looked at this face, squatted, the forehead leaning on the flat rock.
This face will be the hate of the men and he knows already that he will have to hide him a long time then to teach him how to live before this face can smile again and carry him also the burden of the world by changing the hate into compassion. He feels old suddenly. He had not seen the years thus coming. He had taken them as gentleness of the heaven and of the earth to progress his new entry in them. He had seen his death approaching with the smile. He had thought of having filled the contract that the Life had required of him by bringing him in the world of the Men. He had believed that the destiny did not want any more one successor for his Knowledge, to his Knowledge of the Forces which lead the Men, to the one which says the manner of transforming them into gentleness.
He had believed. Often he had thought of this absence of successor in the meditations of the night in his hermitage of the mountain. He had said himself that the reign of the men was may be finished; that in the law relentless of the changes, those men were going to finish with their specie which has not filled the hopes of the Knowledge.
The Man is in his night. He is glad to be there and in this mass grave there is no hope of true action. The first step of that one is born when the mass grave is seen. Then, the labor of the day and of the night is at each step, each movement of the body because this life is matter and it is useless to want to mask it.
He had believed that it was finished. And now, there is this face under the flat rock, his heavy pelisse welcoming him, because now, it is him, the old man, who must welcome him and all of a sudden he feels old. That will be his work in the years that he remains to him to live in this World.
But with this face, he knows that the combat will be hard, very hard. How his eyes are deep!!!! …. Opened they must probe the deepest of the heart of the men and laugh in their face!!!!
The old man rises on his legs which crack and he dusts the snow which has fallen from the pines on his dress of monk. He adjusts the wool hat on his shaven cranium and lifts the face at the day between the summits of the pines. It is a day of sun which is there. It is good.
Now, he must find a sledge to put the body in it and to carry it at the monastery.
It will be necessary that he passes by the cols out of the ways.
Nobody must see this face!
He climbed the slope on all fours, towards the way which traced its path hardly visible between the trunks of pines. The frozen crust broke under his weight and he had to go on all fours for the last meters, hiding his hands under the snow to clutch himself at the roots.
While he went up thus while exhaling his breath which went out of his throat such as cloud of warm fog, he guessed his effort when he will have to go up the unconscious body. This pain made him a leap in the heart because it was the consolidation of the bond between him and the other one. The first step was to find him. To bring him back to the monastery will be the second step as difficult, but different as the first one. This one will have to be the one of the body. The snow entered his mouth. He did not spit it out.
On the path he was able to be upright, making pop off the traces of snow on his dress with great abrupt gestures. He was surprised to laugh and he noted that he was hungry. The light drew its features between the pines. The day will be the one which is needed for what he had to make. All is well so.
The descent became soft. He took advantage of that to seek the places where the sledge will have to pass. He will surely have to drag the body far enough towards the valley. He will not be able to pass higher, between the pines which were tightened by tackling the crests. Yesterday, he had turned the eyes towards them, seeking a passage. He knew he could find it only uphill from the village, by walking around it by the north, through the frozen pastures. He will have to follow the brook, then to seek the ford which goes towards the sides of the mountain. He will have to ascend hard between the wood balls which awaited the thaw to be gone down. On the top, there is the fault in the crest which will make him pass on the plateau. Behind, it will be the other valley and in that one, the security will be better.
But this other valley will be for tomorrow in the morning. There is now a day to pass with the men of this one. This one which is too much connected to the lower big city. The soldiers come quickly and the men who like money will be those which will call them.
They must not find a reproach to the old man who will spend the day with them. Such is the law of the Men and to ignore it would be the worst stupidity. Also, when the path of the valley was visible between the last trees of the forest, he lacerated the bottom of his dress of monk, tore off the cord of the waist. He removed his signs of power around his neck. He must not leave them there. They would see them if they opened the collar of his monk’s habit. He made of it a package in a piece of his dress which he tore off against his calf and hides it at the foot of the hollow trunk along the path. On his knees, he dug the ground under the roots. He pushed the chain and the medals of gold in the frozen ground which he scratched with the nails. When his right hand bled, when he felt his nails breaking under the effort, he put the left hand and continued his undermining. The smile was on his lips, that one which stretches the lips towards the cheeks, without letting appear the teeth and he was happy because this smile, he did not have it for a long time. Since he had thought that the destiny did not want that he has a successor.
He knew the method for put his vital force in his hands so that his hands are claws with the formidable nails. He knew how to drain the vital force so that his bones are like a steel bar. He knew how to make his skin like an iron shirt. He was the Master. But now, here, he must not be the Master. And he smiles while bringing back all his weakness of man in his hands and his nails so that his hands are wounded and his nails break. He smiled because that, he knows that he will have to teach it to the one who remains still unconscious under the flat rock, in the warmth under his heavy pelisse which he took care to wedge well with stones of each side. Even more than the heat of the skin, it is the one of his heart which he left in his body which will hold him in the warmth. It is it which will drive the blood. It is it which will make of heart a light instrument because he set in motion the mechanism of the two other pumps, the one of the heaven and the one of the earth. He spent the night for this hard work, but when he left him, he knew that he did not risk anything, neither of the cold, neither of the animals, nor of the men. He is now under his protection. No one will approach this place. He has made the three circles around the rock and the nine others on the path, where the passage is for going to the man with the frightening face. This one does not risk anything. He is under the protection of the Master of the family SHIN.
He laughs by examining his work on his bleeding hands. A formation in reverse! He will have to teach that quickly to him.
He rubbed the hands on his face and left darkish traces there. Then, he withdrew dark ground from under the roots, heated it between his palms and dirtied the cheeks and the neck with it. He dirtied the collar of his tunic. He made a face when he had to mix this ground and this blood with the white hairs of his goatee. He took care so much of it! With full hands, he seized the left side of it and drew abruptly. The tears did not come to the eyes under the pain. He was the Master now since such a long time! He examined the handle of long grey hair which mixed with the ground, then he laughed by throwing them in the wind which rose once again.
He was the Master but nobody here must know it.
The first day with the one who will become his son, step by step in the confidence and the love must not be the one of the tiger. The Tiger will come later.
Here, now, it is the day of the water and he laughs on his closed teeth because he guesses that this teaching, he will be hurt like hell to make it enter in the nut of the one who became alive under him this night. By all the Kamis, what a frightening face! And what odor!
The old man raised himself. He spread out pine needles over the snow, he erased his traces. From the path, one did not see anything of his passage. Then, he gained the other side, a little lower and threw himself in the snow, the round back. He rolled and extended the arms so that the traces are generous, that they show a man who this night was struggling against the storm. The men like so much appearances!
When he felt the snow well pressed, he raised himself and on all fours went up the slope, taking care to leave clear marks. Against the big pine, he rubbed his cheek and the skin opened because he forbids his vital force to go to this place. He went up the flesh on the sharp bark and left his red trace. He sought an asperity of the skin of the tree and encrusted in there the right corner of his lips. Then he drew. He forbids his body to bring back blood to him and to close the wound. He forbids to his body all the mechanisms which he knew. Today, he was not to be the Master. A poor old man who had let himself surprise by the night in the forest. A poor insane which had not even seen, nor felt the night to come. A poor wretch without money. One of those which will join those who beg. One of those who do not have a flame in the eyes.
He stayed lengthily lying down in the snow, feeling the ground under the layer. This ground was hot and it is it which must be his partner today; not the heaven.
Then he sat down on a bole, placed his hands one on the other, against his belly, between his folded thighs. He placed his breathing under his navel and opened the passage to the door of the life. His eye was dull. All was well so.
Now he can go there, at the village.