The old master sat deep inside of the crystal cave before a low fire. He chanted his mantra, absentmindedly flipping the beads of his mala.
The cave began to hum as the master’s mantra rang out from every being that he had ever been. The coals danced as they floated up.
The master saw many things in many futures and then he opened his eyes to the cave around him, fell back onto his bed of rags, and slept.
The master woke as the pull of the moon worked upon the blood in his veins. He stood, began his mantra, and walked into the moonlight.
The master found a soft spot beside an ancient tree and sat quietly. He looked at the moon and pulled his worn mala out of a small satchel.
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