The first Disciple "Larz"

Luden's teachings spread like wildfire. His wisdom was not just theoretical—it was practical. He showed the people how to live in harmony with nature, how to listen to the whispers of the gods, how to become attuned to the flow of energy that surrounded them. And as they followed his teachings, the world began to change. The earth grew fertile again, the rivers ran clear, and the seasons began to flow in harmony. The people felt connected, not just to each other, but to the very pulse of the world itself.

Larz's First Encounter with Luden

The sun had barely set, casting long shadows over the dusty village streets. Larz had walked for days, his feet aching from the journey. He was a wanderer, seeking answers to questions that had been gnawing at him for years. Born into a family of farmers, he had always felt out of place. There was something within him, some restless part, that longed for more than the simple rhythms of life in the village.

The world felt too small, its mysteries too great to be understood by ordinary people like him. So, he set off, leaving behind the only life he had ever known in search of something that might make sense of it all.

He had heard rumors of a man—Luden—a wanderer much like himself, but one who spoke of things that made the heavens tremble. People said he could see the truth in all things, that his words could pierce the very fabric of the universe. They called him a sage, a mystic, a seer. Some feared him, others revered him.

One evening, as Larz passed through a quiet village at the edge of the forest, he saw the figure sitting under a great oak tree. The man was dressed simply, his face serene, yet there was an undeniable presence about him. Larz approached cautiously, but something in the air around the figure called to him, urging him to listen.

Larz: "Are you the one they call Luden?"

Luden opened his eyes, looking at Larz with a gaze that seemed to see through him, to the very core of his being. There was no surprise in his eyes, only a knowing calm.

Luden: "I am."

Larz stood still, unsure of what to say. He had heard many stories about Luden—some said he was a god in human form, others that he had traveled from distant lands to share wisdom. But standing before him now, Larz felt something different. This was no ordinary man. There was an aura around him, something ancient and unspoken, yet familiar.

Luden: "You have questions, don't you? But you have not yet found the right ones to ask."

Larz felt a chill run through him. It was as though Luden could hear the thoughts in his mind.

Larz: "Yes... How do you know?"

Luden smiled softly. It was a smile that seemed to belong to someone who had seen countless lifetimes, someone who understood more than he let on.

Luden: "You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, even though you do not know it. You seek answers, yet you do not know which questions to ask. The world is full of mysteries, but they are not all meant to be solved in one lifetime."

Larz felt a strange warmth in Luden's words. For the first time in a long while, he felt that his restlessness—his search for meaning—was not a burden, but a natural longing. But there was still so much he didn't understand.

Larz: "What is it that you know? Why do you walk the earth alone, speaking of things no one can understand? Why not teach us, show us the way?"

Luden's gaze softened, and he gestured to the ground next to him.

Luden: "Sit with me, Larz. Let us talk, and perhaps you will understand."

Larz, though hesitant, sat down beside him. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was in the presence of something truly ancient. It was as if time itself had paused, and everything around them had fallen into a kind of stillness.

Luden: "You are searching for something greater than what your village can offer. You know there is more to this world than the earth you walk on. That is why you are here. But not all who seek answers are prepared for them."

Larz: "How can one be prepared? How do I know what I need to learn?"

Luden turned to him, his eyes unwavering.

Luden: "It is not about knowing what to learn, but being willing to accept what you will become once you do. To follow the path of understanding is to shed what you think you know and embrace the mystery of what you do not. It is the unwillingness to accept the world as it is that keeps you from seeing it as it could be."

Larz's brow furrowed. These words didn't seem like answers—they were riddles, wrapped in veils of mystery.

Larz: "What do you mean? Are you telling me that I must unlearn everything I've been taught? That's impossible!"

Luden's expression did not change; it was calm, patient, almost as though he had anticipated this reaction.

Luden: "Not everything, Larz. But there are truths that you cannot see because you are looking at the world through the lens of your own limitations. The world will not be seen for what it truly is until you are willing to let go of the confines of your own understanding."

Larz felt his heart race, his mind spinning with thoughts he couldn't quite grasp. Let go of everything? How could he? He had spent so long seeking, trying to make sense of the world. Yet Luden's words stirred something deep inside of him—a desire to break free from the constraints of his own understanding.

Larz: "But... what would I become if I followed you? What would I lose in the process?"

Luden's eyes sparkled with a knowing light, and for the first time, he reached out, placing a hand gently on Larz's shoulder.

Luden: "You would lose nothing of yourself, Larz. You would lose the limits of yourself. You would become someone who sees the world as it truly is—vast, interconnected, and full of potential. You would become someone who no longer searches for answers, but becomes the answer in every moment."

Larz sat still, the weight of Luden's words pressing down on him. For the first time, he realized that he was not just searching for knowledge—he was searching for freedom. Freedom from his own limitations, freedom to see beyond the surface of things.

Luden's voice broke through his thoughts, steady and sure.

Luden: "I see in you the potential to walk the path of understanding, to embrace the mystery that calls to you. It will not be an easy path, but it will be the one that leads you to your true self. This is what it takes to become my disciple—to let go of what you think you know and embrace the unknown with an open heart."

Larz felt something within him shift. He had come searching for answers, but what Luden offered was far beyond what he had ever imagined. It wasn't simply knowledge—it was a way of being, a way of seeing the world that no one had ever taught him.

Larz: "I... I understand now. You are not here to teach me what to think, but to show me how to think. How to see. How to be."

Luden smiled—a smile that seemed to carry centuries of wisdom, of understanding.

Luden: "Yes, Larz. It is not what you learn, but how you learn. And you have taken the first step toward becoming what you were meant to be."

And so it was that Larz became Luden's first disciple—not because he was the smartest, the strongest, or the most capable, but because he was willing to see. To embrace the unknown, to let go of the limitations he had placed upon himself, and to become something greater than he had ever imagined.

In that quiet moment, under the shade of an ancient oak, Luden had shown him not the path to follow, but the eyes through which to see the world. And that was all Larz needed to begin his journey.

As I sit beneath this ancient oak, I watch Larz from the corner of my eye. The sun dips low in the sky, casting long shadows across the earth, and the world seems to pause for a breath. He doesn't know yet, but the moment of his decision is near. The moment when he must choose the path that will define not just his future, but the future of the knowledge I carry.

When I first met him, I saw a restless spirit—unsettled, questioning. He walked with the burden of the world on his shoulders, though he didn't fully understand the weight. His eyes were bright with a hunger for answers, yet he was unaware of what he sought. Many come to me for answers. They are all searching for something—peace, understanding, or power. They think the world can be understood, controlled, and shaped in their image. Larz, however, was different.

He didn't know it yet, but I had been watching him long before he had come to seek me out. There was something in his heart that stirred a truth I had long been waiting for. The pull wasn't just about the questions he asked, it was about the quality of his soul. It was not the strength of his mind, nor the clarity of his answers that marked him. It was his restlessness, his hunger for something greater.

He wasn't like the others who sought knowledge to gain power or to control the forces around them. No. Larz sought knowledge because he understood that the world held secrets—secrets that were buried beneath the veil of the ordinary. He had felt it, like a distant echo, always present yet just out of reach. I could see it in his every movement, every thought: he was searching, but searching without knowing what for.

It's this inquisitive nature that first drew me to him. But it wasn't just that. What most don't realize when they begin their search for answers is that knowledge is not the end, but only the beginning. The mind can be filled with wisdom, but only the heart can carry it. Larz's heart was what stood out to me—the way he carried himself with a quiet humility, a willingness to learn that was both rare and precious.

I could sense that, like all true seekers, he was willing to unlearn. To strip away the falsehoods and misunderstandings that had shaped his world. That, more than anything, is what makes a true disciple.

I could see that he was not afraid to face the unknown—to live without the certainty of answers. And yet, there was also something about him that was torn. He had lived a life shaped by the traditions of his village, by the expectations of the world around him. He had been taught to accept what was given, not to question the way things were. It was this tension, this internal conflict, that made him both suitable and vulnerable.

The first time he asked me a question, I saw his eyes—those eyes of a man who was willing to look beyond the veil, who could sense that the world was not as it seemed. But the question itself was simple. He asked, "What is it that you know?" I knew, in that moment, that he was not simply asking about the knowledge I carried. He was asking about the deeper truth—the truth that lay hidden beneath the surface of everything. He wasn't just asking for facts, he was asking for meaning.

It was in that moment that I realized—Larz would never be satisfied with surface-level knowledge. He was not content to stay within the boundaries of the known world. He was seeking to understand the nature of life itself. To grasp that which lies beyond comprehension. And in that pursuit, he would need guidance.

He wasn't perfect, of course. No one ever is. His mind was eager, but his emotions were often clouded by doubt and fear—fear that he would never be able to understand fully. He was still a man of the world, bound by the limits of what he could see and touch. But his heart, his willingness to look beyond those limits, was what I needed. It was what the world needed.

It takes more than intellect to be my disciple. It takes a heart willing to bear the weight of the unknown, a spirit that can endure the confusion of not knowing, but still keep searching. Larz had this heart. I saw it in the way he listened to the wind, to the rustling of the leaves, and how he felt the pulse of life in the stillness of nature. He was in tune with something deeper than himself, even if he couldn't articulate it.

What I saw in him was potential—the potential to become something greater than he could ever imagine. Not because of his cleverness or skill, but because of his openness. The world would reveal itself to him, piece by piece, but only if he was willing to see it, without fear, without prejudice. And that, I believe, is the most important lesson I can teach.

I have no doubt that Larz will face struggles—internal and external—that will challenge everything he believes. The path of the disciple is never easy. It is fraught with temptation, with doubt, and with the constant need to let go of the self. But Larz has something special, something that cannot be taught: he has a soul that seeks truth—not the truth of the world, but the truth of existence itself.

The true test will be whether he is willing to let go of everything—to release the very beliefs and fears that have shaped his identity. For true understanding cannot exist when the mind is clouded with preconceptions. It must be a complete surrender, a willingness to be molded by the world's wisdom, even when that wisdom does not come in the shape we expect.

But I believe he is ready. Ready to take the first step, and then the next. His journey will not be easy, but he will walk it with a willing heart.

And that is enough.