Adopted by his teacher, orphaned again, he is a seeker of knowledge. When all of a sudden he is shrouded by the dark glow of the most dreadful, the red-eyed, the one who rides a bull or the one with four-eyed dogs.
I bow to you, Death. He said, the first to have ever died and the one who collects mortals at the time of death. You are also the one who governs justice and ethical codes, always weighing mortal good and bad deeds.
Is it time already? My life, as it has been and witnessed by your clerk, has only just started, I have paid all my respects to my elders and ancestors.
I studied ancient texts and their interpretations. Since, I have embarked on understanding the words of the contemporary; is it already time for me to join the land of the immortal?
Death replied, I cannot prejudge. There must be good that you have done since you were born. You were an obedient child of both sets of parents. You were cheerful and honest.
The young man said, you, who once discussed the absolute with mortals. I am ashamed, for being unqualified, for you to even consider me worthy of sitting before you who has more knowledge. What did I contribute to conversations with the wise? I remained a mere observer, an outsider.
Then Death said, knowledge is an ocean that no one human can master. It has no beginning and no end. It is like time, eternal and always unraveling. Maybe what was yesterday becomes an axiom today. Or a defeated argument tomorrow.
The young man asked, never has a human been born with the ability to grasp the light that illuminates every corner of this world without getting arrogant. What does one do with this knowledge?
Brighten the world, minds and lives. Direct those lost towards a truthful path. With you as a witness, I must admit that I cannot lead anyone to immortality of the body, however they can be taught to nurture their light.
Unbeknownst, various gods and wise people had gathered around them. Some bore tears on their cheeks. Others bore smiles. Some blessed him with a long life. Others waited expectantly for the response from the first person ever to die.
I cannot grant you immortality but a life so long that your body does not age over the years. Let me give you that boon and hurry on to another mortal.
Not yet. Not yet. A body that does not age from year to year will leave me ever youthful. I have no objection except that were I to contract a chronic ailment I would be opting for a life of suffering.
Indeed that is the risk of immortality. The body ages, and that is a fact. I can only promise you a long life which will not be a curse. If that is so, then let me give you that boon and hurry on to another mortal.
Not yet. Not yet. Knowledge is gained, stored, retrieved and shared by the body. In order for me to continue absorbing light as it unravels over time, my immortal body should also have the capacity to store and share.
Wise child, let me also grant your physical embodiment with the kind of capacity you seek. If that is all, then let me give you that boon and hurry on to another mortal.
Not yet. Not yet. Knowledge and memory of everything at all times will be cursed. Does not a mother forget the pain she faced when her child was born? Does not a child forget the shock of being outside the womb?
Seeker of knowledge. What you describe is the capacity of selective memory. If that is all, then let me give you that boon and hurry on to another mortal.
Death, the judge of mortals, I bow respectfully to you. I promise not to fail you. And if I do, may you take it all away from me.
So be it, my child. You will be watched, monitored and tested. May you lead a long, healthy, wise life that will serve other mortals.
