Conundrum
09 Jun 2020Belexticus
"The galaxy is a strange place full of strange characters. I suppose everyone is out here for their own reasons; whether fame, fortune, glory or, like me, just to get away. I've crossed paths with heroes, thieves, poets, murderers, nobles and vagabonds, and all have made some degree of impression on me, but I can't make heads-nor-tails of the man I met today. Or at least, the man from today."Father always encouraged me to be inquisitive. It was his nature. It's what made him the great scientist, no, 'natural philosopher' that he was. He said that the answer to everything was out there somewhere. I still remember the puzzles and riddles he would set for me, and the chess positions we would analyse. Although my mind was well suited to it, I expect that it was through these challenges that I developed my own sense of curiosity. A safe sense of curiosity, however.
"When solving a riddle, one should always follow one's initial instincts. Usually, something jumps out to the analytical mind. If nothing does, a riddle can sound like gibberish. Indeed, for the first time in a long time, I'm torn between whether this is the key to something or whether it's rubbish. I was sitting in the Pilot's refectory on Royo the other day, drinking my tea in solitude, when a man came and sat beside me. I could see he was well-travelled; the distant stare, his dishevelled greying hair almost seemed to be matted together with his headband. His eyes seemed to see right through me. Whilst he didn't make me uneasy, it felt necessary to interject.
"'Yes?' I demanded in my regrettably sardonic tone. He said nothing. I was about to stand up and walk away when he grasped my hand, bidding me to sit.
"'V'dai...kor...doo'um etz'cri...pentez.'
"'I beg your pardon? What?' I replied to the bizarre exclamation. I didn't understand. He repeated the phrase. I asked him what it meant, to which he said he didn't know. He then began to rattle off a load of what sounded like riddles, conspiracies and fairy tales.
"He spoke of entering through a door and being presented with seven sets of pillars, arranged as if to mark the edge of a path, made of a dark mineral. Suddenly I could see them before me. Between each set of pillars hung a sheet of imperceptibly thin fabric, lilac and gossamer. The whole room became black like the void, mist and cloud swirling and voices seemed to whisper to me. Passing along the curtained walk, a cold and foreboding room that felt deep below solid ground came into view. Centrally, a stone of some kind, again made of the dark mineral, like an altar or monument, surrounded by a circle of objects. Engraved on the the stone was a string of symbols, a word perhaps, burning brightly like plasma and yet I couldn't read it.
"I don't know what happened but the next thing I knew, I leapt from what felt like a deep sleep in the refectory, startled and confused. What had just happened? Had I been dreaming? What had I been dreaming? There was no one about, my tea still hot sat on the steel-topped table and there was no sign of the stranger. A folded piece of paper was under my wrist. I didn't know where it came from. I opened it, curious to find something written in what looked like my father's handwriting:
The Ruler of Men won't speed you to Logos. Let Hera become Charon.
"I shook my head. 'Bullshit', I said dismissively to myself. I've got more important things to think about. Or, or do I?"
~ Belexticus