How incredible it is that all the left and right turns may form the straightest way!

Book of Ómas, verse one

Captain Soo Beran was following Aanas through the dense, white mist into the fifth-dimensional city of Ébor. He could see his guide only partially at times, and the mist appeared to be combing gently through his being; then came a flight of steps before them, going up; eyes ever upon Aanas, Beran climbed step after step. With the corner of his eyes, he soon began to spot a hallway they were passing through, long and narrow, made of a fabric smooth as vapour, but dense and opaque; intermittently, right and left, stood torch-pillars made of stone, the Fire of Wisdom alight in every basin; then murmurs could be heard, and he spotted an opening to the left, leading into a doorless chamber; and still, the city's Lord went on, up a new flight of stairs, into a higher level.

As they came out from the mist, Soo Beran could see they were upon a platform. The same sheen gleamed across it, a thin layer of white mist lingered upon it, and the ceiling and walls were akin clear clouds in the sky.

"This is a Gateway into Ébor," said Aanas in his peaceful tone. "There are Seven in total. Two, you shall pass through. One depends on the other. Now answer me this so I may allow you to pass."

The Captain nodded.

"If I, although uncaged, find myself in bondage, and there are countless strings to all my needs and my desires, what actions must I employ to set myself forever free?"

The Captain pondered. "I would revise the needs and the desires, one at a time, and weigh the cost of each."

Aanas was listening keenly, but unhurriedly.

"Then I would free myself of all those that hold me in bondage. With only the essentials remaining, resources may be spared."

"What costs more," asked Aanas, "the price of all or the price of each?"

Beran reflected. "The cost of all is the sum of the price of each."

"And more," said Aanas. "Think beyond ordinary patterns."

It became clearer that by cost Aanas meant more than price.

"Costs," said Soo, "may indeed mean more than price." He revisited the question in his mind. "Were I to weigh the price of each, it would cost me more time, thus it would be costlier than weigh the price of all from an overall perspective. However, opting for the latter choice, I might overlook aspects, which might produce delays, again in time, and even more resources, to finally resolve the issue."

"Your mind is clouded by your role," said Aanas. "Think more clearly if you wish passage."

Return to the basics, Umani would say. What costs more: the price of all or the price of each? Then it dawned on him: he had already been given the answer by Aanas himself: the cost of all is more than the sum of the prices of each.

"You already gave me the answer," Soo said.

"Patience means more than not rushing," Aanas said. "It costs less to be thorough – however, not beyond what's needed – than to rush past the answers that, in doing so, you fail to reach."

"I shall keep that in mind," said Beran.

"Here's another chance: what is less: the road unknown, or the one taken?"

"The one taken is done deed," said Beran. "The unknown is yet to come, potentially, and when it does, it adds to the sum of knowledge of the world. Conversely, the road not yet taken weighs nothing yet, therefore my answer lies in balance."

"Once more speaks the Captain of Umbar, and not Soo," Aanas responded. "Your reasoning, however, is sound, and I shall allow you passage."

"Thank you," said the Captain.

"I wish to know your responses, Soo Beran," Aanas advised. "Your role is your mask, and the Council of Ébor shall turn you away. The road to Wisdom is Truth, which is the opposite of masks and roles. Through knowledge, one gains better thinking, but through Wisdom, one gains everything."

The Captain inclined his head in understanding.

"If you wish to follow me," Aanas said, "renounce your limitations. Are you willing?"

"Yes, I am," said Beran.

With a reserved smile, Aanas said, "Your thirst for advancement has brought you thus far. What you seek now has found you. Look closely, for you are a part of every answer."

An intriguing remark, thought Beran. He once again assented.

"Come," said Aanas, and as he turned, the platform at their feet, once stretching sideways into mist, became a large, spiralling pathway with no steps. It was white as well, its railing like its floor, and Aanas led the way. "With each turn, a new message will be revealed. Pay attention."

"I will."

They walked silently until the first curve in the spiral, and then Aanas said, "It is revealed to you already what you know, before you think."

With a serious expression, the Captain of Umbar received the message in his mind.

They kept on walking. "Never fear scarcity of any kind."

Beran was gathering these thoughts with close attention.

"It is neither early nor late for a new revision."

A nod.

"However much we struggle, struggle is not the way."

The spiralling path went on.

"There is the free, but absent, and those who are just free."

The more they climbed, the keener Soo's attention had to be.

"It is not the destination that we seek, but something else about it."

Another turn.

"And finally," said Aanas, looking sideways at him, "it is not I who speaks what I reveal, but you."

The Captain was familiar with notions such as these.

"To know is not to understand," Aanas mused aloud. "Not necessarily. Wouldn't you agree?"

"There are deeper ways to look at things," responded Beran, "once understanding grows."

Aanas nodded. "Soon, we will reach the Council. Do not deny your truth by reflecting externally, as a manager, uninvolved. To see clearly is to be clarity itself."

Before long the spiralling ascent stretched sideways and it widened into a platform new. An oval table spread before them. Members of the Council were seated, waiting. Most were Elders, the very presence of the place seemed heightened. There was one who was young, barely an adult: a boy with sandy, ear-long hair, meek eyes, who was clad in a white, student's robe. The Elders wore many subtle, light colours.

"Behold the Council of Ébor!" said Aanas. "Behold the Elders of our city, and one of their disciples, Ámilas."

The Captain bowed in greeting.

"Welcome, young man," came a voice from along the left side of the table, farther ahead. The one who'd spoken was an Elder with short, white hair and inch-long beard and vivid, clear blue eyes. "I am Ór, and I have a quest for you. Discern for me who's right among two men quarrelling about the essence of their being. None of them knows the complete answer, yet neither one retracts their point of view. One is younger, the other elder. One knows more, the other sees with fresh, new eyes. One says they're two, the other that they're each one. One knows the answer better, the other is blind. Discern for me which one is right, and I shall grant you your next key."

"Allow me to regroup my thoughts," asked Beran.

"You may do so, if that's your choice," said Ór.

Something told Beran that thinking alone could not provide the answer. "You said that neither knows the complete truth, therefore neither one is completely right. They see things from different perspectives." Return to the basics. He expanded his thinking. Essence of their being. One says they're two – individually, they are, but what about in essence? – and the other says that they're each one – what does that mean, to be 'each one'? One focuses upon the number: they are two beings. Therefore, he is not grasping the essence. The other claims they are 'each one'. It might vaguely seize the concept of oneness, but is confused between essence and appearance. "The one who says they are each one," Soo said, and waited.

"By what reasoning have you concluded that?" asked Ór.

Beran explained.

Ór nodded. "That thinking got you into the quarrel, too," he said, pointing his way. "But you have discerned well, so here's your next key: It is not the absence of what you miss that prevents you from having it; it is your focus upon the isn't-ness of things and your misjudgement concerning the bountifulness of all and your true connection to it. Put this key to its proper use, and you shall find what you came here to seek."

"Thank you," said Soo Beran, and he bowed.

"Allow me to speak, too," said the disciple.

The Elders silently agreed.

"When I was in Thaamas, I met one man who claimed he could use time according to his will," said the student. "How do you manage? I inquired, and this is what he said: I'm free. I neither come nor go, but let things pass. When choosing, I'm aware. When doubtful, I revise. I manage, then he told me, by simply being alive. He barely had any clothes and his countenance, though serene, spoke of lack. Now, I mistrusted him, and thought he lied, but was he?"

"His countenance needs not reflect his ability to use time according to his will," said Beran. "You searched for signs of personal wellbeing as indicators of whether or not he could do what he'd said, but his very presence there reflected it. The answer lay before you."

"You are wise not to pass judgement based on personally-selected premises," said the young man. "Thank you for your answer."

Beran inclined his head to him.

"What do you miss, Soo?" asked another one of the Elders from farther away, leaning slightly over the table to look at him. "What do you truly miss?"

The masks Aanas had advised him against and the thought that the Council might not let him through. Soo Beran delved as if entirely within to seek the answer he was part of.

"On one level," he replied, "my responsibilities demand almost incessantly of me, thus leisure is at times in want. On a deeper level, my greatest motor is that which I seek, therefore what I truly miss is the completeness which I lean towards."

Silence.

"Is that all?" the Elder asked.

Beran searched and searched. Always go back to why, Umani often advised. "I seek not seeking anymore," Soo uttered, continuing to look within. "The fundamental prerequisite of wanting to acquire something is the belief that you don't have it."

The Elders seemed gladder than before, their expressions more serene as they exchanged fleeting glances.

"I seek the disproving of limitation itself by moving the limits further and further," Soo said.

"That way is longer," the Elder retorted. "The cost of all outweighs the cost of each in their sum total."

In other words, thought Beran, all the steps account not for the whole journey. There is something in the journey that steps cannot accomplish. What's the connection among all I've learned here today?

His mind searched and searched. No masks.

Limitation is a mask in itself. So is the belief in those of others.

The Council was waiting patiently.

A role is a limitation based on a belief. However, responsibilities do not impede us, so long as we do not get lost within the roles we play. "I miss the wholeness of myself, which is beyond the fragmentation of filling up a role for too long a time and getting lost in it. I miss the complete I."

"Realizing this is a major step towards Freedom," said the Elder. "Now you must act upon it. Hardly then will you feel free: when you no longer keep yourself bounded."

"Thank you, sir," said Beran.

"We are done here," said the second Elder. "He may proceed."

"Tell me, Soo," asked Aanas, "if time and space would curve right here and now, where would you rather be, on a visit?"

"At home," came Soo's answer.

"Step this way," said Aanas, and he produced a loophole in the continuum.