Somewhere along the way, Harjen’s own inner sanctum began to involve into something far greater than can be given justice by a few words. It is along certain paths that the true nature of a thing can’t help but shine through. Like a light that comes pouring out of a fluorescent tube, it is impossible to contain that which has no container. Whether it finds space to move around in the open air, or remain confined, it still acts upon its own force.
After feeling significantly rested, Harjen rose from the spot he had found himself completely relaxed in. It was not a conscious effort to bring his body to this state, but he felt as if a push this way or that would have certainly sent him reeling. An unknown stimulus caused his body to spin around 180 degrees, only to find himself spinning back in the same direction to continue back down the dark path.
Few colors could be made out, due to the darkness, but texture was becoming much more evident than before. Jagged stalactites hung like icicles from the roof. Harjen had heard once that touching a stalactite and absorbing the moisture can cause it to go dormant for countless years. Thus, he made every effort to avoid having them contact his open skin.
To be continued…