The Logos: The Meletic Testament (Chapter 18 The Passing)
Lorient Montaner
đź“ś Chapter 18: The Passing
1. The morning was quiet and attentive, as if nature itself had come to pay respects to Asterion on his day of death. It was an odd irony revealed through a natural occurrence, not supernatural.
2. Asterion sat in his chair, eyes closed, and his breath shallow than before. It was uniquely memorable. I could not forget that image in my head, even if I tried to efface it.
3. The olive trees that stood outside swayed gently, casting long shadows across the floor of his room. He was staying at my home, so that I could care for him.
4. I remained beside him on that day of his death, not as a mere student of a great philosopher, but as an adopted son of his, who was always loyal to him and his advice.
5. He had spoken little in the way of substance in those final days, yet his presence was louder than ever. I could deeply sense that the hour of his death was nigh.
6. Let the world continue, I have already stepped aside to make my lasting peace with my soul—he told me.
7. His hands trembled, his voice faded, but his gaze remained—clear and unwavering. I admired his courage and the acceptance of his death, but I could not help but to be saddened by the fact that he would no longer be amongst us physically.
8. There was no evident fear in him that I could perceive knowingly, only the acceptance of the release of the body, which was a natural sequence to death.
9. He did not cling to life like a desperate person fearing the arrival of death, nor did he flee from it. He was aware of what was occurring to him, and he was prepared.
10. He met it as he had met every truth that he had known or spoken—with open eyes, a quiet heart, and awareness that there was something awaiting him after death.
11. I placed my hand upon his to comfort him in his hour of need, and he opened his eyes one last time to see me. I was anticipating that exact moment. To hear him speak one last time.
12. His eyes did not search for meaning in mine—they simply looked at me with the expression of a man preparing himself for his final journey. This was laudable.
13. And in that unique gaze that he reflected, I felt the passing of someone that fate had brought and was then taking. The emotions in me were emerging from inside of me.
14. His breath slowed gradually by the minute, then paused as he took in the last breaths of his life. I could sense a gentle calmness in his eyes afterwards.
15. There was no struggle from him to be seen, no grasping—only the stillness shown with the awareness of his ultimate fate. I knew that I too would wish the same way of dying.
16. The kind of stillness and awareness that comes after a long life lived without regret. This was a feeling that few men or women could ever express and understand.
17. I did not cry out of respect for his dying wishes—not then, nor did I demonstrate my sorrow before his presence. I restrained my emotions, until after his death.
18. I remained beside him as a companion, as he had once remained beside me in my days of suffering. He was always the person who would uplift me from the dark shadows of suffering.
19. The room held a certain silence that was not empty, but full of inspiration that would live on in me for decades. It would never be the same again.
20. Full of memory, of meaning and of a quiet farewell to a man who would revolutionise a world with his message. This is what Asterion would leave behind as a vestige of his philosophy.
21. Asterion was not destined for the embellished tales of immortality. He was a not a god or one in flesh to be revered. Instead, he was a mere mortal as he said who philosophised.
22. He was not a divine prophet who came to save or warn the world, nor a hero carved in marble stone that would be glorified in history for his actions or bravery.
23. He was nothing more than a mortal man—of flesh, of breath, of bones, and of quiet strength, amidst the greatest adversity man could face as a mortal.
24. He walked amongst us without grandeur, yet he changed the course of philosophy with Meleticism. He taught it to the poor and humble, and to the rich and prominent. To those people who sought his wisdom.
25. He did not seek any disciples or apostles in his life, only genuine people who could understand him, and dared to question him and his beliefs.
26. He did not preach his philosophy as above others, he merely converted it into practicality, so that the common person could comprehend his vision and message.
27. His wisdom was not the raging thunder of the heaven above—it was the essence of pure rain that falls naturally, when the land is in need of this rain.
28. Gentle as well as persistent, but nourishing in its teaching and in its knowledge. He adored nature, as he adored life. He had found his true eudaimonia or happiness.
29. He taught us not what to think, but how to listen closely to our mind, body and soul in unity, and to never forsake either of them to vices or to the ego.
30. Not how to conquer life, but how to walk beside the world that surrounded us daily. It was his teachings on ethics that built our character and virtues.
31. He gave us the philosophy of Meleticism—not as a doctrine to impose, but as a direction to be led and to lead others, along the path towards enlightenment.
32. A way of living that honoured silence, questioned certainty, and embraced imperfection in a man, teaching him how to truly value his virtues.
33. He was not a perfect man nor beyond any man. He never claimed to be a messiah in life. Instead, he was only a mortal man dressed in the torn and worn garments of a philosopher.
34. He made mistakes like other men in life, but he welcomed them as lessons to learn and build from those mistakes. He was never a self-assuming man in his attitude towards others.
35. Thus, he loved, he lost, he wept and he laughed with others together, just like other men do in life. He did not ask to be treated any different than other men.
36. And through it all, he remained honest and humble as a man, who gave up all that was his material wealth for his authentic principles and philosophy.
37. That was his greatness in life—not in the brilliance that men utilise as superiority, but in his integrity. He had no need for the greatness that emperors or kings coveted.
38. He never once sought absolute power of the ego, but only the humble presence of the self. He would tell me that power is only the grandeur of a mere illusion.
39. He lived as he taught his students and others: simply, attentively, courageously. He knew that was not only a philosopher, but a messenger of To Ena.
40. And in doing so, he became more than a philosopher in name—he became a mirror for others to see their own reflection, and to understand what the reflection meant.
41. I shall remember him not merely as a remarkable sage, but as a teacher and companion in life. Like Socrates, he sought virtue in men than vice in them.
42. I remember him not only as a teacher, but as a man who durst to live his questions freely. He was always thinking about the way in which men sought the truth.
43. His death would not be an end or a cessation, but a continuation of his memory and the release of his body, soul and Ousia. In the last days of his life, he emphasised this release.
44. He taught us to believe that Meleticism lives not only in memory, but in the thought that we are no longer burdened after death. It was something that I contemplated.
45. In the way we speak with our wisdom, in the way we listen and the way we remain aware. These are the things for which, understanding is achieved in life.
46. Thus, I carry him with me with a fond reverence—not in memory alone, but in my thoughts expressed daily. I remember every walk we share and every path we took.
47. In every moment, I choose silence and awareness over noise and chaos that arises from others.
48. In every question I ask, I do without the fear of being silenced or punished for my belief.
49. In every truth I honour the value of life, even when it hurts to admit it that I am wrong at times in my decisions.
50. Asterion may be gone in body, but his legacy remains. And he remains in universal existence, through the Logos, the Nous and ultimately through To Ena.
51. But the path he walked in life, thus remains not aloof, but visible and rewarding. It is the same path that I decided to take for the remainder of my life.
52. And I walk it still openly, knowing that he was indeed the last greatest philosopher that did not bend to power or corruption, when it confronted by him.
53. His philosophy was not as a banner to be waved, but as a breath to be shared in the quiet understanding that wisdom is only as good as one's teachings.
54. I did not seek followers to echo his words, but companions willing to walk beside the questions he once posed. I offer no rewards, nor did I promise eternal salvation.
55. Those individuals who joined me were not drawn by certainty, but by the gentle inspiration to dwell in wonder and discover the path of enlightenment. He once told me that enlightenment was for more rewarding than eternal salvation.
56. They came not to be taught, but to be reminded of what they already carried within. Asterion would say to me—Do not go far to search for what is already within you.
57. In their eyes I saw the same hunger I once carried before—the longing not for answers, but for honesty. After all, this was the foundation for which the truth could be revealed.
58. The garden of thought that Asterion mentioned that we tended grew slowly, without any need for spectacle; it was nourished by patience and presence.
59. Each student brought their own soil of knowledge—their own stories, wounds, and hopes—and Meleticism welcomed them all, as if these stories were its branches.
60. Asterion had taught us that wisdom wears many faces, and so we did not demand sameness, only sincerity. The sincerity that makes a person humble in nature.
61. Some people arrived with the fire in their hearts, others with silence in their bones, and all were received without any judgement or hypocrisy imposed upon them.
62. For Meleticism does not ask who you were, only who you are becoming in this moment in time. Each man must awaken his soul and his consciousness.
63. We did not recite doctrines or chant verses; we remembered, we reflected, and we remained in unity.
64. We did not debate to win, but dwelt together in the fertile space between opposing thoughts.
65. I often wondered what Asterion would say to these new seekers, but more often I wondered what he would ask them. He welcomed all seekers of knowledge.
66. His questions lingered longer than his answers, like the echoes that shape the silence they leave behind, but each person that listened to his answers would then reflect on them.
67. That was his ultimate gift—not the brilliance of his conclusions, but the courage he gave us to remain unfinished in our knowledge, acknowledging his own limits as a philosopher.
68. He did not give us a map, but a guidance, and trusted us to find our own way through the fog of uncertainty that often arrives in our thoughts.
69. The city of Athens around us changed, as cities always do, with new voices rising and old ones fading.
70. Loud philosophies emerged, sharp with certainty and eager to conquer the minds of the youth, but they failed to evoke the genuine wisdom of Asterion.
71. The Cynics and sceptics mocked our quiet ways, called us irrelevant in a world that worships modernity. The Stoics and Platonists misquoted our philosophy.
72. We did not answer their abrupt noise with our noise, for Meleticism is not about revenge—it is more about depth in wisdom, and wisdom for knowledge.
73. And depth in wisdom does not need to shout; it listens, it waits and it endures with great reflection. It is the reason for which man must heed to its advice.
74. I was tempted once to argue with them, to prove our worth in the arena of ideas and in the symposiums, but I remembered Asterion’s words thereafter.
75. —Let them speak their words in public. Let us remain with wisdom; for they are no threat to our will.
76. So I remained—not as a proud warrior, but as a humble witness to the quiet power of presence. This was difficult for the other philosophers to comprehend.
77. Students asked me, if Meleticism would survive the tides of time and the storms of opinion. I was glad to answer their question with reason.
78. I told them it already had, for survival is not measured in numbers, but in moments that are always present.
79. In the way one listens to others without interruption, or pauses before casting any form of judgement.
80. In the way one forgives without condition, or chooses silence over the dramatic theatre of spectacle.
81. That is Meleticism—not a mystical path to be imitated, but a lasting philosophy to be lived and experienced for what it truly represents and teaches.
82. I wrote little at first, for Asterion believed the written word could freeze thought and trap it in permanence if not explored. After his death had transpired weeks after, I began to write about his philosophical teachings more in depth.
83. So I spoke when I could, and when I could not speak, I sat in silence with those fellow companions who needed the solace of silence to encompass their thinking.
84. When I could not sit, I walked amongst the olive trees, and when I could not walk, I merely listened to the sounds of nature as they interacted with each other.
85. For listening, he taught me is the first act of philosophy and the last act of wisdom expressed. This advice was something that I would teach others to remember.
86. The young ones often asked for rules to guide them, and I gave them questions instead to make them ponder about the meaning of life and its challenges.
87. They asked for structure, and I offered space; they asked for certainty, and I gave them awareness that would prepare them for the difficulties in life.
88. And in that awareness, they found themselves—not as they had been told to be, but as they truly were in their essence. Awareness was what makes the Meletic wiser.
89. Meleticism does not promise divinity, but it invites honesty, and honesty is often uncomfortable, but peace is achieved through the realisation of one's wholeness.
90. It is the thought of being real, as the breath one takes. Asterion taught us that understanding is the only soil in which the truth can grow as undeniable evidence.
91. I saw other philosophers grow old, as all philosophers must in life, and I began to sense that they were a dying breed. It was difficult to accept that reality.
92. I would find myself without my teacher and mentor, but my will remained steady; for I had lived Meletically—not perfectly, but wisely in my actions and decisions.
93. I saw students become loyal guardians of Meleticism, and questions passed like torches from hand to hand, until the last hand would keep that torch alight.
94. I saw silence honoured in places where noise once reigned, and I knew Asterion’s way would not die, even though he would no longer be with us in person.
95. It would not die, because his message was never his alone—it belonged to all who dared to dwell in the quiet nature of his philosophy that he had revealed.
96. I did not name immediate successors, for Meleticism does not crown—it cultivates. I delayed that action. My concern was mostly preserving his teachings and to spread them. Meleticism was neither political nor religious.
97. I did not build monuments to our philosophy so that it could be glorified then, but planted seeds in the minds of those people who listened and became enlightened.
98. And those seeds grew in distant places I would never see, in hearts I would never meet. Each seed would be a testimony of the wisdom that Asterion displayed.
99. I remember Asterion’s final breath taken in life—not as a farewell, but as the passing of his wisdom. I was prepared for his death, or so I thought. His death would impact me.
100. I was to be the one from amongst his students to carry that wisdom onwards, and I carried it as he requested. When my day of death comes, I too shall pass this wisdom unto others.
101. To you, the reader of these words, thinker of your own thoughts, companion of the Meletic path. Let this testament of his enlighten you in your journey.
102. Do not follow blindly in the path of uncertainty, but walk beside the questions that shape your life, and know that these questions will unravel the uncertainties that torment you.
103. Do not forget what I have said or shared, but rediscover what he has given to you in the way of the truth and wisdom.
104. Do not glorify Asterion as a prophet sent by an omnipotent god, but contemplate life. For the greatest wonder is not a divine miracle. Instead, it is life itself.
105. Meleticism is not mine to give—it is yours to choose to follow its path with wisdom. Make your knowledge useful—do not waste it foolishly or idly. Find purpose for your knowledge.
106. Meleticism asks nothing but your presence, and offers nothing but your inner truth to be revealed by you. This is what is discovered in this philosophy.
107. And in that exchange, it lives—not in written scrolls or places of worship, but in the breath between words, and in the virtues you honour with your good deeds.
108. I do not fear death now, for I have seen it, sat beside it, and learnt from its quiet teachings. It is something that cannot be reversed or forgotten.
109. Death, too is a teacher to all of us who human beings—it reminds us to live gently, speak kindly, and listen deeply to our souls. It is in our souls, where death ultimately reaches.
110. I shall one day pass soon, as all men do in life, and my breath will pause, and my voice will fade; but as long as I am alive, I shall carry forth Asterion's vision.
111. Meleticism will remain—in gardens, in courtyards, beneath pillars, in groves, in agoras, in the streets, in circles, and in questions whispered under the stars.
112. Asterion was a mortal man, like me and you, and you are a breath of thought and feeling. We are a part of the Logos, and the Logos is an emanation of To Ena.
113. And that should be enough, for Meleticism does not require greatness—only sincerity in one's heart. Know that once you have walked the way of the truth and the path towards To Ena, you will be liberated.
114. So, walk gently through your days, speak slowly when you must, and listen fully when you can, because you will be speaking with the voice of Asterion.
115. Question bravely, forgive freely, and remain quietly in the presence of what is true. Never be complacent with what you know, or was told. Question your belief and discover its truth.
116. That is the way of the truth. That is the way that Asterion taught his students and others. To never succumb to the pressure or desire of mere conformity.
117. That is the challenge for manifold people, to walk the path of Meleticism instead of choosing faith, which the Christians profess to walk with their belief.
118. That is the inheritance—not of Asterion, not of mine, but of all who choose to walk this path and journey with courage.
119. I leave behind not only scrolls to bind your thoughts with reflection, but philosophical wisdom to inherit as well. Know that his death was not in vain.
120. I leave something greater in life which is a path, a breath and a question—to you—Have you discovered your ultimate truth?
121. I have watched the seasons turn, each one softer than the last, and I have come to understand that wisdom does not grow louder with age—it grows quieter.
122. The older I became, the less I needed to speak; for the silence between words had become my truest companion. Wisdom does not reflects one's age. Instead, it reflects one's knowledge.
123. I no longer sought to be understood, only to be present, and in that presence I found a kind of tranquillity that no other philosophy could promise.
124. The students who would come to me in later years would not ask for only teachings—they would asked for understanding, as they navigated through life.
125. They would sit with me beneath the olive trees in the grove, where Asterion once walked, and we allowed the wind to do the talking, as if Asterion was present.
126. I told them that Meleticism is not a path to follow, but a way to walk, and each step must be chosen with care and will. I sensed that they understood my message.
127. They asked me what Asterion was like, and I said—He was like the morning—gentle, clear, and quietly necessary.
128. He was not a man of spectacle, but of substance, and his greatness lay not in what he said, but in how he lived and shared the message of his philosophy.
129. Asterion never sought immortality for himself, and that is why his legacy endures—not in marble, but in the form of memory. I can attest to that reality.
130. He was a man of flesh and bones, of breath, of quiet conviction, and he gave the world Meleticism, not as a sacred gift, but more of a lasting philosophy.
131. I remember his laughter, soft and rare, like rain in summer, and I remember his silence, which taught me more than any written scroll could ever do.
132. He was not perfect, and he never pretended to be in life—he stumbled, he doubted, he wept, and he loved. He once told me that perfection can never be achieved by man, only its sheer illusion.
133. And in those moments, he showed us that wisdom is not the absence of weakness, but the courage to live with it. To understand also that we are fragile in our mortality.
134. I have tried to live as he did—not by imitating him, but by honouring the wisdom he carried. I realise that there is was only one Asterion in this world.
135. When I have failed at something, I remember that Meleticism does not measure one's failure—it measures effort, and I still have not given up in my message.
136. And in the philosophical depth of that message that I spread with my voice, I have found my inner peace. One which allows me to continue my path forth.
137. The world has changed around me, grown louder, faster, more uncertain—yet, the questions remain.
138. They wait in the quiet corners of the soul, untouched by time, and it is there that Meleticism still lives and breathes amongst us.
139. I have seen students become teachers, and teachers become philosophers, and I have seen the flame passed without any act of ceremony.
140. For Meleticism does not need worthless ceremonies—it needs readiness and awareness to be practised daily.
141. And readiness and awareness both are not linked to an actual moment—they are linked to a way of being that is epitomised through our virtuous lives.
142. I have watched the olive trees grow taller, their roots deepening as mine have weakened with weariness. They are a genuine symbol of Meleticism.
143. I no longer walked the distance as I once did, but I still lived, and living is enough for me to recognise that I too am only a mortal man. A man who one day will meet his ultimate fate.
144. Verily, I remember the whole sequence that occurred before his death and after, as if it was still yesterday. How could I even forget such a memorable event?
145. He was too weak to be much on his feet for a long period of time. Thus, he sat in a lone chair made of wood I had brought for him, for his needs. I had offered him one of marble, but he refused—saying that where he was going, nothing of material value would follow him.
146. The day was beautiful outside, and as was his habit during his days spent at my home, he would stare outside, as if he knew that nature was observing him.
147. There were days when he would ask me to take him to the grove or to the garden that was near my home. I would kindly take him and stay with him, whilst he merely watched.
148. On this occasion, that was his last day spent on the earth. One in which I shall never forget, because he proceeded to speak to me about death and the Ousia.
149. He said—Death is only a shadow of life. When we see only its darkness, then we are clueless of the light that lies beyond the darkness.
150. I was eager to know more of his vision shared—Tell me about this vision of yours.
151. He continued—The light that I speak of is similar to the light of the sun. I speak of the light of To Ena. That which is emitted from its emanation.
152. Shall I be able to see that light when he comes? —I asked Asterion, hoping to hear one last display of his wisdom.
153. He answered—You will, if you look closely, but this light will not radiate for long. Honour it, as you honour me.
154. I asked—And what of the Ousia? Will it leave your body like the soul and return to where it came from?
155. He told me it would—It will. The Ousia will be released like the soul. They no longer will dwell in the body after death.
156. The last thing he said to me was—Heromenes, I go to a place that is not divine, but where the cosmos and nature are my witnesses, and where the light of To Ena encompasses me. I do not fear death; for it will embrace me.
157. And with that, he took his last breath, before I had placed him on the bed to rest, thinking it would be more comforting to the dying body as solace to him.
158. When he finally died the things that he had revealed would occur, as he had told me they would. First, the skies had darkened, and from that darkness emerged his shadow, disappearing into the veil of the darkness.
159. It was then that the sun returned and with it its vibrant light. At first, the light had blinded me, but then it had allowed me to see it. For a brief glimpse afterwards, I could perceive the presence of To Ena, the One before me.
160. I was not the only one to have see it briefly in the form of the light. The other students of Asterion who were present and were four did as well. They had formed the inner circle. Their names were Zagreus, Sosibios, Polybios and Thalia.
161. We were absolutely stunned by the natural occurrence, and when we spoke about it, we thought about what Asterion had previously told us before his death.
162. His body became stiff and his eyes which were wide opened, were closed one last time. It was the visible sign of the end of his mortality.
163. I could not erase the image of his passing. He died a peaceful death.
Asterion would be then buried near the precious grove that he once cherished in life.
164. Each of us who witnessed not only his passing but the light that was of To Ena would speak of it in our remembrance of Asterion's philosophy and life. The world has lost a great man, and a great philosopher. Asterion who had once been stabbed, enslaved, imprisoned, rejected and exiled during his long life was not glorified like the Nazarene, yet he too suffered.
165. I have walked through the episodes of grief, through failure, through love, and through silence, but none were so vivid as the death of my mentor, Asterion.
166. And in each step I have taken, I have carried his memory and asked the question: What does it mean to live wisely in life?
167. I have discovered that the answer to that question lies not only in my wisdom, but in the way of the truth that he once taught me to live as a man.
168. That is sufficient to know what importance my wisdom has and the relevance of the truth that I aspired to attain.
169. That is Meleticism, the philosophy that I was taught by Asterion will not fade into a nameless oblivion, as long as there are philosophers that are Meletics.
170. I shall pass this philosophy unto others, and my ephemeral breath will become a genuine part of the wind that moves these olive trees that I seat under.
171. But the path will remain, and others will walk it like I have done, and the questions will continue to be asked. And the answers will continue to be discovered.
172. Do not mourn me, for I have dwelt and lived well compared to others who have suffered more. Be a guardian to others, as to your self, body, mind and soul—said Asterion a day before his death.
173. He told me to not remember him for Meleticism, for he was not the point. He was only its messenger. I was to carry that message unto others.
174. Remember the silence, the questions, the awareness, the way Asterion smiled when he did not know, but persisted in his philosophy. He was never vain, and he conceded when did not know.
175. Remember that wisdom is not absolute certainty—it is courage to search beyond one's knowledge.
176. Remember that the truth is not one's gain or loss—it is the mirror of one's actual reflection of the self.
177. Remember that Meleticism is not a mere philosophy to follow—it is a way of being and the way of the truth.
178. And that being and the truth, Asterion taught us daily in his words are the greatest gifts we shall ever have as people.
179. So I tell you, be present in your mind and soul, and be honest to your self and body. Allow your wisdom to grow with your knowledge.
180. Be gentle to others and yourself, and be brave amidst all adversities and struggles. Allow your virtues to guide your character.
181. When you are unsure, remain determined. For in remaining, you honour the path towards To Ena.
182. In remaining, you honour the man that was Asterion. In remaining, you honour yourself as well.
183. I leave you no answers that you cannot solve yourself. I leave you no map that you cannot trace on your own.
184. I leave you only this, which is the logos itself. A breath that is not eternal but lasting, as the word.
185. A question that is not unanswerable but solved. A silence that is not deafened but understood.
186. And a path that is not impossible but possible. Walk it as you are with the steps that you take.
187. Change it as you must, with the passing of seasons, and you will find your liberation.
188. Share it as you can with others, all the knowledge you have gained through his wisdom.
189. When you reach the end of life as it stares into death, do not look back to see your shadow.
190. Look inwards into yourself instead. There, you will find what you are searching for.
191. Look gently into your heart first. There, you will grow with the seed of compassion and the virtue of humbleness.
192. Look honestly into your soul deeply. There, you will release your burdens and fears that will linger no longer.
193. And if you find nothing, remain. Do not walk away. It is easy to walk away than to stay.
194. For that is where Meleticism begins in one's journey. It is the awareness to walk in silence amidst the noise and the deceit.
195. Not in the knowing what will come, but in the dwelling within the presence of living that embodies the essence of being.
196. And in that presence of life, you become aware of To Ena, and why you have chosen the path towards it as a person who is enlightened.
197. Walk with the light with courage, as you walk your path. Do not fear death, but embrace life.
198. Know that your death is only a precursor to your return to that which gave you birth in the beginning, To Ena.
199. Death is not the same as life. It takes one's breath, but it does not take away the memory of one in the minds of others.
200. Thus, do not fear death, when its shadow will come one day. Know that the light of To Ena will come afterwards. The light that will eventually free you.
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