Yarlessto and Dertulian.
One was a priest and the other a hunter, as well as brothers, supposedly close as can be.
However, contrary to expectations, Dertulian did not take kindly to his elder brother Yarlessto.
Coincidentally, Yarlessto also did not take kindly to his younger brother.
Dertulian found his father in the Pattern Garden.
Al was sitting among other priests in the middle of a wheat field, his hair white with age; Dertulian was startled to see his father's hair looking as though spiders might crawl out of it.
Dertulian was shocked, having not anticipated that his father would have aged so greatly, and unconsciously stepped forward.
Then, he saw a familiar figure flickering through the wheat, it was Yarlessto.
Dertulian felt a wave of revulsion and stopped in his tracks.
Al sat surrounded by priests, narrating something to the crowd, with Yarlessto sitting closest to him.
Dertulian found himself irritated.
He did not know where this irritation stemmed from—jealousy, or dislike... he had never liked his brother.
He was strong, whereas his brother was gaunt; he was courageous, while his brother was exceedingly cautious; he excelled in hunting and fighting, while his brother often indulged in the laws of the world and God's revelations.
He was so different from his father, yet Yarlessto resembled their father so closely.
Watching his father and brother in the Pattern Garden, Dertulian stopped in his tracks, clenched his fists, hesitated for a long while, and ultimately did not set foot into the Pattern Garden.
Inside the Pattern Garden,
Al and Yarlessto did not notice that Dertulian had been there.
Yarlessto picked up a handful of wheat ears, pointed to them, and shared a new discovery with his father:
"Father, some have tried grinding these wheat ears and adding water inside, you know, they stick together just like clay. I heard this rumor, tried it myself, and indeed, they stick together, easier to swallow than before."
Prophet Al, though aged, still had a spirited look. He carefully examined the wheat ears in Yarlessto's hands, then said:
"Yarlessto, we have discussed this many times, wheat can never be the foundation of a great nation; no one has ever lacked meat and berries in this world."
Yarlessto dropped his hands, and upon seeing his father deny his ideas once more, anger surged within him, he said:
"If there comes a day when we lack meat and berries, and hunger and cold assail us, only these wheat ears might save us!"
Al stared straight at Yarlessto, and spoke:
"There will never be such a day, the world is so vast, there will never come such a day."
"The beasts of the forest may all die out one day."
Yarlessto stood up angrily and said,
"Father, do you really think the Logos will always be God's chosen people?!"
The sound of Yarlessto's voice thundered in the Pattern Garden, stunning the surrounding priests. For nearly a hundred years, no one had ever dared to utter such heretical words, nor had anyone dared to speak to the Prophet in such a tone.
Al lifted his face, staring at his eldest son with a gaze filled with scrutiny and anger.
The similarities between Yarlessto and Al were not as many as Dertulian had imagined.
On the contrary, the views between father and son often clashed like fire and water, utterly irreconcilable.
For instance, Al believed that the laws of the world always proceeded from higher to lower; the higher the law, the more concise and unreducible it was, with God being the supreme law.
Yarlessto did not share this view; in his eyes, law or philosophy often consisted of a piling up of laws, with God and His creation as the foundation of all fundamental laws.
This was even more the case when it came to the duty of priests.
As a prophet, Al believed that God's election was eternal and applied universally to every Logos.
Yarlessto, however, held a skeptical view, believing that the blessings received by the Logos were merely good fortune in passing, and that God's chosen were only the Prophets, with the rest of the Logos being merely ordinary people.
"Is there nothing you truly believe in, Yarlessto?"
Al rebuked Yarlessto.
"Do you have to believe in everything?!"
Yarlessto retorted against his father.
The father and son had fundamental differences in their mentalities, fighting incessantly like enemies.
Now, a dilemma concerning the survival of civilization itself lay before them.
How could they conquer death?
Neither father nor son believed that the Sapo King could find the way to Eternal Life.
In the face of this insurmountable chasm that the entire civilization had exhausted themselves trying to cross, Al's only reliance was on his eldest son, Yarlessto.
None of the Priests of Logos had the perception of wisdom as Yarlessto did—
not even the Prophet himself.
Yet, they had expended nearly a hundred years of time and had not touched even the slightest bit of the answer.
The Kingdom continued to expand outward, and as days passed into distance, the Sapo King's desire for Eternal Life did not wane but grew ever more intense.
Inside the palace, the Sapo King stared absent-mindedly at the hall before him.
Attendants stood on the left and right of the throne; they had seen the Sapo King lost in thought on the throne countless times.
And as the Kingdom's borders expanded, the Sapo King did not improve but became more frequently lost in thought.
The attendants did not know what the Sapo King was thinking. No one could know what the King of the Logos, the first man to receive language, was pondering—not the Queen, not the King's progeny, perhaps only God could know.
But then,
Did God want to know?
The Sapo King gazed at the empty great hall.
Suddenly, he asked,
"When will we find Eternal Life?"
The attendants were startled, not expecting the Sapo King to speak out suddenly and unprepared to respond, they leaned forward awkwardly, about to speak then hesitating.
Fortunately, at that moment, outside the palace, the Sapo King's eldest son slowly ascended the steps.
The Sapo King raised his head, staring at his eldest son as he walked steadily towards the throne.
"My King. It's time to return, Mother sent me to persuade you to rest."
The Sapo King stared intently at his eldest son, as if looking at a stranger, scrutinizing him from head to toe.
The eldest son looked up, shivering with fear under the Sapo King's scrutiny.
The Sapo King looked at the shivering child and felt a surge of disappointment.
Was this his child? Was this the one to inherit his throne?
So cowardly...
Thinking this, the Sapo King felt even sadder about death.
None of his descendants resembled him.
If so, after his death, how long would his spirit persist?
Prophet Al had brought an answer about death a hundred years ago, and the Sapo King had accepted that answer, but as the vigor of youth gradually faded and the glory of the past could not return, the Sapo King felt a fear of death, along with a powerless sorrow.
That sorrow was deeper than his fear.