At the end of his wandering, Kael came upon a gate without hinges, standing in the void where even light dared not step. Upon its surface was written a single phrase, older than thought:
"Before all forms, I Am."
Kael fell upon his knees and wept, for in that utterance he understood that all visions, all teachers, all riddles had been but shadows dancing upon the walls of a greater Light.
He placed his hand upon the gate, but it did not open, for there was nothing beyond it. Instead, a Hand reached out from the unseen, vast and certain, and rested upon his brow.
The Hand said nothing, for its silence was more eloquent than speech. Its touch was both gentle and unyielding, and within it Kael felt both annihilation and embrace.
And in that moment, he knew the Unnamed One not as stranger, not as master, but as the very pulse of his being, the Stranger and the Father, the Root and the Crown, the Breath that dreams all breaths.
Then Kael rose, no longer seeking to pass the gate, for he had understood: the gate had never been other than himself, and the Hand had never been other than the source of his own hand.
Thus Kael learned the Fifth Mystery: that all teachings are ladders meant to be cast aside once the sky is reached, for the sky alone is eternal.