Beside a raging river, a young man and an elderly man with a long, slightly greying beard walked at a steady pace.
„Elder, Elder!" another young man exclaimed, running after them.
The elder paused, as did the young man beside him.
„Yes, dear Vasily?" the elder asked, turning toward him.
Vasily lowered his gaze, fixing it upon the cross that hung from the elder's neck. Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes wide, and said:
"The King has come to your cell!"
The elder was taken aback, yet without hesitation decided to follow Vasily back to his dwelling, where he found the King waiting.
„ I greet you, Your Majesty," Vasily said with a slight bow.
„I have heard," said the King, "that you give the best spiritual counsel in all my domain."
The elder only smiled gently and replied humbly, "I speak as I hear."
The King remained silent for a while, studying the elder and the two young men. Then, after what felt like hours, he suddenly asked:
„Elder, I have conquered many lands, have I not?"
„Indeed, Your Majesty," the elder answered.
„And I have ruled righteously, have I not?" the King pressed.
„It is as you say, Your Majesty," the elder replied.
„Then why, Elder? Why do I feel so empty? Everyone around me says I will live on for hundreds of years in the memory of men!"
The elder remained silent. Vasily, in particular, was captivated. He knew the elder never spoke lightly.
At last, the elder said:
"Your Majesty, you are indeed going to live on even for a thousand years."
The King was startled.
"Then why, Elder? Why do I feel as though I will vanish tomorrow? Why-"
Before he could finish, the elder's gaze turned to the icon of the Risen Christ nearby. He continued:
"But why not eternally?"
Vasily's heart began to race. Though he did not fully understand, he knew these words would shape his life forever. The word eternally echoed within him again and again.
He glanced at the King, who seemed even more shaken than himself.
The King, unable to speak at first, stared at the elder for a long time before finally asking:
"What do you mean, Elder?"
The elder's gaze rested on the King. "I mean, Your Majesty, that the heart of man was made for eternity. And when man lost God, he lost the Infinite. Now the heart longs for what it has lost, it aches for boundlessness. That is why, though you possess many lands, you feel as though you possess nothing."
The King was silent for a moment, his lips trembling.
"Then… was I not made for this world? For its crowns, its songs, its victories?"
The elder smiled gently. "No, Your Majesty. As it is written: 'Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.'"
He paused briefly, then continued:
"But do not misunderstand. 'The world' here does not mean creation itself, but the corruption within it. Have compassion and love for all creation, for it is God's handiwork. Yet die to the passions, and let the passions die in you. For the Lord also said: 'You are not of this world.'"
The King lowered his eyes, pondering. "Then if I am not of this world.. for what was I made?"
The elder's gaze grew brighter, and his voice deepened with gravity.
„You were made, Majesty, not to rule for a season, but to reign forever. Not beside men who perish, but beside God who is eternal. For He created man in His own image, not to be a slave of dust, but to share in His glory."
Vasily's heart leapt within him, and he could not hold back. "Yes, Majesty," he said with quiet fervor, "the elder once told me: man is not merely to live, but to live with God; not merely to serve, but to reign with Him in love. All that we lose in this world is nothing compared to the kingdom prepared for us."
The elder laid a hand upon Vasily's shoulder, affirming his words. "Indeed. Your Majesty, the emptiness you feel is the echo of your true calling. You were made for eternity, to behold God, to be filled with His light, and to stand at His side in His kingdom. All other thrones fall; His alone endures. And He desires that man, His creature, should sit with Him."
The King's face grew pale, his eyes glistening. "To reign.. with God?" he whispered. "Then what are my victories worth, if they keep me from that?"
The elder bowed his head slightly. "They are worth only as much as they lead you to Him. Apart from Him, they perish with the earth. But in Him, even the smallest act of love shines brighter than all your battles."
The King trembled, torn between awe and sorrow. "Then I see it I have spent my years grasping shadows, when eternity itself was being offered to me."
Vasily, his heart aflame, looked upon the King with compassion. "Majesty, the shadows may still give way to light."
The King trembled, his gaze fixed on the icon of the Risen Christ. For a long while he said nothing, his breath uneven, as though words themselves had deserted him. Finally, he whispered:
„Then what must I do, Elder, to gain such a kingdom?"
The elder looked on him with compassion. "Lay down the crown of this world, and take up the cross of the Lord. Seek not to be remembered by men, but to be known by God. If you give Him your heart, He will give you eternity."
The King's hand moved to his crown, and he gripped it tightly, torn. His lips trembled.
„But Elder..how can I lay down my crown? Have I not been entrusted with a people? Would abandoning it not be abandoning them?"
The elder's eyes softened. "Your Majesty, God gave you this crown, and He does not despise it. Rule your people with justice, protect them with mercy, but do not cling to the crown as though it were your life. A crown is dust, but a heart belongs to eternity. Lay it down in your soul, and place it at the feet of Christ. Then, whether you reign over many or few, you will reign with Him forever."
The King closed his eyes, struck by both the burden and the release. Slowly, his grip loosened. He bowed low, the crown slipping from his head to the ground, and he remained in silence.
Vasily watched, overwhelmed. His own heart beat like a drum within him.For the first time, he understood: to live was not simply to breathe, to labor, to triumph, but to walk toward God, step by step, until all was fulfilled in Him.
The elder at last spoke again, his voice gentle, almost like a prayer:
"Your Majesty, every man is a pilgrim. Some travel from land to land, conquering cities. But the true pilgrimage is of the soul, from corruption to incorruption, from death to life, from the shadows of this world to the unending light of God. That is the road to eternity."
The King bowed his head still lower, and a tear fell upon the floor of the cell. Vasily saw it, and his heart burned within him, as though the tear itself was a seal of truth.
The river outside roared on, unceasing, like the passage of time itself. Yet within that humble cell, time seemed to stand still.
When at last they departed, the King walked slowly, silently, as though carrying a weight unseen. Vasily followed after the elder, but in his soul, something had changed. The word eternity echoed within him not as an idea, but as a summons.
He did not yet know what path lay before him, nor what trials awaited. But he knew this: his life could no longer be his own. He, too, was now a pilgrim.
A Pilgrim towards Eternity.