The wizard knew that the world thought it needed money. He knew that he didn't need money, but that it still pre-occupied his thoughts. He had done works of magic unsurpassed by many others, and decided that now it was time to make some money appear. He delighted at the prospect of doing this. He looked forward to the thrill of seeing it appear. He had no idea where it would come from. But, he already knew it was coming.
He quieted his mind. He'd grown good at this, and he soon started to see new avenues opening up. He didn't have any ideas. He was going to make it happen by willing it into existence. He decided to test the water with a small amount of money. He decided to make $500 appear. If he could do it with this amount, he knew, it was possible to do it with any amount. Then, he reconsidered. He decided to make $1,000,000 appear. This amount was a benchmark by American standards. If you could be a millionare, you were a hero. If you could make a million bucks, people would take you seriously.
He heard the voice say these thoughts and felt shame. He still heard the lurking demon of need prying his mind open for the slaughter. He heard the little rascal telling him that he needed this, he needed that, he wasn't enough of this, he was too much of that, and he decided to stop listening. He listened for the silence, and was astounded by what he heard. There was nothing there. Nothing. The vacuum begged for him to jump in and start creating. The vacuum welcomed his presence. The world was not manifest, and it was waiting in embryo for him to speak the word. And yet, he was having petty thoughts about money.
His mind raced back and forth, trying to think the right thoughts, then trying to stifle the wrong thoughts. The stinking demon he'd invented was going to poison his magic with filth. He was going to let it happen. He couldn't allow this. He wouldn't. He had to speak his spell from the vacuum of black nothing.
He needed to find oblivion, and until then, his spell would have no power. He would simply be re-creating the demon's whispers. He had to drive a stake into the devil's heart forever. This, he knew, would create a greater, more terrifying devil for him to contend with. He relished the thought. Until he fought the greater demon, the lesser one would continue to torment him. He needed to walk the coals and burn himself black. He needed to face into the steel pain of cold sharp death, and then, his little cowardly demon would go silent for good. He would awaken the new one, and the demon would soar to Heaven.
He was free. He always had been. He just knew that he needed to break out from his own thought-prison. There was no figuring anything out. There was no going anywhere. There was no hope. The only escape was to love the cell. He would be here for eternity, so he might as well fall in love with his prison.
The thoughts raged on for a time. Then, a quiet came. The demon continued yapping like a little chihuahua, but he ignored it, and soon the noise drowned away like gentle, lapping waves on the shore line. His ears fell deaf to the little tormented one. And then, the demon was free. The demon soared high, kissing him on the cheek and thanking him. It turned into a little bird. It flew away, now free to explore the everlasting beyond. He grew sad. He missed the songbird who had always sung to him on those cold mornings when there was nothing for him. He missed his cold, cruel lover who had comforted him in those days of eternal frustration. He wanted it back, but only for a brief second. He knew, in that moment as the little Phoenix flew from his sight, that he would never see her again. All things, good and evil, must come to an end.
He had hated that demon. It brought a tear to his eye. The little rascal that had tormented him with thoughts of burning rage, temptation to fall away from the great things, and thoughts of despair was sent as a messenger from God. The demon had given him nothing but love. He had never been grateful until the demon got its wings and flew from him. But it was time to move on. Death was coming soon, and soon he would get his wings. His time on this earth was short, and he had many spells to cast.
Free from the loving demon, he now knew how to enter the silent tower. He ascended the stairs in his mind. One by one, he reached the top of the building, and it was quiet in the inner sanctum. He could finally hear the Truth. And there was nothing there. His spells could finally work now.
He began to re-examine his challenge for bringing $1,000,000 into his life. Money was just a symbol, of course, but he wanted to see a sign. He wanted a stake to drive into the ground. He knew that the Greater Demon would rise from the pit, and amass huge armies of ugly thought. He knew this because the Greater Demon was already awake in him. His own gratitude had done that. He had created the Greater Demon already, just by thinking him into existence. He welcomed the challenge, and wanted to play a game.
He put himself to the silence. He could see nothing, and he could hear nothing. He embraced nothing in all its splendor, until the entire world disappeared. He saw the world emerge and fade numerous times in his mind. He saw all of existence come and go. He saw the dust form clumps, and he saw the clumps start walking around. He saw himself inhabiting one of those clumps, and then leaving. He saw the clump leaving a message for other clumps. He was a messenger. That was his job.
On the seventh floor of the Cone, he sat and saw it all. Then, it all returned to nothing. He began to repeat this ritual, and visions started to come to him in his sleep. Deep, rich visions of new worlds he was bound to create. Visions of him flying through rich cliffs of colorful vegetation. Visions that showed him tasting new fruits of new planets, new stars, and making love to women whose beauty he'd never imagined.
Then, it was all gone. Back to nothing again. He saw himself rising and falling, letting the dark waves and the storm carry him through chaos into glory. He saw himself sitting at the foot of a grand golden throne, kneeling. He saw clouds in the top of the hall. He saw the rains coming. He felt himself called. He had a message to give, and he needed to shout it loud enough that it would echo through eternity. He needed the word that would rebound from nothing into everlasting life. He needed to speak those words loud enough that they would rebound from the nothing and take on new surprising forms. He wanted to leave wonderful surprises for everyone to find.
Then, he saw discord. It could not be. His word could only be perfect, or else it risked poisoning eternity. If he misspoke the words even slightly, he could bring horrors into existence that would never go away. He saw a glass mirror shattering into a thousand fragments and spraying blood everywhere. Then, nothing.
Only one word could stay through all eternity. The wrong word would die. Eternity was safe from his folly. This was a relief. He set out in search of that word, and he soon found it.
His million dollars appeared shortly afterward. When the million dollars showed up, he was so happy he couldn't stop smiling all day. He took some friends out to dinner that night, and he gave some generous gifts. After paying his debts, he gave away most of the money. Then, he decided to do it again. This time, with a billion dollars. That's when things became challenging.
