The first of Knecht’s three Lives is set in a tribal, matriarchal past. In one of these villages, the tribal mother ruled over the people with her daughters. These women and a reclusive male Rainmaker kept all the knowledge of the village. One evening, a young orphan boy, Knecht, and the daughter of the Rainmaker, Ada, listened to a woman speak about the Witches’ Village. The story terrified Ada, so Knecht led her home. At Rainmaker Turu’s door, Knecht caught a glimpse of the man’s magic rituals. Turu chided Ada for being timid but promised to collect a protective root.

Knecht often tried to observe the unusual and solitary man, and after much resistance, Turu began teaching him his secret knowledge. Eventually, Turu accepted Knecht as an official apprentice, which distinguished the boy among his peers. The Rainmaker had a heightened skill for observing the natural and celestial world. One night, Turu betrothed Ada to Knecht and claimed his own spirit would return when they had a son. In this moment, Knecht awoke to both his future and the mysteries of the universe. An inner voice urged him to remember his connection to all things; if he kept this awareness, he could access the seemingly magic knowledge that the Rainmaker and tribal mother had.

The Rainmaker’s distinction manifested in the rituals he performed: the spring sowing, weather-making, and private magic. Turu shared this knowledge with Knecht by example rather than speech, and Knecht learned to observe and to make predictions from these observations. Knecht eventually married Ada, and when Rainmaker Turu died, Knecht assumed his role. Knecht and Ada had many children, including a boy named Turu. Knecht matured into his role as official Rainmaker, and his reverence for the moon and for his own mortality grew.

Knecht faced his first troubles as Rainmaker when none of his rituals eased the suffering of his people amid a two-year drought. He encountered many other trials, and from these, he learned that the average person would rather seek quick fixes than learn discipline. Knecht learned to meet his people halfway, and he continually expanded his knowledge. A youth, Maro, began following Knecht around. Like his own mentor, Knecht rebuffed the boy before accepting him as a pupil. However, Maro was attracted to rainmaking out of a desire for distinction rather than knowledge and service. Knecht dismissed the boy after finding him practicing rituals in exchange for presents. Knecht took on Turu as an apprentice; he fared better, and Maro became his enemy.

In Knecht’s later years, a frightening meteor display ripped across the skies and caused panic throughout the village. Knecht accepted the burden for this event, wishing he had informed others of the foreboding he felt before that night. The people were in a frenzy about the end of the world and couldn’t be reasoned with, so Knecht performed a rhythmic prayer to alleviate their anxieties. The movement and song went on for hours and calmed the village. The village looked back on this day with laughter and excitement, but it troubled Knecht greatly.

In the spring, Knecht had difficulty reading the signs of nature. He delayed the sowing ritual, but at last, he had to conduct the ceremony, even if the time wasn’t right. The ceremony was postponed, however, due to the tribe mother’s death and funeral. Seeds were sown, but a drought killed all plants by the summer. Knecht performed rituals and sacrifices, but Maro poisoned the people against the Rainmaker’s actions. Ultimately, Knecht proposed to sacrifice himself and named Turu his successor. A solemn procession followed Knecht into the woods, where he asked Maro to be his executioner. Maro couldn’t bring himself to kill his old master, so the new tribe mother chose a friendly elderly man for the task. After Knecht died, Turu oversaw his cremation.

The second life takes place in Gaza during the third century. As a young boy, Josephus Famulus converted to Christianity, and at age 36, he embarked on a pilgrimage into the desert and spent his days praying and fasting. Josephus lived as an eremite and learned that he had a superior skill for listening. He grew famous for his ability, and many troubled people visited his hermitage to make confessions. Josephus listened patiently to all manner of sin, said the Lord’s prayer, and kissed each speaker on the brow. Though Josephus found this work rewarding, he struggled with sinful feelings of pride. As time passed, Josephus saw his life as a tedious and joyless routine that brought him no closer to the peace he sought. He tried to fight the feelings off, but he was assailed by thoughts of suicide. One day, so frightened by the prospect of more confessions, Josephus gathered a few belongings and ran away. With distance, he realized that he was not wrong to leave the role; he only lamented that it took him so long to act.

Josephus stayed the night at a watering hole with other travelers. As he drifted to sleep, he overheard a young and old man’s conversation about different father confessors. The young man wanted to find Josephus Famulus and confess to him, but the old man was skeptical. He suggested visiting Father Dion Pugil, who had a more forceful approach. Josephus resolved to visit Father Dion himself and set out the next morning. When he reached an oasis, he met an elderly man and asked for directions. Josephus told the man his identity and purpose, which the old man questioned mockingly.

The next morning, the old man led Josephus on his journey. The pair set out walking, rested, and arrived at another settlement. Josephus was impatient to reach Father Dion, and to his surprise, the old man claimed that he was that very man. Josephus made his confession about the unsatisfactory way he was living and the despair he felt. Father Dion made the sign of the cross and kissed Josephus on the brow. Josephus continued traveling with Dion to his home, where he lived with the man and slowly began listening to confessions again.

On one memorable occasion, Josephus sat in while Father Dion listened to a scholar make heretical claims about theology and the zodiac. Josephus was shocked that Father Dion didn’t correct the man, but Dion claimed that there was no need to convert someone who was obviously living happily. The man reminded Father Dion of his younger scholarly days, but philosophizing caused him immense mental agitation, so he promised never to engage in such discussions again. Dion explained that he was often harsh with his visitors because they came to him like children wanting punishment. Conversely, all he could offer Josephus was acknowledgement, since they were mindful men who couldn’t escape their sins so easily.

Josephus continued living and working with Father Dion as he aged, sometimes listening to confessions in his place. When Dion recognized his ailments, he asked Josephus to help dig his grave and named him his successor and son. One day, Dion told Josephus his side of the story of how they met. He had the same despairing thoughts and feelings of worthlessness, so he decided to seek Josephus out to make a confession. Dion serendipitously met Josephus on his pilgrimage, but to his disappointment, the younger man was also fleeing his post. Dion meditated and determined that he would help Josephus and so help himself. Dion’s parting words instructed Josephus not to give in to despair. The following day, Father Dion died, and Josephus buried him in the grave they had dug together.

The final Life takes place in ancient India. The Rajah Ravana had a son, Dasa, whose stepmother wanted her own child, Nala, to succeed to the throne. Before she could enact a violent plan, a Brahman gave Dasa to a loyal herdsman to raise in the hills. One day, while walking in the woods, Dasa came upon a wise yogi meditating. The man was in such a state of holy serenity that Dasa feared to disturb him, but nothing in the physical world was likely to affect the yogi’s attitude. Dasa watched him for hours before finally making his way home. He brought gifts to the holy man every evening, and when the herd moved on, Dasa dreamed of following in the yogi’s footsteps.

Dasa visited the capital for a festival honoring Nala’s succession. He looked at the festivities with awe, though he disliked the vanity of the young prince, and took part in all the festival’s indulgences before returning home. There, Dasa fell in love with a farmer’s daughter, Pravati, and married her. The young couple lived in bliss, building their own home and working Pravati’s father’s fields. After a year, the Rajah Nala set up a hunting camp nearby, and Dasa came home to find Pravati gone. After staking out the campsite, Dasa discovered that she was staying in Nala’s tent. Overcome with anguish, Dasa killed Nala and escaped as a fugitive into the hills.

Dasa lived as a vagabond, and his wanderings brought him back to the yogi’s hut, and this time, he joined him. Dasa stayed with the yogi and built his own hut nearby; he gathered food and water, and he tried to mimic the man’s meditative posture. On a day of heightened agitation, Dasa finally spoke to the yogi. He explained the cause of his suffering and asked for help. The yogi simply looked at Dasa, laughed, and shouted, “Maya!” That night, Dasa puzzled over this word, which seemed to encapsulate the absurdity of his life.

In the morning, Dasa asked the yogi to explain Maya. The yogi gave Dasa the gourd to fetch water, which he did, but while he was at the river, Pravati appeared and beckoned to him. Dasa rushed to his wife and forgot about the yogi. Pravati claimed that the royal court was looking for Dasa to install him as the rightful heir. She brought him to her nearby camp, and a procession advanced toward the capital. Dasa quickly learned his role and bore a son with Pravati named Ravana. The couple indulged in their riches, but occasionally, Dasa looked at the luxury of his life with fear that it all might suddenly perish.

One day, the neighboring Prince Govinda, a close friend of Nala’s mother, raided the border of Dasa’s kingdom. Dasa rode out with his soldiers to right this wrong. Along the way, he contemplated his violent actions, which sprang from a duty to his people and his son. Violence between the kingdoms ensued for a long time. Dasa felt ensnared and wanted to seek peace, but Pravati argued that war was the only answer. Each day, Dasa grew more despondent. He reflected on his relationship with Pravati, which was estranged, and all the suffering his love for her had caused him. He wasn’t sure that this current life was worth leaving the life of a yogi behind. As war approached, Dasa sought an alliance with other princes, but they refused. Ultimately, Govinda tricked Dasa’s forces, and while they were occupied, he struck the castle and killed Ravana. Dasa furiously rode for the capital but was taken prisoner. Govinda took over the kingdom, showed Dasa his deceased son, and threw him in a dungeon, where he longed for death.

When Dasa awoke from a brief sleep, he was back at the river filling the yogi’s gourd. He wept when he realized his life was all an illusion the yogi conjured to teach him about Maya. He questioned whether his past and his future were all an illusion, too, and he resolved to seek whatever peace would free him from the cycle of suffering. He brought the gourd back to the yogi. The old man looked at Dasa with sympathy and wordlessly accepted him as a pupil.