rogue_4

'Djall Nymph, tell me. What do you picture from the hall and corridors of this bell tower?'

'It still looks like Kazdel's Soul Furnace. We're in the maintenance passage leading to its core, the walls look like they've been patched up with scraps of Oriron over the last two centuries, there are dimly glowing Originium lamps, and the place even smells familiar... I can hardly believe it.'

'We have undoubtedly been walking alongside each other, but all I see are the bright white walls and reliefs sculpted by the Anasa.'

'But...'

'Is that such a problem? We have been traveling together, so surely we can reach our destination together as well.'

The enlightened leads Nymph as they navigate the passages she is most familiar with. They pass through the final door, entering the ritual site from her memories. The same place where she, her companions, and their ancestors crafted these illusions with their stories.

There is no one else around, but something is burning quietly inside the furnace.

They soon sit on the ground, the furnace flames warming her up.

'Djall Nymph, tell me. Why have you followed me here?' The enlightened asks again.

'Because you said you had stories to tell me? Um, also, I think you might know how to send me back to my original Kazdel?'

'You have such a concrete goal, and my words have become your motivation. If you were a layperson wishing to become a true Anasa, I might have deemed you unsuitable and said 'Only by letting go of what you see can you escape the myriad souls' cycle.' However, that is not the case here. So I will say, you are correct. I have a story for you, and afterward, I shall send you back.'

Nymph nods. She has long since prepared for this.

'Let us begin from the story, an extremely short tale.'

After Qui'lon awakened, he made a friend.

The friend was a great Pandita, an erudite sage and scientist. The Pandita cast the very first bell, and spread the method throughout Lokadhatu. With the sound of the bells, both people and nature were able to promise each other not to do the other harm.

But even such a great Pandita had no choice but to say this to Qui'lon:

'In Trisahasra Mahasahasra Loka, the living must die, and the cycle of reincarnation must end. The same goes for calamity, but I am unable and unwilling to eliminate it.'

Qui'lon had closed his eyes, and answered with a single word.

On hearing it, the great Pandita had a sudden realization, and walked the same path as Qui'lon, spreading the ways of enlightenment, guiding souls out of the myriad souls' cycle of reincarnation, thus the enlightened continue to emerge.

The great Pandita then told Qui'lon: 'I have done all that I can, and now I shall take my leave.'

'What a wonder to peacefully exist outside the laws of dharma, to perhaps not lose yourself within fleeting illusions. Wonderful.' Those were the last words of the great Pandita. After that the Pandita left, to whereabouts unknown. This happened a century, or perhaps a millennium ago.

'—The end.'

The enlightened finishes his story in just a moment.

'Um.... may I ask, what was I supposed to learn from that story?'

To be honest, Nymph didn't get it at all.

'Djall Nymph, you firmly believe that, by weaving your words, you have come to or even created this realm.'

'I do not doubt this at all. Your words linger here, and I can not only hear, but also feel the waves they make as they construct everything in this realm. All life and death are inseparably close with each other.

'You were also confused when I described how the 'Four Kings' came to be. Perhaps you know of more than four who have donned a crown of black. This implies the Qui'lon from your land—the 'true' Qui'lon—is someone dead to you.

'But that does not matter. The Anasa do not cling to the existence or annihilation of any form, nor to where they come from or where they go.

'That is precisely why the 'Citymaker' did not ask how your Kazdel is faring, nor did the 'Farchaser' ask if his guards were safe and sound.'

Nymph feels the scene before her waver for just a moment.

'Mm, the waves are rising once more.' The enlightened smiles slightly.

'So, worry not about how Katsidiya appears. You are already in your furnace, while I remain in my bell tower. We hold no karmic ties, and wheresoever Katsidiya goes will not be affected by your actions.'

'Um, so you mean, even if the illusion turns to reality again, I don't have to regard it as something I actually created, and I don't need to let it burden me mentally?'

'You, or all of you, it is the same—this is the first to learn herefrom.'

'And the second?'

'Do you still remember the final words of the great Pandita?'

'You mean, 'What a wonder to peacefully exist outside the laws of dharma, to perhaps not lose yourself within fleeting illusions'?'

'Good. I hope you take those words back with you as-is. This is the second.'

'But... Sorry, I don't understand what it means, and you haven't explained anything either...'

'Enlightenment need not occur on a fixed date. Just remembering it will suffice.'

The enlightened finishes and stands. Nymph understands the time has come.

'Then please, could you at least tell me what you said to enlighten the great Pandita?'

'I already told you. Just recall it.'

The enlightened reaches out to pull Nymph up, and a bell seems to ring, resounding from everywhere around them at the exact same time.

'When you have your answer, tell it to your companions. How we converse is Katsidiya's solution to 'survival'!'

The enlightened shouts out these words, and that is the very last sentence Nymph hears in Katsidiya.

The Enlightened and the King of Sarkaz meet, centuries after the last obsessed in Lokadhatu, saw the light.

The sides of the sloped path of Katsidiya are still covered in green, but the curious tourists and devoted pilgrims are both long gone. The chanting and debates amidst the viharas have ceased, and the Fire Dharmapalas are nowhere to be seen. Even the thunderstorms in the distance have ceased, and there is only oasis as far as the eye can see.

At the end of the long slope of soil and stone is a tranquil lotus pond. Pearl-white lotuses bloom within, their numbers beyond the billions, gently filling the air with a sweet scent. Ashoka trees sway gently by the pond, golden rays shining through their verdant leaves. All is peace in Katsidiya, with only the heavy ringing of the bells emanating from the great white bell tower into the distance.

The Enlightened and the King of Sarkaz sit in the tranquility.

This is not the first time they have met. In the Lokadhatu beyond, it was always the King of Sarkaz who spoke first.

'Does the salvation of the land lie in emptiness?' she asks. The girl is wearing a black veil, her ragged white dress decidedly out of place with the surroundings.

'In purity, there is bliss.' Qui'lon the Enlightened does not answer the King of Sarkaz's question directly. His eyes are slightly closed, the cerulean flame behind him burning brightly.

'When all is empty, there is no longer sorrow...' The King of Sarkaz mutters beneath her veil, her words soft yet thunderous. 'But can there be bliss when all emotions are gone?'

A drop of dew forms upon the branch of an Ashoka tree, reflecting the two figures sitting opposite one another, the pond of lotus, and the sceneries of Katsidiya.

'Impermanent as the morning dew, fleeting as the blink of an eye.' The cerulean flame behind the Enlightened continues to burn bright. His brows are relaxed, seemingly unperturbed by the King of Sarkaz's question.

'This land, this city, are not morning dew, and the proof of people's existence is more than just the blink of an eye.' There is a ripple in the lotus pond, billions of white lotuses floating up and down with it.

'If bliss is to be fleeting, then I will mark this land by this fleeting moment I witness.'

The King of Sarkaz picks up a single white lotus, which blooms and emanates a sweet scent in her hand. The King of Sarkaz murmurs a sermon, and the billions of petals close back unto themselves, into a bud yet to blossom. She holds the bud before her chest, and a black fruit emerges from her palm, absorbing the lotus and its remaining scent.

'I must do this, Katsidiya's King of Sarkaz.'

'I see.' Even the Enlightened cannot help but sigh. His cerulean flame flickers, and the light begins to dim. 'So the myriad souls of Sarkaz have long arrived at an answer.'

The same black crown appears atop both of their heads.

'The karma this crown imposes upon me is simply to preach the path of enlightenment. I thought that nirvana could be achieved if people were no longer obsessed with their own existence. My obsession thereof has prevented the liberation of this land.

'But fate has brought you here, which means that the karma of the myriad souls is predetermined, and the realms born of their words infinite.

'And so, my obsession, too, is emptiness.'

The visage of the Enlightened relaxes again, and the cerulean flame behind him once again burns bright. The black crown floats quietly above his head.

'I have entrusted the path to someone else. If the myriad souls cannot find deliverance on their own, then the day of resolution will come nonetheless through their discourse.

'When that time comes, you will need no longer seek salvation in every story.

'But though both you and I can see our own karma vivid and clear, the cycle of cause and effect is exhausted. I can no longer deliver you.'

The Enlightened sounds almost apologetic as he bows slightly to the King of Sarkaz opposite him.

'There is no need to apologize. You've done all you could for this land. But the duty of salvation should not fall upon another's shoulders.

'Perhaps the day of resolution will come. Perhaps this path will deliver all the lands...

'But until that day comes, I will not give up on seeking salvation.

'Even if I have to walk this land a billion times, even if I must add yet more sorrow to my collection...

'I will find the ending I seek, one filled with kindness.'

The Enlightened sits upright, as he did in the Lokadhatu beyond. He closes his eyes, the cerulean flame behind him still burning bright.

'It is well.'

The eternal light illuminates Katsidiya. Only the King of Sarkaz, dressed in ragged white, remains by the lotus pond, beneath the Ashoka trees.

The heavy sound of bells once again rings from the great bell tower. This time, however, it does not reach into the distance.

Lokadhatu is empty.

'Please be careful next time. The medic team won't always have the time to reattach your arm.'

Amiya examines the replanted limb for the last time, checking the progress of its recovery.

'I'm perfectly fine, Dr. Amiya. Look—'

The sunglasses-wearing Phidia mercenary waves his arm, trying to show the doctor that he has fully recovered, but Amiya remembers his movements being much smoother and quicker before.

He never returns from battle without new scars. He says he wears sunglasses because of his sensitive eyes, but Amiya knows that he lost an eye in battle and chooses sunglasses over an eyepatch to stand out less.

His injuries get worse as the stalemate continues. This time, after hearing that he has his arm blown off, Amiya decides to try to persuade him to operate in safer areas.

'Even if you're the ace of these mercenaries, we can't guarantee we'll be able to reattach your arm every time. This time, we have a supply ship nearby, sufficient resources, and the situation on the frontline is stable. But just a few months ago, we wouldn't have had the manpower to handle a surgery like this. Do you understand?'

'I apologize, Dr. Amiya...' The hulking Phidia cowers before Amiya like a child being scolded.

'With your skills, you should have no shortage of work that is both easier and pays better. Plenty of nobles would gladly hire you as their bodyguard. Why choose to come here?'

'What about you, Dr. Amiya?'

'I just want to help more people go home alive.'

'And I just want to help my mercenary buddies go home with their pay in their pockets, not in an envelope on top of the jar holding their ashes.'

They both fall silent.

'Neither of us have a choice, do we?'

'What you want won't be easy, doc... especially in times like these.

'But never mind that. Want to hear some good news?'

'What is it?'

'They don't need us on the frontlines recently, and I don't have to be on a stretcher every time I visit.'

'Really?'