> "Demonkind is not to be meddled with. In truth, the name "demon" is a moniker we place upon all those destructive. As with all teachings of the Law, there is no inherent quality that demons possess: these are all titles we ascribe to phenomena. Many demons are fabricated out of sorcery, woven by Will. Other demons are karmic manifestations of people or places, which melt away once dealt with."

>

> Devil Womb Sutra, written by Airotsana the Primeval Awoken

The path up Mount Jura became steeper and narrower. However the path was safe yet, much safer than the other paths Raxri had traveled before. It was a smooth path for the most part and a straight shot up as they scaled up the mountain and then around it through a stone path carved in such a way to circumambulate around its spires.

Vibujja, who had become tired from floating all the while, perched atop Sungai's haunches. Raxri did not feel her weight at all. As they turned a corner and Sungai had to walk up more steep inclines, Vibujja asked: "So what did happen to our intrepid wanderer? Thy armors are all a-mess!"

Raxri scratched the back of their head and said, "When seeking out the dragon fruit, your servant was assailed by a fierce tiger god, who turned out to be Sun Seizing Prowler, one of Pemiwoods' Gods. When I faced them in battle, they were seemingly amused by the fact that I would even try to make battle with them. Oh, and the god knew my name. They said that I had fought with them before, in times now past."

"Oh," Vibujja tilted her head suddenly in both surprise and interest. "Interesting. Then I suppose thou must have been a person of some import in the past..."

"Perhaps so," said Raxri. "Though for what reason I cannot fathom." They shivered a bit: during the darkening of the night, the world seemed suffused in ice in these altitudes.

Vibujja must have noticed, because she said: "Oh thou art so pitiable." Vibujja conjured up some extra cloth--though these were as translucent as the ones she wore--and gave it to Raxri. Our cloud-headed warrior took it with full appreciation and wrapped it about them so they could have some shielding against the cold. Despite its translucent appearance, it provided Raxri with surprising warmth, and Raxri performed the crown reverence to Vibujja in thanks.

"Oh don't worry about it. Worry now about regaining thy memories. The mystery of it all... it exciteth me so!"

"I will try to do just that, great one," said Raxri, sniffling. "Once your servant remembers who they are, I will return to thee posthaste."

"O, no need for that, cloud-headed one," replied Vibujja. "I will follow thee where thy goeth, for good or ill, watching you as an invisible cloud, for the sole purpose of blessing thee with my music, and chronicling thy tale. I can just imagine it now. Thou art the subject of my greatest sagas, my greatest songs!"

Raxri blinked at that. Though at first they felt embarassed, Raxri couldn't deny that having at least two people so willing to exalt them boosted their mood by a bit. No doubt Raxri thought that since they had lost their memory, they probably had lost all traces of their past glory as well. And since none are actively looking for them, Raxri found it safe to assume that there was no way people remember them now, other than those they had directly interacted with in the past.

Raxri took such faith and said: "Your servant will not let you down, great bidaree!" And they grinned.

Vibujja's look softened, just for a moment, and then she took once again to the skies to float alongside the marching horse.

Eventually, Sungai stopped. Raxri, who had slowly dozed off, shook awake. "Sungai? Are you okay?" They reached down and stroked Sungai's muzzle. Vibujja appeared behind them, standing weightlessly upon Sungai's haunches. Her face was severe, ruminating, vigilant.

Before them was a small circular clearing in the mountainside path. Iridescent magenta vines clogged a shrine, which stood right beside the cliffside. These vine-fires emitted no heat; it resembled undulating oil pantomiming the flame-motion. Its unnaturality set Raxri's stomach to churn.

Bipedal, humanoid creatures, wearing sarongs and tunics and all, with wide-brimmed hats and extra cloth shawls as protection against the heat or rain, lazed about the clearing. One would've mistake them as innocent farmers if it weren't for them having mangy dog-heads. Ears triangular, sharp, snout long and lined with wicked sharp fangs. Their eyes bulged and flitted looked about erratically, looking for something they can never find.

When they saw Raxri approach, they reached out for farming tools: knives, longknives, sickles, rakes, and spears.

"Dog Demons," snarled Vibujja.

"Demons?" This was the first time Raxri would ever meet these demons. The word stirred up feelings of unnaturality, of destruction, of annihilation, of colors iridescent and chromatic and magenta. Nausea-inducing odors and imagery.

"These Dog Demons the God of Wanton Annihilation Hri Kresshanna did fabricate with wrathful sorceries. In the elder times, when dragons yet married humans. Now these hordes obstruct humanity from bliss and enlightenment."

Raxri unmounted. Their wounds faded into forgetfulness as they unsheathed their longknife. "They are not sentient beings?"

Vibujja smiled. "If thou doth worry about the karmic consequences of killing them, it will be nothing but meritorious!"

That does not answer my question, Raxri thought.

When Vibujja said that, as if the demons were listening, they howled and pounced, weapons at the ready.

"Great one, stay back!" Raxri barked.

"I will be taking to the skies! Battle befits me not! Music is the mantle I take, while yours must be violence!" Vibujja took out their bamboo zither and plucked out a rapid tune of vivacity and clashing. To that rhapsody, Raxri rushed forward to meet the demon dogs.

The dog demons were fierce. Though they were demonkind to be true, they did not seem to falter in the department of falsifying human intellect. They moved like any martial artist would--though of course their martial art was the crude pragmatism of the bandit.

With rusting weapons they struck, and with a blade bathed in the ichor of a forest god, Raxri struck back. In a flash of steel, three deflections as Raxri moved towards the one wielding a sling. "Always go for the ones that wield the ranged weapons first," ...Akazha's teachings rung clear in Raxri's mind.

Three quick cuts of the blade and Raxri tore through them, steel on water. The one they slew wore no armo nor tunic, simply a gold belt around their waist and a plain brown sarong.

Upon destruction, the dog demon screamed. A yelp that, if Raxri would have had any doubt that they were sentient beings yet, would have sent lances of guilt through Raxri's heart. But here their resolve was steel. Here their composure had the contemplative demeanor of a monk in meditation.

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The demon dissolved into fireflies of iridescence, gray, blacks and reds. These fireflies in truth were nothing but motes of left over transversive sorcery, born from the magicks and paranormal powers of that demon god. Of Hri Kresshana's malice upon this world already filled with suffering. The fireflies eventually petered out and dissolved back into the void.

There were three more about them. A few managed to get some hits in, but their rusted weapons did nothing but vaguely scrape and lightly tear at Raxri's exposed clothes.

With assured quickness, Raxri performed two more quick striking maneuvers with their longknife, applying circular movements of the Whorl Hand to their blade-strikes.

Their longknife ripped and tore. Two more dog demons howled into the night, dissolving as well. No traces of blood save for the blackened liquid that ran viscuous down Raxri's blade.

They flicked it down onto the stone. The stone sizzled, and the viscuous, baleful substance dissolved into nothingness again.

Two more closed in on Raxri. Taking initiative, Raxri rushed forward to strike at the right one, cutting twice, before twisting their body and using that momentum to send the other one flying off the cliffside and into the forest below. None could survive a fall that great. Then, Raxri struck down with a savage bladed elbow, before finishing the dog demon beside the one they'd sent flying with three crescent slashes.

Three more came down from up the stairs, yelling and screaming and yapping.

"A cloud-haired one is striking us down!"

"There will be none of us left to seize the monastery!"

"We must tell the great chief quickly!"

Raxri dashed forward and engaged. Our cloud-headed swordhand quickly dispatched two of the demons: parry-parry-cut-cut-decapitate.

The last dog demon Raxri caught with an arm around the neck and slammed them into the stone wall. The dog demon's eyes were wild, afeared.

"Who is your chief?"

The dog's tongue was so loose, Raxri had to be careful not to accidentally cut it off: "Silver Wind Witchdog! He's the chief of all the dog demons now invading Mount Jura!"

"What's this talk of seizing the monastery?"

"A-ack! We-we wanted to eat the dharma pills inside the monastery so we could attain immortality and overthrow heaven!"

Raxri frowned. "Such excessive want... surely this is a mark of demonkind. Where is your chief?"

"Higher up the mountain, in the Broken Bamboo Grove!"

Then, suddenly, Raxri said: "Thank you. It was smart of your God to give you human emotions... though I suppose it is the humans that have demon-like passions," Raxri shrugged, let go of the demon, and chanted, "AHOM.", as their blessed longknife bisected the demon with a single diagonal stroke.

The chanting music of Vibujja intensified. The bidaree herself was nowhere to be found, though nearby a light cloud of mist seemed to stick close nearby. The music was upbeat, quick, multiple plucks of the zither to create a sound that reverberated like blades clashing upon blades. "This song..." said Vibujja, directly into Raxri's mind (Raxri jumped and squirmed and clawed at their temples before they realized this, for Raxri was not exactly a non-idiot), "...I now call: Blinding Steel Flash!"

Raxri heard the squeals of troubled dog demons ahead. As they climbed the stairs, Raxri worried about the little chips and spiderweb cracks their longknife now sustained. Either they had to be more careful, or this longknife was made less durable than others. Or perhaps the things they were slashing with the longknife were not exactly good for a longknife's blade.

It didn't matter either way.

An arrow flew overhead and Raxri ducked. They dashed up the stairs, two more arrows soared toward them. One grazed Raxri's shoulder, sending a lance of pain through that locality. The second arrow Raxri managed to quickly perform Whorl Guard, catching the arrow and then sending it back at the bow wielder. The dog demon archer yelped and dissolved in mid air as they fell.

The top of the second flight of stairs led to a path that wound into the mountain itself, opening up to a light forest glade mostly choked by bamboo and katmon. The path here was surprisingly wide, as if the gods of this mountain specifically made it more accommodating for the monks that stayed here. Lotuslights illuminated the clearing brightly, providing ample light in the middle of the night.

"Stay back!" yelled a figure in the middle of the clearing, by a nearby well. Surrounded by dog-demons was a monk, head shorn of hair, clad in scarlet robes and with ruddy skin blessed by the Sun's Blasted Rays. Underneath his scarlet robes was a familiar cap shirt, though this one was saffron colored. He had wooden sandals bound to their feet with strings of reed. In his hands he wielded a pewter staff, the monkstaff made of multiple iron rings, which clinged and clanged as he moved it around to keep the dog demons from advancing.

One of the dog demons took their chance, rake swung in an overhead strike. Expertly, the monk ducked underneath it, bringing his pewter staff with him as he twirled, and performed a leg sweep take down followed by a pewter staff finisher, sending the demon crashing to the ground. The cacophony of the metal rings upon the monk's pewter staff produced a calming, almost purifying sound that immediately cleansed the spot where the dog demon fell. The dog demon still dissolved into its sorcerous motes, which shed its aggreggates and dissolved back into nothingness.

The monk spoke as he fended off the demons: "It is not safe to be traveling at night. If you value your life, wanderer, turn back and head down. I will retrieve you when it is safe!"

Raxri shook their head and rushed into the fray. "Grit your teeth and set your heart ablaze!" They dove into the group of dog demons, an unfurling lotus of iron and quickness.

Before long those dog demons dissolved as well under Raxri's whorling assault.

One dog demon managed to find a hole in Raxri's tempestuous guard. The demon reached out, half in prayer, straight sword thrusting through. Raxri turned just in time; their talismanic tattoo shattered the sword as its steel met Raxri's tattooed skin. No time for surprise: our brave hero's vengeful blade stroke bisected the dog demon vertically.

Through it all, Vibujja unleashed a high octane bamboo zither tune, which was somehow joined by the sound of a piercing flute to bring the chorus to a peaking high.

A demon, who fought with nothing but its claws, pounced upon Raxri as they caught their breath. The monk intervened, pewter staff ringing extrication. He struck quickly: bash-bash-slam straight into the ground, dissolving them into the eaeth.

Raxri used that moment to take down the last dog demon, who was aiming its arrows at the monk. Raxri exhaled and thought of harnessing their Will into their longknife. They tossed it across the air. It flew straight, like a dragonfly, and tore through the demon before it shattered against the bamboo behind that same demon.

Breathing heavily, Raxri said: "Relay to me: from where might a monk learn such violence?"

"Our order is one of esoteries for a reason," replied the monk. His brows furrowed and he looked up. "Where is that music coming from?"

"Oh it's coming from the great chanter Vibujja," replied Raxri as they straightened their back.

"Speak you about the bidaree Vibujja?"

Raxri nodded.

The monk stared blankly at them for a moment, and then shook their head.

"In any case, be on your guard. Those dog demons are legion yet. Come, the monastery doors are open. You will be safe there until sunrise."

The high octane battle music had faded away into a low peaceful flute tone. One that eventually disappeared into the winds of the high mountain.

Raxri followed the monk, leading Sungai by his reins. Look at him now: the monk seemed covered, head to toe, in the same talismanic tattoos that Raxri had. One could not see the full extent of the tattoos due to their robes, but portions poked out in continuum from his arms, shoulders, neck, legs, feet, and hands. An armor wrought out of ink and mantra.

"I am the monk Yiwaritala," the monk, Yiwaritala, said. "It means 'Little Disciple of Tala Awoken.' Her teachings and reverrence are paramount here, in Giant Stone Monastery."

"I see. Ah, I am Raxri Uttara. I was sent by the witch Akazha--"

Yiwaritala almost fell over. Raxri blinked, and then stared blankly as the monk, in truth, did fall over, despite the path was exceedingly smooth. No doubt the path was kept pristine by these very monks as well. No stone gave arise to the conditions that would have caused Yiwaritala Monk to fall.

When the monk finally rose to his feet, padding at his robes, he said: "I lost my step, somehow. Forgive me."

"You have done no harm to me," said Raxri. "Are you okay?"

Yiwaritala nodded. "I see you know Akazha."

"It seems you do as well." Raxri's eyebrows furrowed now.

"Yes. Well. Let us get into the monastery before any more demonkind find us. The Sun drowns into the far sea, and the moon shall soon smile upon indigo sky." The monk quickened their pace, to the point that Raxri had to jog to keep up.

The Monastery's circular gates eventually revealed itself: up ahead, flanked by two spires that seemed to form an archless arch--like the ones from the Temple of Dak Emmara Senje--were a set of giant doors set in a circular frame. That frame was made of stone, and had twelve equidistant spokes, each one showcasing a different symbol. Too esoteric for Raxri to know for now. The doors were of heavy oakwood and had been painted red. As they neared, Raxri could immediately smell the overpowering incense.

Yiwaritala quickly walked up the small set of stairs to the door. They knocked once, and then they pushed the heavy doors open, having to use their entire body weight to even get the oakwood to budge, though it did eventually give way.

As the door swung open, a serenity washed over Raxri. The sounds of chanting emanated from within. Even Vibujja's music ended, replaced now by the soft rhythmic mantras of the meditating monks.

Raxri walked in after Yiwaritala.