> Existence is eventual suffering, and removal from this world is the only way to avoid it. However, death only begets rebirth. And rebirth only begets life. This cycle is known as Wandering. To escape Wandering is to live through billions of lives until one finally understands the truth of nature and is Awoken. When one dies, one is reborn according to the karmic consequences of their actions of the current life. To have less karma is to be reborn in better realms, such as the God or Magick Beings Realm. To be free of reincarnation is to achieve the revalatory gnosis that one has always been Awoken. The Nature of the Awoken is also the Uncreated Scarlet God, permeating, the ultimate essence of reality is its destruction.

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> Lotus Scripture

Raxri Uttara and Abbot Wairojashra descended down the mountain's deadly slopes once again to return to the bamboo grove. When they returned, Raxri felt the grove to be larger than before. By the corner of the grove there was a small stilt house, with a roof of cogon grass and walls of thick hardwood, but with pillars made only of bamboo poles.

In the bamboo grove, Abbot Wairojashra walked over to the shrine and performed another obeisance, bowing three times. Raxri did the same.

Have you eaten?" the Abbot asked, afterwards.

Raxri blinked, and said, "N-No, Abbot. I have not broken my fast yet."

"Good. Let us start with a voided stomach, so that the mind may work its wonders yet."

"Pardon the servant, teacher," said Raxri. "Is it all right if I ask you why you've chosen to train me all of the sudden?" Despite their seeming hesitance, when the teacher summoned a sword out of thin air and tossed it to Raxri, they all too eagerly caught it and moved it around.

The Abbot smiled and said, "I owe you as much," said the Abbot. "If you are to fulfill your Savior Vows, you must be able to meet force with force. That is the teaching of the Termagant Buddha."

"I see." They turned and looked at the house. "Did the Abbot have this prepared for me as well?"

The Abbot nodded. They pulled out their own sword. Both their swords were mostly nondescript, but both were real blades, with edges razor sharp. "I will teach you all that you can muster during the single moon of time that we have. Afterwards, you may return to your mystic master."

"Well, Akazha never told me anything about being too quick. I would imagine I have enough time yet," said Raxri.

The Abbot raised an eyebrow. "Very well then. If you leave the time up to me, then I will train you for three moons. Will that be satisfactory?"

Raxri nodded. "I will learn all I can, master."

"Good. I am now your Thunderbolt Master. In this ritual of training, I transmit to you the teachings of the Adamantine Sword. Ready your blade, Raxri Uttara. We've no time to waste."

The day flashed by then. From sunrise to sunset, they trained. However, their training was not grueling: nay, this one was filled with intermissions and breaks, so that none of Raxri's old wounds would swell and open up.

"I was told it was imperative not to break you as of yet," said the Abbot, laughing, as they chewed on betel nut together, reveling in camaraderie.

"Who told you this? Myu Fan?"

The Abbot nodded, smiling again.

Their training was holistic. Just like with Akazha, they trained in the various forms and the various defenses of the blade. The Adamantine Sword, as already stated, emphasized quick thwipping motions with the wrist, and strange backhand slaps into forehand chops that looked almost impossible to guard. The footwork was also something that threw Raxri for a loop. The movement was strange, almost like liquid lightning. A half step turned into a cross-legged step, turned into a far step. The movements were all deliberate, deliberate, deliberate.

But when the Abbot quickened the pace, and showed the true applications of the movements, Raxri realized that the deliberacy was imperative to truly perform the actions and not to cut them in half. Only the true actions had the full breadth of the speed and strength of the Adamantine Sword. When the Abbot cut, they cut so fast that lines of light followed the arc of their blade, before shimmering into wind.

When the sun finally set, the Abbot went into the temporary housing they'd prepared for Raxri and lit it with lotus lights. "You will be staying here." The floors were bamboo slats, and there were no comfortable mattresses fo Raxri to lie upon. Instead there was a simple woven textile mat on the ground, compounded with a buri mat placed atop it. There was a mosquito net, thankfully. "Should you sleep, you should not sleep in utmost darkness. You must sleep with your awareness intact, so that should any vagrant strike at you while you slumber, you will be able to parry their very strikes."

Raxri understood the reasoning behind it, and they were inclined to agree.

"I will return to the monastery, and will wake you upon the morning."

Raxri said their thanks, and the Abbot left.

In the middle of the stilt cottage was a quaint table. Pills and bottles lay atop it. A note from doctor Myu Fan told Raxri: drink both the pills and the bottles after eating but before going to bed.

Beside it, a porcelain plate of cooked deermeat, large cabbage leaves, and white rice. It had cooled down, now, but it was still delicious.

Sighing, Raxri followed the instructions on the table, ate, and then downed both the pills and the medicine bottle before going to bed.

Despite the less than comfortable beddings they had been given, Raxri fell into slumber the very second their head hit the pillow. Their fatigue gave them no recourse.

***

The next day, Raxri awoke to the ritualistic serene sounds of a tinkling bell. They pushed themself off of their bed and rubbed at their eyes.

Another day, another grueling training session.

Thankfully, any fatigue they had from the day before was nothing but a memory.

Raxri performed their stretchings before they walked out of their cottage. There, upon a table placed on the elevated front porch, the Abbot sat, back straight like a blade. The look on his face was serene. Upon the table there was white rice, hard boiled eggs, and then a porcelain cup.

"Come. Sit."

Raxri did so. "We leap not into training...?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The abbot shook their head, smiling all the while. "No need. The morning is early. See, the sun has barely broken the waters of the horizon. And so shall we. Rest is the most important aspect of training. If we rush, the only thing chasing you will be death."

"Death?" Raxri began eating the food with a spoon. A generous amount of pepper had been cooked into it, giving it a lively, spicy taste.

"Yes. Training too hard in the Adamantine Sword can very well bisect your very soul. And so we rest. My goal is to teach you three harvests' worth of the Adamantine Sword into three moons. Doing this will be certain suicide without proper rest."

"Three harvests worth?" Three years. A long time. "Abbot, there is no need to condense it so tightly. I am sure I can stay for longer than three moons."

"If we manage to get through one or two harvests worth of training in three moons, then I will be happy and satisfied. I will not be able to teach you further than three moons. I must away to a particular council after the three moons. Somewhere in the great island of Ra-om."

Raxri only nodded, in understanding now. A certain time limit would no doubt light a fire under anyone. Though, Raxri still wondered why they had to learn so much still. They figured to trust in the process and keep faith: no use in squabbling over every little detail.

As Raxri ate, the Abbot reached for the ewer and tipped the spout over into Raxri's cup. A flow of dark brown liquid.

"What's this?" asked Raxri, mouth still full of eggs and rice.

"Coffee," said the Abbot. "This will no doubt help you in your awakening, both immediate and later."

"Immediate?"

"Coffee is like tea. It is a stimulant. The gods of the coffee bean are a rowdy bunch, you know. Coffee will help you awaken immediately, and will no doubt help in your training. However, you can only drink this everyonce in a while, lest you develop an attachment and addiction to it. Addiction to coffee will break one of the many precepts of the Adamantine Path. In fact, addiction to anything causes that."

"Okay. Should I drink it?"

The Abbot nodded.

Raxri swallowed their rice and then sipped some of the coffee. It was bitter at first, but it soon became somewhat sweet and even a bit smoky in its flavor. A few more sips, and Raxri felt something rising, like their Will was stimulated and boiling. "I feel like running."

"No doubt," said the Abbot. "What else do you feel?"

"Relaxed, somewhat."

The Abbot raised an eyebrow. "That only happens to those with quick-souls. The ones that cannot truly focus. Interesting."

They wrote something down on palm leaf manuscript.

Raxri sipped again and said, "All of you are writing stuff about me."

"It is all in an effort to help understand what exactly has happened to you. And of course, to help you find out who you exactly are."

Who I am? Raxri never thought about it in that way before. All they know is that they are, at that moment. They were Raxri Uttara.

The Abbot put down their pen and rose to their feet. "Once you have finished, let us begin."

That day's training unspooled quickly. Raxri wasn't sure if it was the coffee that spiked their performance, or if it was because they were getting better healthwise, but they picked up the lessons quicker and were getting to focus their meditation and concentration down better. They could practice their mindfulness with better clarity, and their battle meditation seemed to sharpen.

They got so far as to performing techniques that the Abbot wasn't counting on having to be taught!

The sun was far down her arc when the Abbot said: "I will be teaching you the Adamant Lightning Strikes Techniques, starting with the first."

"The Adamant Lightning Strikes?"

The Abbot nodded. "Witness." They turned around and kicked a piece of bamboo into the air. Before it could complete its descent, the Abbot sidestepped to the right while unleashing five strikes in between heartbeats. The bamboo fragmented into seven pieces before falling to the ground. "Adamant Lightning Strikes."

"Whoa."

"This will be difficult, at first," said the Abbot. "Usually we begin by teaching this through the usage of bamboo sticks or rattan sticks. The movement is easier to teach that way, due to the quickness this technique demands. However, since you've shown certain aptitude to fighting with the sword, and since we've already begun your training with the sword, we might as well continue all the way. Now, follow after me."

A few more sun-movements followed of Raxri getting the movements, the applications, the body dynamics of the first Adamant Lightning Strikes technique. Raxri decided that learning that technique was definitely pushing their capabilities. At the end of the day, they still weren't able to pull it off cleanly. Their wrists felt like they were shattered, and blisters opened on their fingers and other parts of their hands and palms.

The Abbot was not kidding when they were moving into the Advanced Techniques.

"Good. That will be all for today," said the Abbot, when the sun completely descended below the horizon, though her rays and light still showered halogen pastel hues upon the sky.

Raxri fell onto their butt, and then onto their back. Their chest heaved, as they gasped for air. Their sword fell to the side.

"Fatigued, I see?"

"The advanced techniques truly are advanced!"

"You've made tremendous progress all the same. Your muscle memory fails you not. Let us hope it carries you far, Raxri Uttara. You were said to be a great swordhand before you were shorn of your memory. We will endeavor that you will re-attain that title and exceed it."

Still gasping for air, Raxri Uttara said: "Understood, teacher."

The Abbot smiled. He offered his hand. "Rise. Your food is here."

Pilinitala and Myu Fan were there in the bamboo grove, bringing with them a clay pots of rice and beef stew. Smelling the food, Raxri immediately rose to their feet. "Ah! Finally!"

"Hi Raxri! You must be hungry, huh?"

Raxri nodded as they followed the food, which they placed inside the cottage. "Here, eat," said Myu Fan. Raxri didn't need to be told at that point. They were gorging upon the food before they were even given a spoon. "Hungry. How is his training, master Abbot?"

The Abbot was there inthe cottage room with them. "It continues at a blistering pace. This is a good sign."

"I take it you are not pushing them too hard, Abbot," said Myu Fan, taking a drag of their pipe. "Keep in mind that they are still a recovering patient of mine."

"I understand this full well, Myu Fan," said the Abbot, smiling. "Worry not. I have been lenient with them. They are training and resting all at the same time."

"Good." Myu Fan placed another bottle onto the table. "Raxri, once you're done. Be sure to eat these. Understood?"

Raxri nodded, mouth full of rice. "Thank you for the food."

"You're welcome," said Pilinitala, grinning.

"It was our great student Pilinitala that cooked that," said Abbot Wairojashra. "They are a great cook, and is one of their means of helping the monastery and thus produce great merit."

Raxri nodded, but said nothing. They still ate. The beef stew was a perfect end to the day. Hot, with fat rendered tender and soft... The meat seemed to fall off the bone. It was perfectly cooked: even the cabbages only added to the flavor!

Pilinitala pat Raxri's head, no doubt enjoying the fact that Raxri was enjoying the food. "Yes, you enjoy. The doctor put in some medicinal herbs in there as well so you should be healing up in no time."

"Doctor," said the Abbot. "Do you not think that overwhelming Raxri's body with curatives might spell certain doom?"

The doctor shook their head. "When looking at their condition, and the training they have to face, I'm not placing enough curatives, it seems." She sighed. "But this is important. This Raxri Uttara needs to be able to protect themselves. They need that power. I know what kind of person this one is."

Raxri blinked. "Am I this predictable, doctor Myu Fan?"

Myu Fan only smiled. "I'll be heading off now. I must leave in the morrow for my village once again, so I will be leaving you with half a moon's worth of medicine. I'll return as soon as I can."

The Abbot bowed to Myu Fan. "The monastery thanks you for all your efforts, doctor. You have generated much positive karma and merit for yourself. May wisdom and compassion guide your every step."

Myu Fan bowed as well. "I am truly sorry for what has happened to you. Here's to hoping it will cease soon, and you will be able to practice in peace. Thank you, Abbot."

Pilinitala said, "You better finish your food, okay Raxri?" Raxri nodded, and then Pilinitala headed off with the doctor, back to the monastery grounds.

The Abbot, smiling, said, "Pilinitala was not always a great cook, did you know? She knew nothing about cooking until after she arrived here. Thankfully, she had no choice but to be a great cook."

"Why is Pilinitala here in the monastery?"

The Abbot shrugged. "That is a story for Pilinitala to tell. However, the long and short of it is that Pilinitala was once the princess daughter of a noble of the island city known as Kannan. Her house was ravaged after an attack from a despot of Wo. They never truly recovered, and so she traveled here. She has no family, and so she found one in us instead."

"How sad."

"Indeed. But that is the usual origin of a renunciate. Someone who has turned to austerities in the face of the evils of the world." The Abbot sighed. "Make no mistake, Raxri Uttara. Though the world be dead and forsaken, beauty exists within it yet. Ugliness arises from beauty, you see. In the same way death arises from life. In the same way that Phenomenal Reality arises from Awoken Nature. I bid my leave. Rest well, Raxri Uttara." And the Abbot was gone.

Raxri finished their food and drank their medicine. They pondered upon the final words of the Abbot before leaving. Death from Life. Ugliness from Beauty. They could tell, deep within their Enlightenment-Mind, that this was true. The nuggets of truth always came from the paradoxical, impossible to understand statements, they found. But their mind-cultivation was not yet at the level that they could quickly ascertain the true meaning of such words. Only to realize that they were inexplicably true.

After meditating upon those words, relaxing their breath and waiting for their mind to calm, Raxri Uttara retreated into slumber once again.