Shamans sing of the monkey:

Hung Gisingsalangkag, that great sage equal to heaven.

They say it is the mind. What can be heaven's equal

but the mind? Thou realizeth the fact

heaven's greatest enemy be not hell,

but you.

Let pride abound, let ego follow,

but wield them as sword and shield.

They shalt not be the entirety of the knight.

Medicine ariseth from poison.

Remember, remember,

when thy body succumbs,

when thy heart falters,

as long as thy mind resists,

victorious are ye. Triumphant are

ye. Not even heaven can bear its

entire weight upon thee. Thine only equal

will be the Awoken Unsurpassed.

And in gnosis find ye,

no

greater adversary

but the mind,

deluded.

Greetings, reader. I am Scholar Asumangga, writer and hearer of multiple songs and stories. I have taken it upon myself as my lifelong duty to transcribe all that I can upon copperplate and palm leaf the many tales that surround the Lotus Throne of the Utter Islands.

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Seat of the great Universal Lord.

A great many of these tales are already cemented in eternity through its perpetuation through tradition. However, for those that are not part of the many cultures and communities of the Utter Islands, it will be difficult for them to parse the many stories of this tale. The many myths and cycles that penetrate the very core of the Utter Islands. The songs from which tradition and history--both future and past--are unveiled and then suddenly blossom from the hearts of everyone that knows them.

In a sense, having this transcribed in a language as universal as Bazaar Kyarpan is a way of reaching out a hand. Of inviting you to revel in our feast, for good or ill, through light and dark. Find out what we are, who we are. And when we are gone, remember us still.

Beginning from here is one such tale. A tale of vengeant enlightenment. A tale of Killing God Yourself, realized through multiple spans of lifetimes, through multiple spans of generations, through multiple characters interwoven, intermingling, as with Shagara's Web. Everything connected, everything interpenetrating.

As the wise sage once said: Form is Emptiness, Emptiness is form.

This particular Tale contains stories ripe with the teachings of the Awoken. The codes of the Liberation Law--and even the esoteries of the Infinite Law--are easily found penetrating every moment verse sung. From the time a sword is drawn to the time a heart is stabbed... all is suffused with the karmic significance of the Law.

In Old Selorongian, the title of this chant is commonly known as "Daraan Dakparasenjang Agala". In Bazaar Kyarpan, our trading tongue, this means "Record of the Great Wandering Swordmaster." For the purposes of poetry, however, I and the 108 monks here have translated it as The Knight Vagrant, and the Hallowed Chanter has approved of such a translation.

The tale of the Knight Vagrant waxes in and out of obscurity amongst the many communes of the Utter Islands. Almost every child knows of the story of the Final Wars, and knows of the great Mystic known only under the epithet of The Twice-Awoken, who ended the war with the Peacebringer. However, none know the deeper story behind it all.

I vibrate with such excitement that the aberrations manifest itself upon my circular strokes. For the longest time, the Tale of the Knight Vagrant has been incomplete. Only now, through the help of the Great Chanter of the Sumadakmala (the people who live by the Nail of Dakmala), who remembers and sings wholly the saga, am I able to write it down upon readable, yet still perishable, writing. The monks of this monastery have already begun to copy what I've already written down, as the Great Chanter sings for me.

Ah, and one must not worry. New chanters arise yet from Sumadakmala, who continue the tradition of singing the longest cycles sung in the Utter Islands.

In any case: this is the complete story of the Knight Vagrant. This spans multiple manuscripts, and will be embellished with art created by premier cloth painters. This work is sponsored by multiple kings around the Utter Islands, who understand the dharmic significance of writing such work and committing it to merit.

It will take much time to write this all down, as a large majority of it is information and episodes that do not reveal or show heroic situations.

The Great Chanter has told us that this is so because they often chant this during harvesting, planting, or after work. Many people simply love listening to the misadventures of the Knight Vagrant.

What follows, then, is this tale, unblemished, with all of its meandering. In so doing, we cultivate merit.

Let thy will be done.

Until all beings are free.