> "Oh wow, those are some truly salient points drunken one. I thank you for giving weight to nothing."

>

> Meditations of the Listener to the Drunken Chanter

Almost half a moon passed. Akazha and Jikajika focused Raxri on practicing their Light Body Technique, so that it came as quickly as breathing. They focused on the meditational awareness of the Will flow, though they could never teach Raxri how to outright harness Will in explosive ways. Raxri always found that strange. Training days interchanged between honing Whorl Hand Art techniques, Lightness Techniques, and resting. During these days, Raxri got to experiment with cooking, and managed to make a delicious beef stew served with chilis and calamansi.

A few days after that, Akazha began teaching Raxri the application of the Whorld Hand Art to blades. They trained fighting with longknives while they balancing upon bent bamboo. At this point, Raxri's bullet wound had mostly faded into a dull throb. They could move their arms and legs like normal now, without anything lancing pain weighing them down.

"One thing you must note, dear student," as Akazha and Raxri traded blade blows upon that bamboo, which pliantly and subserviently bent forward for them to fight upon. "Is that in the Adamantine Path of the Infinite Law, we believe in turning everything one does into an act of meditation, as I've already told you before. When one allows meditation to penetrates one's every moment, then one is constantly within that state of mindfulness. And with that state of mindfulness cometh control over one's body. In the Adamantine Path, this is exacerbated with the powers paranormal. What many call magick is the application of this perpetual meditation."

"How does one attain such meditation, master? This meditation... I thought the meditation I'd attained with the Whorld Hand Art was enough!"

"Through practice, constantly," taught Akazha. "Until one has attained the formless thought, until one understands, just a bit better, the Uncreated Mind which is veiled by a billion reincarnations' worth of delusion."

Akazha shook her head. "Your meditation ever must guide you, and it will ever be cultivated. That is the truth of meditation. And other techniques require greater ways of meditation. And these meditations are brought about by the strength of one's Inner Furnace."

Raxri nodded. They traded blows again, faster this time. Raxri's longknife strikes were just applications of their Whorl Hand learnings, moving in wide circles and slashing strikes, though adjusted to the weight of a longknife. They could move much faster with just their hands, almost like a blitz or a storm. But with the weight of a longknife their movements were more deliberate, blade set upon the target to slash, to cut, to lacerate in the manner of the swordsman.

Akazha on the other hand, was moving with that deliberate, leading movements of a master. Every movement she made led to another that guided Raxri's strikes, always anticipating ten steps ahead.

"Even now," said Akazha. "Focus your mind. In silence, or upon the babbling creek or waterfall, it is easy to meditate and fall into Contemplation. However, the second easiest place to fall into Contemplation is amidst battle, amidst practice, where one must focus lest one die. Even now, as you fight, you fall into meditation. This meditation eventually shall become as second nature, it shall become the default state of your mind. Then you are one step closer to Liberation."

Unfortunately, Raxri pondered upon that thought, and Akazha found an opening. With a forceful push of her live hand, she struck Raxri's chest, sending them tumbling backwards, off of the bamboo and onto the stream's bank. Raxri struck the ground with an "oof!" and stayed there for a few moments, breathing, inhaling, wondering what to do.

Akazha floated down and helped Raxri up. Raxri exhaled and said, "Thank you, master."

"A greater swordstress would not have missed a beat, there. They hear without losing their focus. They catch stray thoughts, or otherwise let it fly, like the birds that they are. They are always here, and here always."

"Why is meditation so important, master?" asked Raxri, coming to a sit. Akazha climbed atop the boulder and sat as well.

From where Raxri sat, they appreciated her shadow-slash beauty. Her hair she had bound up into a thick and tightly tied chignon atop her head, almost all of her hair pulled away from her face, revealing her bare nape (as well as the mantric centipede tattoo that snaked up her spine). Her long knife-shaped ears. Dark circles under her eyes, hair of pitch black, skin pearlescent, eyes the same color of night. As if a daughter of dark and light. Her skin seemed to reveal no pores, a smoothened veil. At that present moment they wore a light sarouel that allowed them to move, and a brocaded silk chest wrap that fully covered her chest. Her body was slender, almost too thin; her flesh soft and supple, not sinewy like Raxri.

She seemed soft, as opposed to Raxri's dawn hardness. She was night's daughter and they were dawn's childe.

Akazha spoke, then: "In my case, as someone wishing to attain wizardhood, meditation is the platform. The foundation from which almost every higher power is attained. Bodily immortality, manipulation of the Powers, the ability to heal, to fly, to float, to create something out of nothing... the deeds of wizards arise from the enlightenment that meditation brings."

"I see. But you are a witch. Do you not brew elixirs and draughts that do such things?"

"I do," said Akazha. "But that does not require meditation. That requires knowledge, and while it can be a helpful tool to Liberation, it is not a path to it."

Raxri grasped then a question they've always been meaning to ask: "Why do we need to attain Liberation? Is this required to do?"

Akazha smiled, then shrugged. "You have no need of Liberation. In truth, if you wish to keep suffering in this Whorl, then be my guest. However, you will find that staying in suffering is not noble, nor is it something one would want, once one has experienced it."

"So we wish to be liberated because we wish to cease suffering?"

"In a word, yes," replied Akazha, shifting and stretching.

Raxri looked out at the trees, at the waters, at the rocks. The glistening wet shrubs, the coconut trees, the flowers blossoming out of acacias. The jade vines that hang and swing in the breeze, the bees that zoom overhead, the multicolored birds that sing lillting tones that hearken to lullabies... "But this world is so beautiful. If one can find beauty even in suffering, then does that not make suffering worthwhile?"

Akazha let out a frustrated sound. "I can hardly believe you did not philosophize in your past life! O, great gods spare me, I am bound to a rationalist."

Raxri blinked. They said no more, thoroughly focused on waiting for an answer.

Akazha glanced at Raxri, and then managed a slight smile. "You will find in due time one of the greater realizations. For now, it will make no sense, but you must live and experience more things to understand it thoroughly. The world is beautiful because those are glimpses of Underlying Truth, of Emptiness. It is because Suffering and Liberation are not dichotomous things separate from each other--remember, nothing inherently has a nature--but rather, they are one and the same. Form is emptiness and emptiness is form, as the great Treatise Writer once said."

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Raxri blinked again and truly, they understood naught. "The master is exceedingly wise."

"Unsheathe your blade, Raxri. Your training endeth not yet." And she leapt from her rock, striking down from it with her blade at Raxri. Raxri scrambled for their own blade and began blocking.

"Teacher, another question, if it pleases you!" They crossed longknives. Akazha twisted her blade to strike, and a gash cut across Raxri's belly.

"Blades do not cross, student!" yelled Akazha. "If you fight true then do not believe in the theatrics of stage plays, where such things exist."

Wincing, Raxri looked up and focused still. In meditation, one's wounds can be summarily ignored for a time. "I do not wish to take another life. Why grant me the blade!"

"Even if you wish naught to take another's life, others are empty of that same gnosis. Therefore, fight with your blade, and incapacitate with greater skill. If you are to be on the path to enlightenment, then you must be better. You must be a King though you be a peasant. It is your mind that will allow you to strike with a blade and kill none!"

More koans of nigh paradoxity. A smarter person would have been paralyzed by logic-seeking on the spot. Not Raxri, though. Raxri was stupid. And so Raxri accepted what their master had said, and met her steel with theirs. Enlightenment will come yet.

***

After training that day, they took the time to eat food served infused with savory spices and healing herbs. It healed Raxri right up, letting them ignore most of their wounds. Though the larger gash across their chest had been covered with a poultice by Akazha, that would still take a few days to fully heal. The pain from that wound, however, was almost completely gone.

Their food was delicious, as this one was cooked mostly by Jikajika, who had volunteered as a substitute cook while Akazha and Raxri were both busy training everyday. Their current food that day was yet another stew, though this one was made of a mix of deer and wild pork that the both of them had managed to catch the day before. It was cooked deep in vinegar, salt, medicinal herb, and coconut oil, giving it a crispy, almost fried feeling. Served with water spinach drenched in soy sauce, bitter gourd, and white rice balls. It filled Raxri right back up.

Afterwards, they puffed a bit on their smoke to relax both their minds and their muscles. Raxri eased a lot of their anxieties as they did this, their mind coming to that comfortable blank state.

"Oh, yes, Raxri," said Akazha, puffing out purple haze. She gestured to Raxri, who tilted their head, questioning. "Your talismanic tattoo there... there is a small enclave a few ways up Mount Jura that might practice the same tattooing tradition, attuned to the teachings of the Infinite Law. Going there might be fruitful for you, for a time. Not only might they teach you better of what your talismanic tattoo might be, they might even grant you more."

Raxri puffed hazy smoke. "What will they teach me there?"

"The basics of the Law, for example. It is they that have the authority to induct thee upon the Adamantine Path. You must take the Adamantine Vows. Only then will you truly enter the thunderbolt that leads to enlightenment," said Akazha. "And then perhaps, if they find good within you, they will teach you a part of their Thunderbolt Staff martial art!"

Eyebrows furrowed, Raxri asked: "When do we go? I think it would be great to have a change of pace."

Akazha bit her lip and said: "I'm not entirely sure. It might be in a few moons..." Akazha shook her head, a light chuckle again arising from her. "You see, the monks upon Giant Stone Monastery do not take much kindly to me, you see." She mopped her face, not wanting to say the next words. She powered through nevertheless: "I almost made one of their monks break their vows. Though they do not hate me, it is certainly awkward to be around them."

Raxri laughed. "Witch Akazha is ever unpredictable."

Akazha rolled her eyes at Raxri. "Be careful with your mouth, dear student!"

Smiling, Raxri said: "Why not I go there on my own? Do you not think it would be a worthwhile endeavor, especially to apply all that I've learned?"

Akazha and Jikajika (who had fluttered to atop the table after taking care of the food) looked at each other. The night heron god shrugged. "The path to Jura Mountain is a straight shot from here, and relatively safe, after all," Jikajika said. "I agree with the young one."

"Well..." Akazha shrugged, letting a bit of her loose robe fall from her shoulder. "Sungai knows the place. I suppose he will be able to bring you there scatheless."

Jikajika waved their wing-hands. "Aye, but think not overmuch. You've proven yourself more than capable of handling yourself, is that not correct, Akazha?"

Akazha nodded. "You've taken care of those bandits handily enough! And now you know the Light Body, will be able to travel where you need to, even if it be scaling sheer cliff walls. However, that will not be needed. Sungai will be able to guide you."

"And the Giant Stone Monastery is only a day's worth of travel away," said Jikajika, shrugging. "I'm sure thou knoweth the importance of self-sufficiency!"

Raxri smiled, nodding. "I will do my best. And perhaps I might find a mote of remembrance from there as well."

Akazha nodded, gleaming somehow with pride. "This is another test for you, my lovely student. Let your Will be done."

***

The next day, Raxri prepared for their travel. They had a sack full of prepared food in vinegar and salt (so that it didn't go bad immediately) and healing concoctions brewed by Akazha, though they "don't have the same healing efficacy as a pill, they work all the same for small wounds and for stabilizing larger wounds."

They had given Raxri a fresh set of clothes: a sapphire-colored tunic, a scarlet sarong, hardwood sandals, a turtlewood salakot, and a heavy textile robe decorated with spirals like waves (or perhaps, dragon claws?) tied close to their waist with a gold belt that gave them the impression of a rich traveler. Then, hanging from that gold belt was a wooden scabbard and a longknife, with the carabao horn hilt carved to look like a grinning god.

"There," said Jikajika, after carrying the last of the bags of supplies. "That should be enough!" They stood in front of Akazha's cottage, upon the dirt path road that led north, deeper into the Pemiwood.

"No doubt," said Akazha, stepping out. She wore the barest minimum now, only a cloth around her waist that led down to her thighs, and a chest wrap. "Take care, my student." She walked up to Raxri and pushed up the clothing on his left arm until it revealed the talismanic tattoo. "Use this in the face of missiles, whether they be arrow or bullet. It will protect you. But it must hit this part, only." Then, she turned around and picked up a necklace from a floating porcelain platelet. Adorning it was a gray orb, impossibly smooth.

"This is a granite talisman." She reached up to give it to Raxri. "You will need it. It will protect you from bodily harm, but it has a limited capacity. Eventually, it will crack, meaning it cannot protect you any longer. However, this talisman can be charged and rebuilt, but you must return here for that."

"I thank you, Akazha."

Akazha pat Raxri's cheek. "Take great care. My studying of you has only thus begun."

"It be beneficent for the wanderer, Akazha," said Jikajika, who fluttered over to a wooden pole jutting out of the cottage's front yard, covered in wild weeds and little trees and shrubs. "You cannot teach them everything yet. You are hardly finished with your own path."

"They have a true master there, I know," said Akazha. "A teacher true. Glean all you can from there, then return here. Perhaps once you've moved further up Enlightenment's Stream, I can begin teaching you magick. Only those aware can wield magick without falling immediately into evil."

Jikajika and Akazha led Raxri and Sungai to the nearby border, where a very well-kept spirit house stood upon a hardwood pillar. There, Akazha taught Raxri to give appropriate offering to the plate that was laid on the small plane of wood jutting out from the house. Within the house were around five stone idols in the vague shapes of the gods of the Pemiwood. Five idols, said Akazha, meant that there were five rulers of the Pemiwood's spiritual societies, for the Pemiwood covered almost the entirety of Pemi itself.

Raxri offered rice grains, lotus flowers, and joss sticks stuck to a little pot. They performed the proper reverence: hands folded, palm-to-palm, they placed their hands on their forehead and bowed, then in front of their lips and bowed, and then finally in front of their heart, and bowed.

"The triple reverences is the safest," said Akazha. "Though no doubt you know, in the majority of the settlements here in the Utter Islands you bow with the Heart Reverence when greeting another person, the Mouth Reverence when greeting someone of higher social status than you, who is higher along the path of enlightenment or whatever profession you follow, or one of the many gods that live in these lands. Then the Crown Reverence is reserved for the Gods, High Gods, Awoken. But if you wish to pay genuine obeisance, perform the three bows."

Raxri nodded, mouth slightly agape at the sudden understanding.

Akazha then walked over to Sungai and kissed their nose. They whispered something, and Sungai shook their head, though seemingly in agreement. Then, slightly smiling, Akazha said: "Sungai will know the way." They looked up at Raxri, their small eyes glistening.

Raxri exhaled and nodded. Deep down, they knew too that this would be the best path forward, that this would no doubt glean greater enlightenment and remembrance for them. And so, with self-cultivation at the forefront of their mind, they mounted Sungai, waved their goodbyes to Akazha and Jikajika, and rode off.