> Revolution. The direction of enlightenment. The specter of freedom and chain-breaking. Possessed of no gods–in truth, you revolt even against the gods–you forge your own path. What is Revolution? Walk the Royal Road.

>

> Treatise On True Enlightenment by Dattreya Wairini the Twice-Awoken

Raxri followed the command. Hesitation was defeat, after all. They unsheathed Puksa--who quivered in excitement--and then struck, slashing and thrusting and making quick work of the gunggong on their side.

When Raxri impaled one gunggong, that monster's body would suddenly cramp up and contort into strange shapes. A chill ran down Raxri's spine when they realized what it reminded them of: it was much like when a spider would die, and their body would naturally fold in and of itself as the blood used to move their carapace left their body. Is it the same thing here? What charnel sorcery powers these marionettes?

Raxri's movements were perfect parries and deflections that flowed into bisections and decapitations. When a gunggong would leap too close to Sungai, Raxri would leap into the intervening space and cut down that gunggong, their blade piercing and impaling the open sections of their armors.

As they engaged in this intricate dance of violence, they would bark out nonsensical words. Raxri wondered what language they spoke--it definitely was not a language they could understand, and it did not sound like any of the languages Raxri had heard during their time in the island of Pemi. Was this some sort of creole or fabricated tongue created only for the Invincible Blade Princess' armies?

A gunggong fired a crossbow bolt at Myu Fan's earth dragon mount Kasasa. Cursing, Raxri dove in between the earth dragon and performed Heavenly Lightning Deflection. Blood burst from Raxri's hand as the crossbow bolt's trajectory was shattered, and it struck the ground uselessly instead. Raxri was resolute, however: it was imperative that Kasasa and Sungai were kept safe.

Seeing red, the remaining gunggong took this opportunity to strike. Spears and longknives and daggers in a frenzy of strikes. Raxri deflected as much as they could, but strikes and bites and slashes bit their way into Raxri's skin.

Using Adamant Lightning Strikes, Raxri wefted through them like a river cut through a mountain: sure and steady. At the end of it all, Raxri left behind halo of blood. They similarly sustained a number of wounds that no doubt would scar, and a few punctures that no doubt would take time to heal. Though it stung, they bore no worry: they had a doctor there, after all. As Raxri winced, examining their wounds, they realized how the wounds did not feel as painful as before. The sting of a wound, the heat of a slash... they felt muted, dulled, as if the concept of pain itself had diminished. Or perhaps Raxri had gotten too used to being struck and wounded?

"Raxri, are you okay?" Raxri turned to see Doctor Myu Fan dragging on her pipe. She discarded three handguns to the bushes. She sustained no wounds, though the dark circles under her eyes seemed larger and deeper now. "You're wounded."

"The consequence of swordplay," Raxri said, shrugging. "But I am not defeated, and the pain is dulled yet."

"Attacks by those of lower Cultivation Stages than you tend to feel more miniscule. That is the nature of cultivation. However, if you are not properly healed, those wounds will infect anyway and kill you." Sighing, the doctor walked over to one of her saddle bags and pulled out a few more ointments. She walked over and dabbed them upon Raxri's wounds, each one soliciting a jolt of pain from Raxri. They winced at every touch.

"There. Done. You ought to practice on your defense, Raxri Uttara."

"I must get used to being struck, I would think, doctor."

Doctor Myu Fan rolled her eyes. "Oh, there you go again. For what reason? So you can stand between the enemy and your friend? Take the strikes for them? 'It is better that I am hurt than they'?"

Raxri smiled sheepishly, avoiding Myu Fan's gaze. They wanted to show that that was exactly what Raxri was trying to say, but they knew that Doctor Myu Fan would not like that exact answer.

An exasperated breath, then she said: "If you want to do that then you should learn some defensive Skills. Perhaps learn sorceries that strengthen your body, or learn a skin-strengthening martial art such as Carabao-Body Style or Crocodile Swallows The Mountain."

Raxri made a mental note. They were definitely going to do that. "This is noted, doctor. Thank you. And thank you for being a constant mediciner. I think I would be long gone if it were not for you."

"You are correct," said Myu Fan, and she pinched Raxri's side. A surprised yelp from Raxri. "So when I am gone, you must learn how to protect yourself. Or perhaps, even, to heal yourself. But, one thing at a time. Come, we chase the sun."

They traveled a few more dragons down the mountain until the path was mostly level, and the forest had become dense around them. The cool fresh winds of the morning gave way to the sticky humidity of almost zenith, but the canopy of the jungle allowed them reprieve from the scathing heat of the sun. Sungai and Kasasa thrived here: especially Kasasa, whose blood was cold, and required the temperatures one would find in the jungle to regulate their body.

As they galloped through the narrow path, Raxri asked: "Doctor. What did you mean when you said that those gunggong were living weapons of the Invincible Blade Princess?"

Doctor Myu Fan blew out a long stream of smoke from her nostrils, like a dragon. "Though the Invincible Blade Princess was defeated a few decades ago, her actions wounded the very world. No doubt the Abbot has already told you: her conquest was the beginning of the end, and she has plunged us deep into the Latter Day of the Law. She did not do this alone: despite her great personal strength, she was also a master wizard, an immortal in all but name. Through her Blasted Alchemies and Sorceries she wove together great magickal armies that were perversions of the gods and the antigods. These were her Eternal Horde. Those things we fought, gunggong, are worse than monsters, in truth. Monsters often have a reason for living other than destruction. Demons can be redeemed, given consciousness. These warriors, however, are in truth mockeries of nature. The gunggong are the infantry of the Eternal Horde, the foot soldiers and the fodder. When the Invincible Blade Princess died, they were left in this world, and now they rove the Utter Islands following the Blade Imperative. That is to say: all sentient beings must be slain."

"They are weapons in truth," said Raxri, pondering about it. "One must wonder... why the Invincible Blade Princess did all that. Instigated so much violence and war. Plunged this beautiful world into the throes of calamitous strife."

Myu Fan only sighed and dragged on her pipe. She did not say anything else.

"Our path bisects here, Raxri Uttara," said Doctor Myu Fan as they came upon a split in the road. Part of the road cut westways from the mountain, while the path Raxri had come up on was straight northways. "We must part."

Raxri felt a pang of sadness. Just a smidge. No doubt all their time together has caused Raxri to become somewhat attached to the doctor. They performed the mouth reverence to Doctor Myu Fan. "I can do nothing but praise the Doctor and be ever thankful for all the work that she has done."

Myu Fan smiled and shook her head. "It is my duty. Following that duty, a duty that saves sentient beings... that is of utmost importance to me. I would not be doing anything else." She tossed another gourd of medicinal waters to Raxri's direction. Raxri caught it with ease. "You must take care, all right? We must meet yet still. And hopefully by then, you're not a suicidal maniac attempting to put yourself in between the blade and your love."

Raxri managed a cheeky smile, though they still winced, as their wounds protested against Raxri's sudden movements. "I-I will--ouch--I will, Doctor. Please, be safe and true. May the Awoken guide your path, may the innumerable gods keep you safe."

"May the gods keep you safe," replied Myu Fan, managing another half-lidded, nostalgic smile, before turning and continuing down her path. She disappeared shortly into the dense woods of the path, and Raxri found themselves alone once again.

Raxri sighed, and then leaned down to pat Sungai. Silently, they urged the horse forward, and they trotted down their own path. A slight path, barely trodden, barely traveled. This was dangerous territory. One cannot wander into here, one needed to travel here purposefully and with a goal.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Raxri was happy, but they were tired. They wanted to go home and sleep for a few days. Despite this, the new techniques that they had learned from the Abbot danced upon the electricity of their skin. They were itching to pick up their sword again to fight.

The sun was zenith, now. A little bit past that. Even with the thick canopy of the montane forest, streamers of the sun's blasted rays struck the jungle floor, threatening to burn Raxri with every gleam. Thankfully, they were few and far between, and even those that did hit Raxri were benign rays, only slightly burning. The winds were cold, perfectly humid, as if standing beside a river. They preferred this humid cold than the dry cold of the higher mountains. They preferred it when their lips would not cut and their skin would not break against the dryness of the world. They preferred it when sweat would glisten their skin as they traveled, keeping them slightly cooled. In the Utter Islands, water was not a scarcity, but an abundance.

Looking around, Raxri realized that the majority of resources here in the Utter Islands were in abundance and not scarcity. This truly is the world of spirits, and we are simply tenants living alongside them.

Raxri could feel the watchful eyes of those that lived inside the trees, those that took on the form of insects and gliding lizards and geckos and slithering pythons. They could feel the gaze of those that were the lines or the shadows within the hallowed boughs within trees, the little gods and the spirits of the woods.

Let me sing for a moment of the truth of the spirits. As Raxri traveled across the wood, they would see things that seem to resemble the faces of people and humans. Some doctors and sages might call this a psionic justification of our mindstream, imposing ourselves onto the world. We see faces where there are no faces to be seen.

However, some of those faces truly are the faces of the gods. Sleeping, watching, sometimes judging even. The vast majority of them are not malevolent: malevolence is a quality we impose upon them. It is not a malevolence if a hurricane would annihilate an ant: that is simply the way of the world. In the same vein, we are the ants to the hurricane that is the gods and the spirits that inhabit, and in truth, make up the totality of not just the Utter Islands, but the entirety of the Hingsajagra.

Many believe that the reason why we humans do not see the gods as much as we do is because they have materialization magics. This is not entirely wrong, but it is important to also realize that many gods innately have the capacity for transformation. It is part of their privileges as being gods and spirits. Many gods and spirits take on the shapes of winds, of fires, of trees, of leaves, of plants, of tigers, of holy lions, of crocodiles, of dragons. It is exceedingly rare for them to apparate as humanoid: to them humans are a baser realm, lower on the Six Paths of Wandering. Why would they want to return to it?

Of course, the schools of thought such as the Liberation Law, Infinite Law, Anarchism, Commonism, Liberalism, and Pureflame Dogma, believe that the human may be the middle of the road for living in Hingsajagra, but these humans are also the most susceptible to Emancipation. Or otherwise Unity with the Absolute Reality. Humans, not being swallowed by pride or power as gods are, or not subsumed by suffering and pain like the hell-beings and ghosts are, are in the prime position to cultivate enlightenment and spiritual transcension.

As Raxri rode Sungai down the path, they realized then that the gods watched without eyes--why would they need eyes? Only humans need eyes. Bats see with sound, other animals follow scents rather than sight. The gods experienced them as they experienced the world. All of this in reification of the truth: humans are simply living within this world of spirits. That is the first foundational principle of Hingsajagra. It is beautiful, in a way, of course. But it is important to realize that that beauty, as with all things in Hingsajagra, are fleeting and will fade away, and are nothing to the impenetrable beauty and radiance of eventual Extinction.

Raxri spurred Sungai into a faster gallop when the roads leveld out and became wider. Sungai, now confident, burst forward in speed. He was moving and galloping faster than a few moons ago. Raxri did notice that Sungai had gotten faster. Perhaps that monk that took care of Sungai truly did know how to nourish Sungai.

Raxri watched as Sungai's gallops cut through a stream, sending water about everywhere. Beautiful birds of bright indigo plumage and crimson beaks flew across them from left to right--a good omen, they remember. If it wer ethe other way around, that would've been a horrible, horrible omen, and anyone that would've seen that would turn back around and travel another day. In this world of spirits, it is omens that give us humans the capability of surviving. Omens tell lesser beings to be careful, that the gods and the fates and the destinies are not going to be good for that day. This is why diviners and seers and shamans are so popular. Everything is a percentage chance of happening, and these percentages can be ascertained with the proper rituals. This is where geomancy, astromancy, necromancy, and more come from. Those ways of seeing through different rituals.

Through their travel, Raxri saw the great Godtree, now to their left, canopying the sky as well, sending down rays of silverine light even in the middle of the day. Long, slender, serpentine dragons danced around their giant boughs, so large that they no doubt could contain cities in and of themselves.

Eventually, they passed a familiar boulder for a moment. Raxri uttered a small breath of prayer and appreciation and dedication to Vibujja, who they knew followed them about now in some form or another. As Sungai galloped, Raxri looked up. It was difficult to make out which cloud Vibujja was, straining against the thick canopy of the jungle. The mouth of Nunuk Vale.

It must have rained because eventually, Sungai and Raxri had to stop in front of a great river. "Whoa. Was this not just a small ford when we first passed here, Sungai?"

Sungai neighed in confirmation. It was a large and wide ford, yes, but it was a ford nonetheless. It was such a shallow ford that Raxri barely even noticed that it was a ford! But after three months during the monsoon season, the river had built up again. Crocodiles glided across it, and freshwater fish and catfish rested deep within. No bridge had been built here. No doubt because during the dry moons, it would be a ford.

Raxri crossed their arms and said: "I've forgotten that we're in the middle of monsoon season. Though the clouds be thick and strong, the rays of the sun are strong yet."

Sungai neighed again in agreement.

Raxri, nodding, dismounted from Sungai and led him to the riverside so that he could drink some water. It was Sungai that chose where he was going to drink. Just as well: no doubt Sungai could see the lurking crocodiles and pythons and dragons that waited for food.

As Sungai lapped up the river-water, Raxri washed parts of their skin again, removing the dirt accumulated from sweaty traveling. The water here was adequately clean, thanks to it being a rapidly rushing river. And since there was no rain just yet that time of day, there was no impurity mixed with the water.

When Sungai had finished, the two of them walked over to the giant roots of a nearby tree and rested upon it. Dawn approached now. Travel in the middle of the night would be no doubt dangerous. Even worse, they did not know how to cross the river!

Raxri looked out at the rushing river. It was too wide and too deep to swim across, no doubt about that. Besides, the dangerous creatures that floated within those very waters would rip them apart at the very chance. What choice did they have?

Raxri leaned on the root, contemplating what they could do. At intervals of their meditation they would look up at the clouds to see if Vibujja would offer any help, to no avail. Vibujja was not arriving. Was Vibujja only there if there was a fight? Or perhaps... Vibujja would have to attend to other matters why they were there so they wouldn't be able to meet them constantly. I should have asked about the terms of when Vibujja would come up, Raxri thought. Perhaps I'll be able to do that when I'm with Akazha. Oh, Vibujja should meat Akazha.

As Raxri swam across the sea that was their thoughts, they saw Sungai walk out and gesture with his snout to the direction of the sun's drowning. In the direction against the river's flow, otherwise upriver.

"What is it, Sungai?" Raxri walked over to Sungai but saw nothing but trees and grass, though they noticed that there was a walkable path that followed up the river. "Ah... you want us to travel upriver? Huh. You might be on to something. Perhaps there is a bridge there, upriver. Or maybe even a town."

Sungai nodded. "All right," said Raxri. "Let's do just that. Come on. We can take refuge there as well should night fall."

They traveled then upriver for a few more sun-movements. The river rushed against them. The spray of the water was cold, cooling the area around them. Raxri liked traveling nearby rivers: it was always cold and properly moist while they were around them. Though the jungle canopy was somewhat sparser here in the river, the waters cooled down the blasting rays of the sun. Though as they traveled, the sun sank lower and lower, so the sun's rays did not scathe them as they normally would.

Insects jumped to and fro: giant grasshoppers the size of Raxri's hand. Sungai had to jump over a python that they thought was a fallen log, due to the almost straight lined pattern of the python's scales. They had to maneuver around a resting crocodile, so flat against the muddy banks of the river, as it basked in the last few moments of sunglow. A few macaques swang overhead, chittering and chattering. One of them landed behind Raxri and leaned there for a bit, eating a little fruit. When he was done, he threw the seeds of the pomelo to the river, and then tried to steal Raxri's sword. Raxri swatted away his hands and commanded him to shoo. Laughing, the monkey leapt up and caught a stray vine as Sungai galloped past it. The majority of the monkeys that were playing around with Raxri and Sungai immediately disappeared into the darkness of the jungle when they heard the cry of a golden eagle flying overhead.

Through this all, the river rushed beside them. A few black and white herons flew beside them, though in the direction of the river's flow, no doubt heading towards the swamps and fens where they would be able to find sleep and food.

Raxri also couldn't help but notice that so much of the green here was interspersed with multicolor. Giant purple flowers, magenta vines, orchid the color of bioluminsecnt aquamarine. Trees with iridescent bark, giant shrubs with scarlet flowers. Trees with beautiful golden flowers, though these flowers were falling in bunches to the ground, like golden rain. No doubt they flowered during the sun's season and then began falling and wilting during the monsoon season.

This cacophony of nature was beautiful, basking and living alongside the primordial. And Raxri knew many of these were the very gods and spirits that watched and lived here. That one fallen golden petal could've been a god, the giant eagle whose wings created a canopy of its own was no doubt a god, even the monkeys that played with them might have been spirits and gods! It was impossible to know who was a god and who was not a god, but perhaps that dichotomy is a dichotomy we ourselves have imposed, owing to our broken and incomplete understanding of the world.

When the Sun had fully drowned beneath the waves of the horizon, and the fireflies became the only guiding light for Raxri and Sungai, they saw a distant stone lantern, tall, emanating with a bright light, shielded from the cold winds of gloam.

A second wind of relief ran through Raxri. They were getting tired and had begun to think of ways to light up bonfires without burning the surrounding trees and shrubbery. "Sungai, look. Light!"