> The world above is the world of pride and wrath.

>

> The world below is the world of avarice and suffering.

>

> This world we have now is the world of both desire and enlightenment.

>

> To live in a world of suffering is detrimental to enlightenment.

>

> To live in a world of pure power, too, is detrimental to enlightenment.

>

> To become Awoken, one must bear both Heaven and Hell within you.

>

> Only when you understand that your heart already holds Liberation and Suffering--

>

> can one realize Revolution.

>

> The Revolution Law Manifesto by Eternal Flame Awoken Keragasan Mawangsa

Raxri blinked at that. What did she mean? Admittedly that was a pretty strange way to welcome home someone that you'd sent off into a monastery. "Think you that I would abandon you?"

Akazha smirked. "I'm glad that you missed me just enough that you never questioned that you would return to me."

Raxri walked up to Akazha, bringing Sungai with them. Sungai nuzzled Akazha, and then promptly began walking into his old shed. His own home sweet home. Akazha watched him with happiness in her face.

Then, Raxri asked: "Who was that? The one clad in armor, looking like a true heavenly general?"

Akazha turned to Raxri and stepped in. Raxri almost performed a defensive maneuver, a counter, anything.

But all Akazha did was hug them.

Raxri froze for a moment. Unsure of what to do next. Was a master supposed to do something like that? Was this normal for a great teacher to do? Shrugging, Raxri returned the embrace, and they stayed there for a moment, warming each other. A brief respite after everything they had gone through.

Then, Akazha pushed Raxri off and pat them on the head. They realized now that their height difference truly was not much to speak of. "I would've thought you would've stayed there in the monastery and taken on a life of a monk, and complete your cultivation."

Raxri smirked and shook their head. "I've decided not to. I have other Cultivation Systems I wish to see. I still have to return to my first master. And I must find out why I am here, shorn of memory, removed from power. Besides, you had only lent me Sungai, not given him to me."

The corner of Akazha's lips rose. "Sungai will be able to return to me just fine, don't you worry. All you had to do was let him go." She laughed. A beat, then she said: "I'm glad you returned, however."

A lopsided smirk from Raxri. "Ah, so it was the great teacher that had missed me!"

A knee straight into Raxri's gut. This surprised Raxri tenfold: Akazha's martial capability was sudden. Was there aught she has yet to show? Groaning on the ground in pain--as they housed an impalation wound there as well--Raxri wondered firstly: What was Akazha's Cultivation level."

Instead of asking, however, all Raxri managed to croak out was: "I-I... a blade impaled me there..."

"Then have a great time meditating upon your pain!" She strode into the house and shut it behind her.

...

Worry not, however, dear listener. Akazha came out a few days later carrying medicines. She helped Raxri to their feet and into the house. Made them sit in the living room table and pulled off their monksrobes. The witch Akazha quickly applied their healing poultice while they chugged on a pipe. When she saw that Raxri had sustained multiple other injuries, scars, and wounds, they continued to apply healing poultices across all of them, to aid in Raxri's recovery.

She spent the most time dressing Raxri's kampilan wound. "A nasty one, this be. Any normal person would have been killed from this, either by pain, or by infection. It almost wounded your liver, even, and punctured your stomach. But you seem to have drunken some sort of elixir to make it heal quicker and keep it clean from infections." Akazha nodded approvingly. "I'll wrap it in bandages for now. Tonight, before you head to sleep, I'll dress it with some more healing salves, all right?"

Raxri could only nod, wincing as their wounds finally made themselves known after Raxri had grown ignorant of them.

"You cannot keep trudging on in the face of all these injuries," replied Akazha. "You will only regret it in the end." After she was done patching them up, she offered a pipe to Raxri: "This will help. This one is made of dewa seeds. It has magickal healing properties."

Raxri nodded, still wincing in pain. They took a long drag of the dragon pipe, and immediately felt a relief surging through them. Akazha sat across the table, smoking the pipe as well. She sat silently, watching the window.

Outside the sun was shy and only heat up a portion of the earth. It felt like it was going to rain.

When Raxri found that they could speak again, Raxri said: "What was that for...? That knee attack? Does the master not like it when they are reminded that they can miss someone?"

Akazha rolled her eyes. "I don't know if you're being serious or not."

"Witch Akazha, it is all right. I've missed you too! Why wouldn't you miss me?"

"Shut up!" She barked back, though she looked like she was holding back a laugh. Looked away. She said: "What did they do to you up there in Giant Stone?"

Raxri shrugged. Another wince.

"I am not entirely certain either," said Raxri. "But I did recover a lot of my old power during training there. And then some."

"I can tell. A new blade lies upon your hip."

Raxri nodded. They placed it on the table, scabbard and all. They pulled it out, showing the edge of it, the sheen. "It is a long sword I believe. A sundang, I think one of them called it. I used it to slay a demon chief. It is called Puksa."

"Annihilate." Akazha's eyes grew wide. "Slaying demon chiefs, eh? You have truly climbed up the rungs of the world."

"A long story," said Raxri. "Actually, everything that happened in the monastery is a long story. Nevertheless, I have stepped into the stream of sword cultivation. The Adamantine Sword."

"That geezer the old abbot taught you, huh?" She nodded, pride beaming from her eyes. "That old gurang. Good. I knew he would recognize you."

"Gurang?"

Akazha laughed. "It's a mean way to say 'old person.' Don't use it."

"Ah. Hah. And yes, he did," replied Raxri, taking another puff. "He said that I had gone there almost ten years ago, and I was possessed of great cultivation even then... but other than that all my past self did was get the tattoo and learn a bit of meditation techniques, I believe."

"But it is very auspicious," said Akazha. "That you had gone through here. This is not exactly something most people visit. This is eastern Pemi. This is the End of the World."

Raxri nodded. "Right. As I get glimpses of my past, I am only burdened with greater questions. What a predicament. My situation is a mire."

Akazha shrugged. "One thing at a time, Raxri Uttara. Now, tell me, what else?"

"Ah, I met the one monk that is the reason for your forbiddance from the monastery."

Akazha smirked. "Ah, Yiwaritala?"

Raxri nodded. "It seems that you remain a touchy subject to him."

"Ha!" Akazha barked out. "A laugh. Yiwaritala is somewhat annoying, you know. I was simply friendly to him, and then he just fell too hard. Now he's trying to spin it as if I was some sort of harlot. The nerve."

Raxri laughed. "Yiwaritala seemed like a good person, but he did seem a bit fraught at the fact that you almost made him break his monastic vows."

Akazha smiled. "Sometimes, being this pretty can be a curse." She flipped her hair, brazenly, mockingly.

"Ah, and I met a whole host of other monks. Pilinitala, who was a great warrior as well. Ampun Sagara--"

"--the great tattoo artist! He has done some of my tattoos as well." Akazha grinned.

Raxri nodded. "Yes. And the Doctor Myu Fan as well."

"Ah, the great Doctoress of Nunuk Vale. She's a great and powerful doctor, but all that knowledge has made her quite haughty."

"But it is knowledge she puts to good use," said Raxri. "It was thanks to her that our casualties were kept low when we assaulted the Silver Wind Cave."

"Silver Wind Cave? What happened there?"

Raxri relayed the entire events of the assault, the attack of the demon horde, how they almost got killed by protecting a child monk (this solicited an indignant smack from her), how they trained for the Adamantine Sword, how they marched up with a whole battalion of mercenaries and warrior-monks. How they learned that Silver Wind Witch Dog was a servant of heaven. More importantly, that Raxri of the Past had made an enemy of heaven, and now a group of mercenaries, the 108 Glaives of Heaven, hunted them down.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

After it all, a cold chill wind ran through them. Raxri noticed that Jikajika was nowhere to be found. Akazha took a breath, nodding. She rose to her feet and walked over to her work desk. "Let's have some more to smoke."

"Okay."

"Have you eaten?"

Raxri shook their head. "Not yet. I am pretty hungry."

"Elder Jikajika!" yelled Akazha through the window. Jikajika fluttered over to the windowsill immediately, smiling.

"Yes?--Oh, fabled Raxri Uttara! You have returned. I never doubted you would for a second, but the witch Akazha here constantly lamented about how she was sure you would never come back."

Raxri blinked at that, but didn't respond. Only tilted their head to the side.

Akazha hissed. "Shh! Raxri is hungry. We still have some left over chicken adobo, yes?"

"Aye, that we do, ye bitchling!" said Jikajika. "Freshly hot as well. Let thine elder prepare the table for thee-and-thee."

Before long, the table was set up with an adobo meal: fresh, hot, and perfectly sour-salty. It had whole red chili peppers in it so it was slightly spicy as well, which only added to the taste. Raxri ate it up, along with white rice and flavorful milk. Raxri did not realize just how hungry their body was! It only made sense, after being on a monastic diet as well as having to train almost everyday for the last few days.

The food did not last long. Jikajika ate with them, and after Raxri had finished eating, the three of them talked over betel nut and dewa smoke. Dewa, Jikajika had said, meant God in Southeast Nilatpa, where the seeds come from.

Then, Akazha told Raxri to relay everything that had happened to Jikajika. Raxri did so, trying to also patch in the details they had forgotten to include. They were able to regale the entirety of the story in a much more efficient manner in this way.

When they had finished, their teeth stained red with the betel nut, smoking pipe and drinking carabao milk, Jikajika sighed. "I see. So the one we have here. This fabled Raxri Uttara... is They Who Danced Against The Heavens!"

Raxri Uttara asked. "Do you know who that is? Do you know what that means?" They spoke now in casual register, Raxri realized. They tried to catch themself, but Jikajika did not seem to worry about it one bit.

Jikajika looked at Akazha, sighed, and shook their head. "Unfortunately, no," said Jikajika, matter-of-factly. They spat a globule of red onto the hole beside the table. "I've already told thee, haven't I? I may be a god in truth but I am a tellurian. As much as I want, I am not privy to the high-concept politicking of the high heavens, of the dancing celestines who lord over the earth. I am just as removed from the knowledge of thee as thou art."

Akazha nodded. "I must similarly admit. You must be a popular name among the spirit societes," said the witch, letting out a cloud of smoke. Her hair was loose now, stringing down her bare shoulders. "But not within my circles. Not here in the End of the World. Still, it is full worrying. You have those mercenaries chasing after you now, yes? The 108 Glaives of Heaven. Ha, perhaps 107, now, after you've slain Silver Wind Witch Dog."

"That be a good job, thou hast done, as an aside," said Jikajika to Raxri, smiling. "I've heard of the Silver Wind Witch Dog. Terrorizer of Jura Mountain. So terrible his reign has been that even we lowland spirits have heard of his name. And the mountain gods rarely let any of us learn about their troubles."

Raxri tilted their head to the side. "Why is that?"

"Hierarchy of course," said Jikajika, spitting again. "What else might it be, dear one? The mountain gods are closer to heaven. In a few more lifetimes, they might become celestines. The only way gods from heaven can physically arrive upon the realm of soil is also through those same mountains. It is the abode of spirits, of gods. It is how the earth touches the sky."

"I see." Raxri nodded thoughtfully, before spitting the rest of their betel nut into the hole and then picking up a pipe.

Akazha spoke again: "This world be a dangerous one, you would know, of course. Remember you the armorclad that spoke to me earlier?"

Raxri turned to Akazha. "Yes, master. What about him? Oh, and what language did you speak with him?"

Akazha smiled, puffed out another cloud of smoke. The color was just slightly gold, Raxri realized, and had the faint smell of sandalwood mixed with a note of lavender. "First, I must concede that you need not call me your master. Not anymore, unless you wish so. I will still teach you, but I am not too far above your current Cultivation Stage. I am your equal, I am similarly a student of Wairojashra's Adamantine Sword. Though I am your superior, I am no teacher, I am no master. I am not a garo."

Raxri tilted their head to the other side, wondering again: "Garo?"

"A precious teacher or master. That is the word in Elder Karitan. Other languages have it as tigtudlo, shifu, sensei, rama, guru, guro, koro, sage."

"Got it," said Raxri, nodding. They'd never heard it used before. All they know is Sage in Bazaar Kyarpan.

"Secondly, the armorclad general was, in truth, just that." Akazha pinched the bridge of her nose as smoke billowed from her lips. "A general turned adventurer after taking on your bounty," said Akazha. "That means he is one of the 108 Glaives of Heaven."

Raxri's face became solemn for a moment. So they converge upon me yet. They triangulate where I am.

"Thirdly, I was speaking Putunghuwa," she said. "The Common Speech of Celestial Shennin Society. While the region of Shen is just as diverse as any other region, Butunghuwa has evolved as their trade speak, and so it became the tongue of many for the purposes of speaking with each other. It is in general the lingua franca of northern Utter Islands, while Bazaar Kyarpan is the lingua franca of the southern Utter Islands."

"I see," said Raxri, nodding again in enlightenment. "If we ever travel north, will I have to learn to speak it?"

Akazha shrugged. "I can speak it just fine. Or perhaps we can find some sort of alchemist or wizard to craft a Translation Stone for you or something of the sort. We'll figure it out when we have to."

Raxri nodded. "Ah, that reminds me. I was told that the Raxri Uttara of the Past was a wizard as well." They let loose smoke from their lips.

Akazha raised an eyebrow at that. "Is that so? But you've forgotten all of that, I can tell. Magick is just as powerful as one's attunement of the Mind to it. You will need to rememorize and re-study everything you've forgotten." A beat, then Akazha said: "Perhaps that is one reason why your memory was torn from you. To weaken you to the ground, to the ranks of mortals. Your muscle memory still remains: that is how the phenomenal body works, after all. So your practice of Violent Systems remains. However, you've lost all knowledge of Magickal Praxis due to the loss of your memory, and so you've lost all magick."

Jikajika nodded. "Thou must have been one formidable magician, Raxri Uttara."

Raxri nodded. "I wish to learn it again. I wish to study Magickal Praxis."

Akazha blew out more smoke. "It will be difficult as well. I am not a magickal mentor either. And one of my mentors... she's in Blacklight Town."

"Blacklight Town..." Raxri nodded. "I guess that's where we're going next!"

Akazha couldn't help but burst out laughing at that sudden proclamation. Jikajika laughed along with her. "Oh, so you're calling the shots now here?" She said.

Raxri nodded, innocent smile upon their face. They drank a bit of the tea that they had forgotten Jikajika had brought out. It was real green tea, though it was also infused with some ginger, calamansi, and qilum herb, a common and popular healing herb in the Utter Islands that could grow almost anywhere. It was known as just qilum in Bazaar Kyarpan.

Akazha rolled her eyes, though the endearment was palpable. "Oh, Raxri. You know what? Fine. I 've not visited in close to six moons! We might as well. I know Master Sutasoma must be eager to hear about my exploits and my own progression and advancements. Just like you are so eager to tell me about yours."

Raxri's eyes lit up. "Do you think Master Sutasoma will take me in as well?"

Akazha smiled. "We never know with Master Sutasoma. She is all at once fickle and too strict. It is always a journey with her, and I don't exactly mean that in the best way. But she is my master all the same. All the good mystics and wizards are always fucked up in the head, one way or another."

Raxri grinned. Though, at the back of their mind they knew that being in such a place might grant them a better chance of staying safe, knowing now that heaven itself conspires against them. Their grin slowly faded as they sipped on their tea, wondering what else they could do. Akazha was in truth the only real friend they had, in this world. Other than the folks back at the monastery. It would be better if they went on their own way so that Akazha would not suffer any of heaven's wrath.

Akazha sighed. "Looks like we're heading to Blacklight Town. Let's let a few days pass, so that you can rest. No doubt that you're tired from all the traveling."

Raxri nodded. "I sure am. This world is dangerous. The Wilds of the Spirits, always trying to kill us. This must be more doing of the Invincible Blade Princess."

"That be true, I can confirm," replied Jikajika. "Hingsajagra--that is, this violent wheel--is our world, you know. The world of spirits, of tellurians, of monsters. Just like how the gods own heaven. You humans are simply tenants and renters of this land. You cannot fathom the length we've been here, it is too much for your mortal brains. And so when the Invincible Blade Princess with her blade of Ultima Ego set about to shattering and destroying the very fabric of this earth, not only were the monsters agitated, but so were all the spirits societies forced to take upon their wrathful visages. The only way to stay safe in this world..."

"...is through Guardian Spirits and Tutleary Deities, to create sanctuaries." Raxri continued. "I can tell."

"This is a violent, bleak world, Raxri," said Akazha, releasing more smoke into the air. "Even more so in this Black World of Warriors and Wizards. The normal world was already fraught, the Black World is a world of hungry cultivators competing, always trying to win one's Will from each other."

Raxri nodded in agreement. They could definitely see that. They regaled the story then of Iri Village, of Kamiro, and of Batan the Violet Lotus, that follower of the Unconquered Maiden. How they fought and how they liberated Iri Village through the slaying of the Dread Chief Dulumnan. It had gotten long, and when Raxri finished their talking they realized the sun was orange now, and low, about to dive into the Horizon Sea.

During the story, Jikajika had refilled their bowls with white rice and more adobo. When he returned, the little god said: "How delightful. You have gone through a slew of adventures on your own already!"

"Iri Village, huh," said Akazha, leaning back and drinking tea. "That's interesting. I'd always thought they were completely fine. Looks like you caught them at just the right time. How serendipitous."

"Or," said Jikajika. "Perhaps, a karmic bond of some sort. A confluence. Who knows the vagaries of alaya-vijnana?"

"Yes, yes, all that estoery and metamagick," Akazha said, waving her hand. "But this... Batan of the Violet Lotus. The Acolyte of the Unconquered Maiden. He was not one of the 108 Glaives of Heaven?"

Raxri shook their head. "I think not. They did not announce that they were. All I know is that they were after me so that they can take my Will, which seemed to be a true font of power for them."

"Then it is real. It is like the tale of Suentsang," said Akazha. "The reincarnation of Aurum Beetle."

Jikajika nodded. "This be true. Whosoever consumes Suentsang's flesh will attain immortality, for they were the reincarnation of one of the most powerful cultivators and followers of the Law."

"Did they say that consuming your flesh would grant immortality?" asked Akazha.

Raxri shook their head, they had taken to refill the contents of their pipe. "All they said this time was that eating me would be a huge boost in their Will."

"Hm. Then that makes our lives a bit more exciting, wouldn't you think?" Akazha grinned. "Looks like we have to keep ourselves in peak form, and never let our awareness down."

Biting their lip, Raxri looked at the floor. They realized the heaviness of their existence now, the burden of who they are. "I'm sorry. I endanger you--"

"Nonsense!" Akazha interrupted, followed by a bark of a laugh. "The only way I will get to cultivate as well is if these kinds of things happen. Allow me to accompany you on your adventures, Raxri!"

When Raxri looked at Akazha's eyes, they could feel a silent pleading behind it. A sadness. Raxri couldn't pinpoint why they felt that. The eyes were the window to the soul, after all. Akazha's words and movements were energized and spirited, but at the soul of all things Raxri realized that Akazha hid something that they could not yet ascertain.

Away, for now. At a later time, all things will be revealed, thought Raxri.

Raxri nodded, beaming with a smile. "Let's do it, master! I mean... Akazha!"

Akazha smirked. Jikajika also had a look of relief on their face. Again, Raxri wondered why, but quickly dismissed the thought when it lead to unproductive thinking.

"But first, you should get some rest," said Akazha. "Feel free to feast for a moment. No doubt they hadn't been feeding you a surplus in the monastery."

Raxri shrugged. "Just enough."

"Train well. Eat well. Get enough sleep," said Akazha. Raxri smiled--they had said similar words before. "That is the key to loving yourself. By loving yourself, you will love the world. In loving the world, you will love yourself."

"Sage advice dear Akazha!" said Jikajika. "It would do well for all of us to follow it!"

Akazha rolled her eyes, though she still smiled. "And don't worry about doing the dishes. I'll handle it for now. You must get your rest. Tomorrow I shall put you upon that road once again."

Raxri smiled again, and a giddy feeling welled up from the bottom of their chest. Like a fire, more golden than normal. A flame that did not scorch, but enliven. Invigorate.

They ate and shared stories well into the night. For a moment, all was all right. For that moment, for that blip in the grand river of time, everything was okay. Everything was all right, and there was nothing else to worry about. Happiness was easily attained there, when conversation becomes meditation.