There was a monk who went on a journey to the west but never came back. Stories have been told as to what befell him. Some say he fell at the Edge of the Earth. Others say he runs to this day from the demons who long to devour his blessed body in hopes of attaining immortality. Still others believe he has already found greener fields and never wished to come back.
Stories come and go, not as much to tell what truly happened as to comfort ourselves from our own blindness, ruling over things we know not. Whoever remains in darkness abides there forever--lest one possess light to look back to where they were, to witness where they are, and to see what lie ahead.
There was a monk, who went on a journey to the west. He never came back--he had nowhere to come back to. He knew everything that had come to pass. That was what he found at the end of his journey.
Lives later, the monk, now reborn as Justin Go, handed over to me the scriptures he has saved from this sacred journey. He fulfilled his mission at last.. Again he goes on a "journey to the west". This time, he will never be back.
This was the monk's story. It only begins here.
- Jason Martin "Jman" Naniong
(Originally published at http://iam-datu.livejournal.com/65018.html)
Showing posts with label ancients. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ancients. Show all posts
16 August 2007
Ancients: Visions I
Resolved to unravel the true mystery behind her visions once and for all, Empress Ching, risking her life, decides to consult the prophet Sherniel, whose emperor, Gero, had just suffered a great loss from the Empress's forces in the battle in Leviathan. To her surprise, the prophet welcomes her openly and gives her his words. Is Sherniel just a disillusioned mad man the Empress had always thought he was, or was the scholar Emzo not telling her something, and that Sherniel really is a Prophet sent down by Destiny to unseal a revelation that will shake the hearts of all in Existence?
A hooded maidservant wore the darkness of night as she hurried through the Imperial Forest. To where she was heading no one knew. In fact, she didn't want anyone to know, and through her silent, quick steps she made sure it stayed such. She knew danger awaits her, in the forest where she now passes, and in the destination she was heading for. Yet she moved on alone. She remained unperturbed, but she was ever vigilant on anything that would come her way.
Without warning, something swift came past her. It barely missed her cheek and tore through her hood before she grabbed it. It was a needle. Suddenly more of them rained on her, but she evaded and caught them all.
Somewhere in her midst, a voice spoke.
"What insolence! A rogue maidservant dared to defy her Empress and defile her Sacred Forest!"
"True," the maidservant replied. "The Empress has indeed forbidden anyone to pass by her forest at night. You are just as guilty as I."
"Hah! For a lowly maidservant you speak proudly!," the voice remarked. "Do thou even knowest to whom thou speaketh?!"
"You words are fancy, fit for a noble," the maidservant commented. "Unfortunately I don't care if you are. I have an errand to attend to. And if thou must excuse thine presence...lest I disgrace thee."
From behind the maidservant a masked figure emerged. The figure held daggers on each of its hands. With rage it flew towards the maidservant.
"From this life 'til your next no words shall come from you--for I shall take your tongue that defiled our Noble Words!"
As the figure approached her, the maidservant threw the needles she have in her hand towards it. The figure sweeped the needles away, and drawing near the maidservant, prepared to slash her. The maidservant then took out two bladed fans and evaded each of her enemy's assault.
Trying to escape, the maidservant flew up. The masked figure followed, and on the tree branches they fought. Eventually the two stepped on a weak branch, and both fell to the ground as it broke.
The masked figure managed to stand first, and without delay approached the still lying maidservant. Just as it was about to stab her, the maidservant swirled up and hit away the figure's dagger. With the other dagger the figure attacked the maidservant who was as ever incensed to defeat her enemy.
In the chaos of their fight, the two came to a dreadlock. Willing to see the face of their enemy, the two took off the other's facade and prepared to strike each other.
What the now unmasked figure saw drained away the zeal from its hands as if it were cut off.
"Ching?!"
The Empress, unhooded of her guise, was just as shocked.
"Valerie!"
---
"How is the Emperor, Rey?," Sherniel inquired the nobleman who just bowed to him.
"He sleeps well, Sherniel," Rey replied. "Yet he remains as weak from the last battle."
"And your wounds?," Sherniel asked.
"Gina's gift of the earth's green proved worthy," Rey remarked.
Sherniel smiled at him. "You remain as humble as ever, Lord Rey. Even though the gift of your bloodline--your Eye--would be sufficient enough to heal you."
"It's not so," Rey countered. "The Angel's Eye, though powerful as it seem, is worthless without Destiny's will."
"And so is everything that exists," Sherniel added. "But Rey, dons't concealeth thee thy words cradle thy guilt. Rey...you still blame yourself for the Emperor's loss, do you?"
Indeed, Rey could not deny the Prophet's words. Visions from that battle in Leviathan remain fresh in his mind. How their ship sailed helpless against the enemy's imperial fleet. How Claro, once his ally, now almost took his life. How his ever reputed Eye, which could see through all deception, failed to save the Emperor--his friend, Gero--from falling for the Empress's trap. How, because of this failure, a comrade now suffers...
"Sherniel! Sherniel!," a woman tensely called as she entered the Prophet's tent. She fell on her knees in front of the two men and wept as she lamented. "Dear Prophet...Lord Rey...father...his pain thine heart cans't bear..."
The Paul that they found in his tent was worse than they anticipated. His body, trembling but rigid, winced in vain for comfort. His face was blue and pale, his mouth wide open like his eyes which stared at the ghostly forms of Death itself, though he could see not nor hear nor feel. He let out a sound--a screech or a hum it cannot be told, yet called neither pain nor guilt nor hatred, but of sheer emptiness.
Gina fell near her father and wiped his mouth off grime, cleansed by tears that flowed down her rosy cheeks, as well as from her father's own. Rey went near the two but beared not look at his comrade; he sat when his feet can endure his conscience no more. Sherniel knelt beside Gina and put his hand over Lord Paul's head. Murmuring prayers, light came forth the Prophet's hand and enveloped the Lord all over. Paul's contorted stature slowly diminished, and he fell into a slumber.
"For now, Paul will find repose," Sherniel remarked as he slowly stood up. Gina looked at her father's face. Despite his now peaceful image, Gina still was not relieved. Any moment, his father will suffer again. She will witness it all once more--the cries of a fallen man, not living nor dead, without emotion nor silence.
to be continued...
(Originally published at http://iam-datu.livejournal.com/26066.html#cutid1)
A hooded maidservant wore the darkness of night as she hurried through the Imperial Forest. To where she was heading no one knew. In fact, she didn't want anyone to know, and through her silent, quick steps she made sure it stayed such. She knew danger awaits her, in the forest where she now passes, and in the destination she was heading for. Yet she moved on alone. She remained unperturbed, but she was ever vigilant on anything that would come her way.
Without warning, something swift came past her. It barely missed her cheek and tore through her hood before she grabbed it. It was a needle. Suddenly more of them rained on her, but she evaded and caught them all.
Somewhere in her midst, a voice spoke.
"What insolence! A rogue maidservant dared to defy her Empress and defile her Sacred Forest!"
"True," the maidservant replied. "The Empress has indeed forbidden anyone to pass by her forest at night. You are just as guilty as I."
"Hah! For a lowly maidservant you speak proudly!," the voice remarked. "Do thou even knowest to whom thou speaketh?!"
"You words are fancy, fit for a noble," the maidservant commented. "Unfortunately I don't care if you are. I have an errand to attend to. And if thou must excuse thine presence...lest I disgrace thee."
From behind the maidservant a masked figure emerged. The figure held daggers on each of its hands. With rage it flew towards the maidservant.
"From this life 'til your next no words shall come from you--for I shall take your tongue that defiled our Noble Words!"
As the figure approached her, the maidservant threw the needles she have in her hand towards it. The figure sweeped the needles away, and drawing near the maidservant, prepared to slash her. The maidservant then took out two bladed fans and evaded each of her enemy's assault.
Trying to escape, the maidservant flew up. The masked figure followed, and on the tree branches they fought. Eventually the two stepped on a weak branch, and both fell to the ground as it broke.
The masked figure managed to stand first, and without delay approached the still lying maidservant. Just as it was about to stab her, the maidservant swirled up and hit away the figure's dagger. With the other dagger the figure attacked the maidservant who was as ever incensed to defeat her enemy.
In the chaos of their fight, the two came to a dreadlock. Willing to see the face of their enemy, the two took off the other's facade and prepared to strike each other.
What the now unmasked figure saw drained away the zeal from its hands as if it were cut off.
"Ching?!"
The Empress, unhooded of her guise, was just as shocked.
"Valerie!"
---
"How is the Emperor, Rey?," Sherniel inquired the nobleman who just bowed to him.
"He sleeps well, Sherniel," Rey replied. "Yet he remains as weak from the last battle."
"And your wounds?," Sherniel asked.
"Gina's gift of the earth's green proved worthy," Rey remarked.
Sherniel smiled at him. "You remain as humble as ever, Lord Rey. Even though the gift of your bloodline--your Eye--would be sufficient enough to heal you."
"It's not so," Rey countered. "The Angel's Eye, though powerful as it seem, is worthless without Destiny's will."
"And so is everything that exists," Sherniel added. "But Rey, dons't concealeth thee thy words cradle thy guilt. Rey...you still blame yourself for the Emperor's loss, do you?"
Indeed, Rey could not deny the Prophet's words. Visions from that battle in Leviathan remain fresh in his mind. How their ship sailed helpless against the enemy's imperial fleet. How Claro, once his ally, now almost took his life. How his ever reputed Eye, which could see through all deception, failed to save the Emperor--his friend, Gero--from falling for the Empress's trap. How, because of this failure, a comrade now suffers...
"Sherniel! Sherniel!," a woman tensely called as she entered the Prophet's tent. She fell on her knees in front of the two men and wept as she lamented. "Dear Prophet...Lord Rey...father...his pain thine heart cans't bear..."
The Paul that they found in his tent was worse than they anticipated. His body, trembling but rigid, winced in vain for comfort. His face was blue and pale, his mouth wide open like his eyes which stared at the ghostly forms of Death itself, though he could see not nor hear nor feel. He let out a sound--a screech or a hum it cannot be told, yet called neither pain nor guilt nor hatred, but of sheer emptiness.
Gina fell near her father and wiped his mouth off grime, cleansed by tears that flowed down her rosy cheeks, as well as from her father's own. Rey went near the two but beared not look at his comrade; he sat when his feet can endure his conscience no more. Sherniel knelt beside Gina and put his hand over Lord Paul's head. Murmuring prayers, light came forth the Prophet's hand and enveloped the Lord all over. Paul's contorted stature slowly diminished, and he fell into a slumber.
"For now, Paul will find repose," Sherniel remarked as he slowly stood up. Gina looked at her father's face. Despite his now peaceful image, Gina still was not relieved. Any moment, his father will suffer again. She will witness it all once more--the cries of a fallen man, not living nor dead, without emotion nor silence.
to be continued...
(Originally published at http://iam-datu.livejournal.com/26066.html#cutid1)
Ancients: The Celestial Siblings
A young devastated man was awakened by sounds of chanting. He was however too weak to move. He remained lying on the shattered piece of what was once a mighty ship, drifting on the vast sea that threatened to keep him forever. Perhaps, he thought, the Sirens have come to get him.
The chants sounded clearer. Indeed, he thought, the Sirens are coming for him.
Woe is to him, Bobit, the Ember Serpent, a nobleman from the Royal House of the Flame, a warrior of the Guardian Order fighting valiantly alongside his comrades for the Holy Emperor at that last Battle in Leviathan--now no more than a handsome young concubine for despicable creatures in the depths...
NO, he thought, he wouldn't allow such fate to befall him. He summoned all the strength that remains of him and sat up.
But lo! Not ugly Sirens, but a gathering of people did he meet from afar.
As his raft slowly drifted closer, he gradually saw that that they were actually a group of women, wearing colorful robes and sitting on the water. It was indeed them who were chanting, though he has never heard of the language before.
His raft came to a sudden halt, just far enough for him to see the women clearly. By now the women should have taken notice of him, but none of them did. They remained in their places, deep in prayer, clapping their hands and chanting while earthen jars sat snugly on top of their heads. Bobit watched them silently. He was amazed over such show of pious devotion.
He took notice of someone among these women. The person sat just in front of them, completely covered in an elaborately woven veil that glimmered under the sun, a golden crown sitting on the person's head.
The women stopped chanting, and the veiled person stood up. Two women ceremonially took off the person's crown and veil. What met Bobit's eyes next was of pure delight.
For in place of the veiled person stood a beautiful young lady. Her delicate pale skin threatened to outshine the sun. She wore a distinct attire that cannot be described anything less than regal, and gentle flowing cloth on her arms gave her the impression of a sparrow. In her hand she held what seemed to be an ancient staff.
With her eyes closed, the lady raised her staff, and the women chanted once more. Waves encircled her as she encircled her staff around her. She danced, and the waves went up like crystal clear ribbons that she seem to command at will. Such power emanated from the lady that Bobit thought the whole sea will shake, but to his surprise the sea became calm, much calmer that it lay smoothly like glass. Bobit watched at how graceful the lady danced. He was taking notice of the serenity of her face when the lady opened her eyes. She stared at Bobit, and smiled.
That moment, Bobit wanted nothing more than to get close to the lady. And so, he stood up and stepped out of his raft.
But alas! Instead of stepping on shallow water, he plunged on an endlessly deep sea. What trickery has befallen him! He was absolutely sure the water was shallow enough to walk upon. How else could those women do so? But his realization came too late. The water pulled him deeper and deeper. Bobit took of his metal armor and struggled to swim back up, but couldn't. He tried and tried, until at last his strength left him. The sun now was no more than a rippled haze that became dimmer each time. It was his end, Bobit thought, and the sea would be his grave. For the last time, he thought of the face of the lovely lady that has brought him to this end. He closed his eyes, thinking of the lady embracing him in her arms.
-o-o-o-o-
Redam...Redam, sem citanlah...
Bobit slowly opened his eyes. It was as though he's still in a dream, seeing the face of the young lady in front of him, smiling.
Redam...jemang!
Bobit then heard giggles around him. At last he has fully awakened.
"Hariadang yang Sridama," Bobit heard someone seemed to scold. "Daarang tu mensamasama yang dariparang!"
"Ayu, Gadang!", the young lady replied, "Hatian sema da...miaherikherik ma dangan lehikanyang!"
"SRIDAMAYANG!", the woman blushed and covered her face in embarassment as everyone around her laughed at what the lady has said. Thereafter she stood up and helped Bobit on his feet.
"Forgive me dear Sir," the lady said to Bobit, "but the woman over there, Gadang, adores you so much. Actually...they all like you."
"You speak my language?", Bobit asked in surprise.
"I do, but not everyone here can," she replied.
Bobit looked around and saw the same women he saw a while ago looking at the two of them. It mustn't have been long since he nearly drowned, for they were all still there in that same place in the middle of the sea.
"Jemang lehikanyang!," the lady called Bobit, "Didn't you ever know that only the people who were blessed by the Water Goddess like us, the Mahisaioms, could walk on water? Well...it doesn't matter now."
The lady cleared her throat before continuing. "By Saiomie's leave the water has cleansed thee and healed thy wounds, and adorned thy garments and armor anew, lest we be accused of insolence to a nobleman."
Bobit stared at the lady who was proud to utter such a formal sentence. Her emerald-brown eyes sparkled as her moist lips shaped her every word. If only she would tell her name...
"What were you doing here, if I may ask?," Bobit said.
"We were doing a Desalting Ritual so we could gather unsalted sea water to use for cooking for the feast tonight," she replied. "But I reckon that is not what you truly wish to ask. The sweat on thy brows tell so."
The lady wiped off the beads of sweat that lined Bobit's eyebrows. She stared at his innocent, childish eyes. He truly is jemang, she thought.
"You asked, and I will answer. I am merely a humble servant of the Goddess Saiomie, the keeper of Her Holy Staff, the Awang--a priestess. In our tongue, I am Krisantung--the Sea Sparrow. But in your tongue, as well as of the Gods...I am Kirsten."
Bobit was about to introduce himself when Kirsten embraced him. Bobit was surprised, naturally.
"Do not worry, dear warrior, for this is no more than our custom for someone we expect to come. The Mage David has told me about you, Bobit. And you have come at last."
The Ember Serpent and the Sea Sparrow have indeed met, as was destined.
(Originally published at http://iam-datu.livejournal.com/18868.html#cutid1)
The chants sounded clearer. Indeed, he thought, the Sirens are coming for him.
Woe is to him, Bobit, the Ember Serpent, a nobleman from the Royal House of the Flame, a warrior of the Guardian Order fighting valiantly alongside his comrades for the Holy Emperor at that last Battle in Leviathan--now no more than a handsome young concubine for despicable creatures in the depths...
NO, he thought, he wouldn't allow such fate to befall him. He summoned all the strength that remains of him and sat up.
But lo! Not ugly Sirens, but a gathering of people did he meet from afar.
As his raft slowly drifted closer, he gradually saw that that they were actually a group of women, wearing colorful robes and sitting on the water. It was indeed them who were chanting, though he has never heard of the language before.
His raft came to a sudden halt, just far enough for him to see the women clearly. By now the women should have taken notice of him, but none of them did. They remained in their places, deep in prayer, clapping their hands and chanting while earthen jars sat snugly on top of their heads. Bobit watched them silently. He was amazed over such show of pious devotion.
He took notice of someone among these women. The person sat just in front of them, completely covered in an elaborately woven veil that glimmered under the sun, a golden crown sitting on the person's head.
The women stopped chanting, and the veiled person stood up. Two women ceremonially took off the person's crown and veil. What met Bobit's eyes next was of pure delight.
For in place of the veiled person stood a beautiful young lady. Her delicate pale skin threatened to outshine the sun. She wore a distinct attire that cannot be described anything less than regal, and gentle flowing cloth on her arms gave her the impression of a sparrow. In her hand she held what seemed to be an ancient staff.
With her eyes closed, the lady raised her staff, and the women chanted once more. Waves encircled her as she encircled her staff around her. She danced, and the waves went up like crystal clear ribbons that she seem to command at will. Such power emanated from the lady that Bobit thought the whole sea will shake, but to his surprise the sea became calm, much calmer that it lay smoothly like glass. Bobit watched at how graceful the lady danced. He was taking notice of the serenity of her face when the lady opened her eyes. She stared at Bobit, and smiled.
That moment, Bobit wanted nothing more than to get close to the lady. And so, he stood up and stepped out of his raft.
But alas! Instead of stepping on shallow water, he plunged on an endlessly deep sea. What trickery has befallen him! He was absolutely sure the water was shallow enough to walk upon. How else could those women do so? But his realization came too late. The water pulled him deeper and deeper. Bobit took of his metal armor and struggled to swim back up, but couldn't. He tried and tried, until at last his strength left him. The sun now was no more than a rippled haze that became dimmer each time. It was his end, Bobit thought, and the sea would be his grave. For the last time, he thought of the face of the lovely lady that has brought him to this end. He closed his eyes, thinking of the lady embracing him in her arms.
Redam...Redam, sem citanlah...
Bobit slowly opened his eyes. It was as though he's still in a dream, seeing the face of the young lady in front of him, smiling.
Redam...jemang!
Bobit then heard giggles around him. At last he has fully awakened.
"Hariadang yang Sridama," Bobit heard someone seemed to scold. "Daarang tu mensamasama yang dariparang!"
"Ayu, Gadang!", the young lady replied, "Hatian sema da...miaherikherik ma dangan lehikanyang!"
"SRIDAMAYANG!", the woman blushed and covered her face in embarassment as everyone around her laughed at what the lady has said. Thereafter she stood up and helped Bobit on his feet.
"Forgive me dear Sir," the lady said to Bobit, "but the woman over there, Gadang, adores you so much. Actually...they all like you."
"You speak my language?", Bobit asked in surprise.
"I do, but not everyone here can," she replied.
Bobit looked around and saw the same women he saw a while ago looking at the two of them. It mustn't have been long since he nearly drowned, for they were all still there in that same place in the middle of the sea.
"Jemang lehikanyang!," the lady called Bobit, "Didn't you ever know that only the people who were blessed by the Water Goddess like us, the Mahisaioms, could walk on water? Well...it doesn't matter now."
The lady cleared her throat before continuing. "By Saiomie's leave the water has cleansed thee and healed thy wounds, and adorned thy garments and armor anew, lest we be accused of insolence to a nobleman."
Bobit stared at the lady who was proud to utter such a formal sentence. Her emerald-brown eyes sparkled as her moist lips shaped her every word. If only she would tell her name...
"What were you doing here, if I may ask?," Bobit said.
"We were doing a Desalting Ritual so we could gather unsalted sea water to use for cooking for the feast tonight," she replied. "But I reckon that is not what you truly wish to ask. The sweat on thy brows tell so."
The lady wiped off the beads of sweat that lined Bobit's eyebrows. She stared at his innocent, childish eyes. He truly is jemang, she thought.
"You asked, and I will answer. I am merely a humble servant of the Goddess Saiomie, the keeper of Her Holy Staff, the Awang--a priestess. In our tongue, I am Krisantung--the Sea Sparrow. But in your tongue, as well as of the Gods...I am Kirsten."
Bobit was about to introduce himself when Kirsten embraced him. Bobit was surprised, naturally.
"Do not worry, dear warrior, for this is no more than our custom for someone we expect to come. The Mage David has told me about you, Bobit. And you have come at last."
The Ember Serpent and the Sea Sparrow have indeed met, as was destined.
(Originally published at http://iam-datu.livejournal.com/18868.html#cutid1)