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Logos: The Golden Path
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<blockquote data-quote="RedTonic" data-source="post: 5608890" data-attributes="member: 98994"><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">The new storyhour entry is actually above. I'm merely rearranging these two sections.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">*****</p><p></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">The young ascetic had awoken in a simple cell not unlike, nor far from, that of the other newcomer. He, too, depended upon the charity of the temple at this time, though in his faith, it was the greater order of things which sustained and buoyed him. The monk glowed with a numinous holiness which was almost palpable even to those not gifted with the ability to detect such things directly.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Whilst under the temple's aegis in Ceteran, Agniprava was also submitted to the spiritual guidance of an elderly sage. He had found, through slow and considered discourse, that many of her views on the nature of existence were very similar to his own, and that in all ways, her insight appeared to penetrate much more deeply. With that, and due also to her age, he found yielding to her instruction less difficult than he might have--especially considering her nominal patron, the goddess of death.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">The sage was called Usha, and had sun-darkened skin the color of a walnut, and hair as silver as a star. Her age, though great, was indeterminate--after a point, all old people simply looked old. It was with her that Agniprava currently meditated in silence. She had been sitting in the empty room before he arrived, and they had not yet been joined by others. The soft scrape of slippers and sandals beyond the curtained doorway and their own breathing were the only sounds beyond the turn of Agniprava's thoughts.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Her teaching methods were perhaps even more direct than those of his commune. An overreach on the part of her students was occasionally greeted with a resounding slap. Her lessons were laid out often times in the form of paradox in order to break down the walls of reason which blocked understanding according to the teaching she represented. She was, in a word, heterodox; yet she had somehow survived purges and orthodoxy and yet remained in this backwards town. Some said she had attained such a state of enlightenment that she no longer needed to eat or drink, so she had survived imprisonment; then she had attained a purity that no longer required her to breathe, so she survived the test of drowning; then she had attained a wholeness inviolate, such that she could not be burned at the stake--and so the inquisition let her be, for she obviously had the favor of the gods.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">For now, Usha urged Agniprava, in her own way, to learn action without thought--such that all action emerged from instinct, and was in all things correct. She entertained questions, of course--but they had to be correct questions... Which could be difficult to form.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Agniprava had grown more accustomed to this method of meditation in his short time at the temple into whose arms his journeying had ushered him. He was far more used to the recitation of mantras, as was the way of the monks with whom he had grown up. That practice, however, had been affronting to Usha, whose stern hand was, much to Agniprava's surprise, nearly at strong as those of his masters, whose iron fists had been his tutors in the martial arts. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">In truth, he was welcoming of different philosophies - it was, in fact, why he had ventured out of Astra Forest in the first place. But it was not simply a desire to learn that rendered him this submissive attitude. Much more to the point, Usha reminded him in many ways of the oldest of the monks he had left behind - the ascetics who were older than old, and whose wisdom and power were beyond contest. So it was easy for him to come to accept her as a new master - a new voice in his learning.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">As they sat together in the consuming silence, Agniprava tried as much as possible to think nothing at all. This was a teaching not foreign to him, though he still struggled with it, a difficulty made more so since Usha seemed to stress it even beyond his family. Sometimes this proved unfortunate for him, should he manage to disturb her tremendous concentration, a trait for which he held a great deal of admiration.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">He longed for the Mantras - the drone of the unending words, and the rhythm of the tones and syllables eased the passage of all thought from one’s mind. He had come to find, though, that that was her point precisely. Her annoying habit of rarely being wrong was irking, and though it had on more than one occasion left him put out, he appreciated the intensity and breadth of her unyielding wisdom. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Yes, a perfect teacher.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">His breathing was well controlled, which after his time here, and his years in the forest had become effortless. His heart had slowed to a bare crawl, and he could almost feel the blood slow in his veins. The very ground upon which he sat seemed to beat in tender harmony with him. He struggled against a painful awareness of how loud the curtain in the doorway was as the breeze kicked it to and fro, or the thunderous crash of the feet of those walking by in the hall. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">In this moment when he seemed to be entirely immersed in the flow of the world around him, a thought occurred to him. At first he was angry, as it had shattered his prescience, but then he turned it over in his mind, and he realized it was a question. A question for Usha. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">He opened his eyes. He cringed - such attempts had ended very poorly for him in the past - she was at times a cruel task master. But this one seemed to be...well, the point. He felt as though he never thought of a question quite like this one. It was the first time when he had the impression that asking a question might not earn him a swift backhand to the face. Summoning his courage as he did when one of his teachers instructed him to attempt to strike them, he spoke.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">"Teacher," he began, "If actions are to emerge from instinct only, and be free from our thoughts, then our actions are in tune with The Cycle, and in truth will resonant with the world around us." He paused, forming his question carefully. "If that is the case, and we are to be driven by instinct alone, how is it we judge when we must act, as our instincts will drive us to action in many ways, but only some actions will be in harmony with the Cycle itself?"</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Usha did not crack an eye when she responded. For a wonder, she did not bat him. Her voice was of the potency of a budding storm. "If you act from the moment--from sincerity, as some say--then there is no judging. There is only the natural response; the spontaneous good. For what is to judge but to think? And what is the thought of a novice but the whisper of false understanding? A student asked me, 'Usha, if a man walking along a river sees a child drowning and a grandmother drowning, whose life should he save?'"</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">After she posited the tale, Usha returned to silence. Her aura of stillness had not diminished from Agniprava's question.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">The answer was concise, but he had grown used to that. Not being hit had taken Agniprava somewhat by surprise. She however gave him a certain amount of clarity, not just about the murkiness his question implied, but also, he found, about his teacher. As similar as she was to his first masters, her thoughts and teachings sounded so different. The clarity of thought and action was not so different to be sure. Even the koan she offered to him sounded much like those the ascetics would recite to him. But to them it sounded much more like clarity of thought - that to consider, and to judge was the truth of the way. He felt as though the connection between Usha and his masters was that they would agree that the decision, the action which proceeds from the thought, should flow naturally, as merely an extension of ourselves, but there seemed to be a dichotomy as well, implied in that she felt there was no deciding, where to the monks it seemed to be everything.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Even as he thought the matter through, it occurred to him that the distinction may not be so severe as he first thought, though he felt as though he was thinking himself swiftly into circles. He was still a novice after all... He had time to think.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">He tried to settle back into his meditation with his master, thankful for the decided lack of pain that accompanied not being slapped, but feet outside the door shattered his already fragile concentration. At the same time, his muscles tightened - Agniprava had a preternatural habit of being ready for anything, as often his masters would test his reflexes by trying - and often succeeding - to catch him off guard. That and even though he felt she did not need any of his help, he had an instinctual reaction to stand between intruders and his teachers, which was in no small part due to the fact that for his whole life his teachers had not just been dry old men, but his family, and a family to his parents. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Loyalty, it might be said, was in his blood.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">He waited, his eyes now open to the veil in the doorway, to see who it was that was making their way towards them.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">A slight young woman in a pale, dingy robe emerged. She stepped in and hesitated when she saw Agniprava also in the room. A nearly imperceptible change of expression overtook her as she finished her steps. She knelt beside Usha and spoke tentatively in a language Agniprava did not know, but had heard a few of the eldest of elders speak. He had not yet heard the language here, however. The language was tonal and sounded almost musical. Usha did not respond. There was silence, and then the novice continued to speak quietly, darting a glance at Agniprava meanwhile.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Agniprava wondered why the young woman seemed so off put by his presence, as he watched her step into the room. He realized it might have something to do with how intently she was staring at her, and felt some remorse if he had put her out, but then he had hoped his disposition towards everyone in the temple would relieve any stress his occasional intensity might cause.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Usha gave no reply, but he knew she was listening intently. She never seemed to lose her concentration either, which he found truly inspiring. She then pointed at him, and he hoped that he had not done anything wrong. The whole of his observations came full circle - she was off put by him because she was talking about him... In a language he didn't know, no less. Now he was a bit off put, but he tried not to be dismayed by the affair. She could be saying anything to Usha really, and he would just have to wait.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">After a few moments, Usha merely pointed at him. The plain girl frowned very slightly, nodded, and rose. She left the room much quieter then she had entered it, and Agniprava found he had some trouble hearing her foot falls, which made him curious as to why she was trying harder to not be heard on her way out. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">"You will be at Sunsgate tomorrow at sunrise," Usha pronounced.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">He blinked at her, desperate to know what a Sunsgate was, and how he was to get there. He thought maybe it was a town, but wasn't sure. It sounded like a town. In truth it sounded like a few things. Maybe it was actually a gate, although he couldn't remember if this town had gates. The Temple had a gate - perhaps it was the temple's gate? He racked his brain a moment longer before he conceded to the slap no doubt headed his way.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">"Where, master, is Sunsgate, and how might I get there?"</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">A crack resounded through the small room. Usha withdrew her hand from Agniprava's cheek, leaving a perfect, hand-shaped welt there. "Walk east until you find a gate," she replied with equanimity in the space of stillness after she had manually cleared his head.</span></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RedTonic, post: 5608890, member: 98994"] [FONT=Verdana][SIZE=2]The new storyhour entry is actually above. I'm merely rearranging these two sections. [center]*****[/center] The young ascetic had awoken in a simple cell not unlike, nor far from, that of the other newcomer. He, too, depended upon the charity of the temple at this time, though in his faith, it was the greater order of things which sustained and buoyed him. The monk glowed with a numinous holiness which was almost palpable even to those not gifted with the ability to detect such things directly. Whilst under the temple's aegis in Ceteran, Agniprava was also submitted to the spiritual guidance of an elderly sage. He had found, through slow and considered discourse, that many of her views on the nature of existence were very similar to his own, and that in all ways, her insight appeared to penetrate much more deeply. With that, and due also to her age, he found yielding to her instruction less difficult than he might have--especially considering her nominal patron, the goddess of death. The sage was called Usha, and had sun-darkened skin the color of a walnut, and hair as silver as a star. Her age, though great, was indeterminate--after a point, all old people simply looked old. It was with her that Agniprava currently meditated in silence. She had been sitting in the empty room before he arrived, and they had not yet been joined by others. The soft scrape of slippers and sandals beyond the curtained doorway and their own breathing were the only sounds beyond the turn of Agniprava's thoughts. Her teaching methods were perhaps even more direct than those of his commune. An overreach on the part of her students was occasionally greeted with a resounding slap. Her lessons were laid out often times in the form of paradox in order to break down the walls of reason which blocked understanding according to the teaching she represented. She was, in a word, heterodox; yet she had somehow survived purges and orthodoxy and yet remained in this backwards town. Some said she had attained such a state of enlightenment that she no longer needed to eat or drink, so she had survived imprisonment; then she had attained a purity that no longer required her to breathe, so she survived the test of drowning; then she had attained a wholeness inviolate, such that she could not be burned at the stake--and so the inquisition let her be, for she obviously had the favor of the gods. For now, Usha urged Agniprava, in her own way, to learn action without thought--such that all action emerged from instinct, and was in all things correct. She entertained questions, of course--but they had to be correct questions... Which could be difficult to form. Agniprava had grown more accustomed to this method of meditation in his short time at the temple into whose arms his journeying had ushered him. He was far more used to the recitation of mantras, as was the way of the monks with whom he had grown up. That practice, however, had been affronting to Usha, whose stern hand was, much to Agniprava's surprise, nearly at strong as those of his masters, whose iron fists had been his tutors in the martial arts. In truth, he was welcoming of different philosophies - it was, in fact, why he had ventured out of Astra Forest in the first place. But it was not simply a desire to learn that rendered him this submissive attitude. Much more to the point, Usha reminded him in many ways of the oldest of the monks he had left behind - the ascetics who were older than old, and whose wisdom and power were beyond contest. So it was easy for him to come to accept her as a new master - a new voice in his learning. As they sat together in the consuming silence, Agniprava tried as much as possible to think nothing at all. This was a teaching not foreign to him, though he still struggled with it, a difficulty made more so since Usha seemed to stress it even beyond his family. Sometimes this proved unfortunate for him, should he manage to disturb her tremendous concentration, a trait for which he held a great deal of admiration. He longed for the Mantras - the drone of the unending words, and the rhythm of the tones and syllables eased the passage of all thought from one’s mind. He had come to find, though, that that was her point precisely. Her annoying habit of rarely being wrong was irking, and though it had on more than one occasion left him put out, he appreciated the intensity and breadth of her unyielding wisdom. Yes, a perfect teacher. His breathing was well controlled, which after his time here, and his years in the forest had become effortless. His heart had slowed to a bare crawl, and he could almost feel the blood slow in his veins. The very ground upon which he sat seemed to beat in tender harmony with him. He struggled against a painful awareness of how loud the curtain in the doorway was as the breeze kicked it to and fro, or the thunderous crash of the feet of those walking by in the hall. In this moment when he seemed to be entirely immersed in the flow of the world around him, a thought occurred to him. At first he was angry, as it had shattered his prescience, but then he turned it over in his mind, and he realized it was a question. A question for Usha. He opened his eyes. He cringed - such attempts had ended very poorly for him in the past - she was at times a cruel task master. But this one seemed to be...well, the point. He felt as though he never thought of a question quite like this one. It was the first time when he had the impression that asking a question might not earn him a swift backhand to the face. Summoning his courage as he did when one of his teachers instructed him to attempt to strike them, he spoke. "Teacher," he began, "If actions are to emerge from instinct only, and be free from our thoughts, then our actions are in tune with The Cycle, and in truth will resonant with the world around us." He paused, forming his question carefully. "If that is the case, and we are to be driven by instinct alone, how is it we judge when we must act, as our instincts will drive us to action in many ways, but only some actions will be in harmony with the Cycle itself?" Usha did not crack an eye when she responded. For a wonder, she did not bat him. Her voice was of the potency of a budding storm. "If you act from the moment--from sincerity, as some say--then there is no judging. There is only the natural response; the spontaneous good. For what is to judge but to think? And what is the thought of a novice but the whisper of false understanding? A student asked me, 'Usha, if a man walking along a river sees a child drowning and a grandmother drowning, whose life should he save?'" After she posited the tale, Usha returned to silence. Her aura of stillness had not diminished from Agniprava's question. The answer was concise, but he had grown used to that. Not being hit had taken Agniprava somewhat by surprise. She however gave him a certain amount of clarity, not just about the murkiness his question implied, but also, he found, about his teacher. As similar as she was to his first masters, her thoughts and teachings sounded so different. The clarity of thought and action was not so different to be sure. Even the koan she offered to him sounded much like those the ascetics would recite to him. But to them it sounded much more like clarity of thought - that to consider, and to judge was the truth of the way. He felt as though the connection between Usha and his masters was that they would agree that the decision, the action which proceeds from the thought, should flow naturally, as merely an extension of ourselves, but there seemed to be a dichotomy as well, implied in that she felt there was no deciding, where to the monks it seemed to be everything. Even as he thought the matter through, it occurred to him that the distinction may not be so severe as he first thought, though he felt as though he was thinking himself swiftly into circles. He was still a novice after all... He had time to think. He tried to settle back into his meditation with his master, thankful for the decided lack of pain that accompanied not being slapped, but feet outside the door shattered his already fragile concentration. At the same time, his muscles tightened - Agniprava had a preternatural habit of being ready for anything, as often his masters would test his reflexes by trying - and often succeeding - to catch him off guard. That and even though he felt she did not need any of his help, he had an instinctual reaction to stand between intruders and his teachers, which was in no small part due to the fact that for his whole life his teachers had not just been dry old men, but his family, and a family to his parents. Loyalty, it might be said, was in his blood. He waited, his eyes now open to the veil in the doorway, to see who it was that was making their way towards them. A slight young woman in a pale, dingy robe emerged. She stepped in and hesitated when she saw Agniprava also in the room. A nearly imperceptible change of expression overtook her as she finished her steps. She knelt beside Usha and spoke tentatively in a language Agniprava did not know, but had heard a few of the eldest of elders speak. He had not yet heard the language here, however. The language was tonal and sounded almost musical. Usha did not respond. There was silence, and then the novice continued to speak quietly, darting a glance at Agniprava meanwhile. Agniprava wondered why the young woman seemed so off put by his presence, as he watched her step into the room. He realized it might have something to do with how intently she was staring at her, and felt some remorse if he had put her out, but then he had hoped his disposition towards everyone in the temple would relieve any stress his occasional intensity might cause. Usha gave no reply, but he knew she was listening intently. She never seemed to lose her concentration either, which he found truly inspiring. She then pointed at him, and he hoped that he had not done anything wrong. The whole of his observations came full circle - she was off put by him because she was talking about him... In a language he didn't know, no less. Now he was a bit off put, but he tried not to be dismayed by the affair. She could be saying anything to Usha really, and he would just have to wait. After a few moments, Usha merely pointed at him. The plain girl frowned very slightly, nodded, and rose. She left the room much quieter then she had entered it, and Agniprava found he had some trouble hearing her foot falls, which made him curious as to why she was trying harder to not be heard on her way out. "You will be at Sunsgate tomorrow at sunrise," Usha pronounced. He blinked at her, desperate to know what a Sunsgate was, and how he was to get there. He thought maybe it was a town, but wasn't sure. It sounded like a town. In truth it sounded like a few things. Maybe it was actually a gate, although he couldn't remember if this town had gates. The Temple had a gate - perhaps it was the temple's gate? He racked his brain a moment longer before he conceded to the slap no doubt headed his way. "Where, master, is Sunsgate, and how might I get there?" A crack resounded through the small room. Usha withdrew her hand from Agniprava's cheek, leaving a perfect, hand-shaped welt there. "Walk east until you find a gate," she replied with equanimity in the space of stillness after she had manually cleared his head.[/SIZE][/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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