Raven Quest

by R A Oakes

  “Perhaps four of us could join you, Master,” Xankar, who was both a male ghost and a senior monk, suggested tactfully. “If only to show our guests the proper attention they deserve.”

  “A most kind thought, Xankar, my good friend,” Vangalaya replied, though fully aware that Xankar wanted to replace her as the monastery’s spiritual master once she crossed over into the next life, a prospect that had kept her from doing so. “But Raven and I should be alone for a while so we can speak privately.”

  “Of course, Master, but maybe her companions should stay here with us. We’d love to learn more about them,” Xankar suggested politely, though his thoughts were anything but courteous regarding humans.

  “Some of her companions, including Aldwen, Zorya, Renivy and Brianuk, will remain here with you, and they’ll provide much enlightenment regarding the ways of humans, I’m sure,” Vangalaya said. “I wish I could stay to share the experience with you. However, you’ll have to provide me with a summary upon my return.”

  “But you want to be alone with Raven, Master,” Xankar added, though with a sense of resignation in his voice, for he realized Vangalaya would not be dissuaded.

  “Yes, but I have a feeling that after all the years these four have served together, Raven is about as alone as they’ll ever allow her to be, and we must be mindful of our guests’ customs, true?”

  “Yes, of course, Master. My apologies if I spoke out of turn,” the ghost monk said, bowing respectfully. However, there were a few senior monks who doubted Xankar’s sincerity, knowing him to have one main weakness, an intense desire for power. And this was in conflict with a basic aspect of Xao-Lin philosophy which said that no one should seek influence over another. Monks were taught to resist any invitation to accept power, seeing it as being disruptive to a simple and meditative lifestyle. Only when the entire community was in agreement, and only when there was no other reasonable alternative, should a monk accept a position of authority. Leadership was considered to be a sacred trust, something given only to those possessing deep humility and a simple spirit, for the monks believed that power could corrupt all but the most enlightened.

  However, in the deepest recesses of his heart, Xankar was hungry for power, even to the point of coveting it above all else, and he was filled with pride. He hid it well, at times even succeeding in hiding it from his own conscious mind, but there it lurked. Few suspected the truth, but Vangalaya was one of those who had sensed it, as had Rothena.

  “No apology is necessary, Xankar, but on this one matter, I must insist,” Vangalaya said quietly but with a firm edge to her voice, indicating that all discussion on this particular matter was closed.

  “Enjoy the fresh air, Master,” Xankar said, having reluctantly accepted his teacher’s decision.

  “I will, my friend, and thank you,” Vangalaya replied. And with a sweep of her robes, she headed for the double doors at the far end of the great hall. Raven, Dynarsis, Starlight and Andylan followed, though slowly and cautiously, knowing one quick move on their part was all it would take for the vegetarian trolls to attack. These 200 monks, including 50 of the most influential and respected ones at the monastery, would all fight to the death to protect Vangalaya, should they perceive her to be in danger.

  Vangalaya no longer had a physical body, true, but there was a second level of death, the destruction of one’s spirit, the death of one’s soul, and even she couldn’t survive such a trauma. The travelers had no knowledge of such things, but the monks did, and they knew their spiritual master wasn’t invincible. A determined attack by a demonic witch or by another ghost could prove fatal, and the death of one’s spirit would remove any hope of crossing over into the next life. None of the travelers were ghosts, but they were strangers, and thus to be viewed with suspicion.

  “Well, they were a friendly group,” Raven said to Vangalaya after they’d put some distance between themselves and the great hall.

  “Yes, they were all rather tense. But, to your credit, you shook them up and got them thinking about life from a new perspective. And since enlightenment is what this monastery is all about, you did them a great favor. They are in your debt.”

  “If that’s how they are when in my debt, I’d hate to see them when they aren’t,” Raven said, smiling ruefully.

  “Well, they helped you forget your troubles for a while, didn’t they?”

  “Yes, Master, I suppose you’re right.”

  “And except for Rothena and Galaxen, I didn’t tell them your real reason for being here. So, the monks know nothing about your quest for megentum, which you told me about on our way up the trail.”

  “I think they’ve learned enough about us, Master.”

  “Enough for today, but tomorrow, I may call upon you to challenge them again. They need to expand their consciousness, and you’re good at helping them do that.”

  “As long as it doesn’t get me killed.”

  “No promises, but let’s put such taxing matters aside for the moment.”

  “What’s next?” Raven asked, suspecting that this spiritual master wasn’t going to allow a new student to waste even one valuable moment while at the monastery.

  “Rocks, we’re going to visit some rocks.”

  “Yes, Master,” Raven said, and she, Dynarsis, Starlight and Andylan obeyed without question. It was the first time the tight-knit group had ever yielded control of their lives to an outsider. In a way, they still hadn’t because the four were about to become five.

  Chapter 16

  As Vangalaya, Raven, Dynarsis, Starlight and Andylan proceeded down a series of wide corridors, the monks they encountered, both the living and the dead, were wide-eyed with surprise. Not only was Vangalaya walking with three humans, but she was in the flesh and fully visible. And even more surprising, the nearer any ghost monks got to Raven, the more visible they themselves became.

  The transformation began when the ghosts were about 50 feet away and, with each step, they became more colorized, no longer looking like vegetarian trolls made of thin clear glass. Then, once they were within a few feet of Raven, the ghosts became completely solidified. But after walking past her, the ghosts became less and less visible, gradually returning to normal, at least what was normal for them.

  However, for many of the ghosts, becoming visible wasn’t necessarily a welcome change. Along with increased visibility came a big increase in their physical weight. Ghosts were used to gliding along the hallways, but now they had to walk, and it took a considerable effort just to keep moving. The previously-invisible monks were so unfamiliar with their heavier bodies that many just stopped in their tracks, confused and overwhelmed as gravity took hold of them. Muscles that the ghosts hadn’t used in years had atrophied making it hard for them to support their own weight even while standing still. Many let themselves sink to the floor, slowly returning to their ghostly form as the humans walked past and got farther away.

  “Wow, those ghosts look stunned,” Raven said.

  “Yes, and I know what they’re going through,” Vangalaya sighed. “On the way up the mountain, Raven, you and I were walking side-by-side for most of the way. But after we got closer to the top, my legs started giving out, and I was worried that I might have to be carried the rest of the way. However, I pushed on, hoping to experience this phenomenon as fully as possible. If I want to encourage others to keep growing, then I must set a good example.”

  “I’m sorry, Master. If I’d known how difficult it was for you, I’d have walked well behind you, as far away as necessary. But I didn’t fully understand that I was the one causing the transformation.”

  “Well, I had an idea it was you, my daughter. And recently, I’ve been trying to light a fire under my fellow monks, especially since the meat-eating trolls are on the move. Not long ago, a few of our ghost monks followed a small army of meat-eating trolls led by their new warlord, Zarimora, and what the monks witnessed sickened them. Zarimora and her army were on a mindless rampage slaughtering every man, wo
man and child that her meat- eating trolls could find. And they were burning villages, something they’d never done before.”

  “Zarimora has formed an alliance with a witch named Balzekior,” Raven replied, “and will emerge as an all-powerful troll queen. And this is just the beginning. If we don’t get the megentum we need, and if we can’t create Baelfire, then we’ll all end up dead or enslaved.”

  “It could be worse.”

  “What do you mean, Master?”

  “Rather than dead or enslaved, what about dead and enslaved?”

  “Enslaving dead people? Enslaving ghosts? Is that possible?”

  “It is for Balzekior.”

  “You already know about her?”

  “Enoughtorealizethatshe’saspiritual nightmare.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Balzekior’s a demonic witch, and she can see the spirit world. She can see ghosts, just like you can. They don’t actually solidify when around her, but she can still attack them. With an alliance between Balzekior and Zarimora, the old crone can attack the dead, and the new troll queen can attack the living.”

  “Yes, Master, and 20 years from now, they’ll win. I came from the last human stronghold, the last free fortress, and it’s falling to the trolls. Aldwen, the wizard, believes creating a magic sword will help defeat them, but in the deepest stillness of the night, I’ve had my doubts. Meat-eating trolls appear unstoppable.”

  “You can’t allow yourself to believe that. If you believe in your heart that we will fail, then we will.”

  “And we do fail, Master, I’ve seen it.”

  “All that means is that things must change.”

  “It’s easy to say, Master, but if vegetarian trolls dislike change as much as humans, then your monks will resist. Isn’t it difficult, very difficult, to create lasting change, Master? And no one’s going to thank you if you succeed.”

  “To the best of my ability, I must help guide these monks, regardless of whether it’s a thankless task. One way or another, change is coming. And how long can the monastery survive if thousands of meat-eating trolls come pouring out of Gratuga?”

  “Only thousands, Master? Where I come from, there are tens of thousands.”

  “The monastery can’t survive such a challenge.”

  “You’re right, Master, the monastery doesn’t survive,” Starlight said, speaking up for the first time.

  “Losing the monastery in 10 or 20 years would be a devastating blow.”

  “Well, it’s coming a lot sooner than that, Master,” Raven informed the ancient monk. “While the monastery exists, Zarimora can’t get too far from Gratuga. If she strikes farther east, the monks could attack from behind. She’ll realize it, and she’ll come for us.”

  “We will resist with every ounce of strength we have,” Vangalaya declared, though she doubted her own bravura. The vegetarian monks at the Xao-Lin monastery had always been warriors, but Vangalaya also knew they were more inclined towards meditation than violence.

  “I’ve seen the monastery in flames, Master, actually seen it with my own eyes,” Starlight said with a heavy heart. “And it’s coming sooner than later, much sooner.”

  “When exactly?”

  “Coming into the past, into your present, has clouded my memory, Master,” Starlight replied. “And I can’t recall specific details. But the end is coming, and it’s coming sooner than anyone expects.”

  “Then change needs to happen now, not later.”

  “Yes, Master, but how?” Starlight asked, shaking her head, unable to believe that an alliance between vegetarian trolls and humans could succeed against Zarimora and Balzekior. Not after all the death and destruction Starlight had witnessed.

  “Failure can get into your blood, my child. We can be taught to fail,” Vangalaya cautioned the vegetarian troll.

  “And we do fail, Master, we do fail,” Starlight sighed, filled with despair.

  Looking into the eyes of Starlight, Raven, Dynarsis and Andylan, the ancient monk saw how haunted these warriors were, haunted by the years of warfare and defeat. And so, most off all, she realized they needed to experience success, and to do so quickly, if she was going to gain their cooperation. A tidal wave of change was about to engulf the region, and she needed to enlist the aid of these warriors, especially Raven, if the monastery was going to adapt and survive.

  Yet Vangalaya knew that the monks, both the living and the dead, resented the arrival of these unusual guests, and they resented Raven most of all. The monastery was a spiritual refuge with traditions that were centuries old. And the monks were worried that Raven, an uncivilized human, might have been chosen by the Xao to be one who was uniquely gifted with spiritual energy. Most of all, the monks were worried that this human might upset the established order.

  Vangalaya realized that what the monks needed the most was what they also feared the most, the need to accept change, and a lot of it.

  Vangalaya had sensed the hostility towards Raven, but also something even worse. She’d sensed jealousy. Some monks were jealous, and such an emotion could undermine the very foundation of the monastery’s Xao-Lin philosophy. The willingness of each of the monks to inwardly become like an empty vessel, like an empty cup, was an important fundamental belief of Xao- Lin spiritual training. But jealousy could quickly fill a cup or a monk with destructive emotions. An even greater concern, Vangalaya knew, was that jealousy could evolve into hatred, and hatred eroded the soul, eating away at one’s inner spirit. It could create a serious division within the monastery, a schism between those willing to adapt to change and those who clung to the established order.

  Vangalaya realized that the monks needed to be shocked out of their spiritual complacency because Balzekior and Zarimora were anything but complacent. Yet if the monastery became embroiled in an internal power struggle, it would work to Balzekior’s and Zarimora’s advantage, allowing Gratuga’s power to grow unopposed.

  Well, that’s not going to happen, Vangalaya told herself grimly. That’s simply not going to happen.

  When the ancient monk looked around her, she realized Raven, Starlight, Dynarsis and Andylan had all been waiting patiently, giving the spiritual master time to be alone with her thoughts.

  “Well, I guess I drifted off for a few moments,” Vangalaya said smiling. “I’d apologize, except that a monastery’s supposed to be a place for reflection. On the other hand, it’s also a convenient way of covering up my absentmindedness.”

  The four war-weary travelers smiled, and Raven said, “I wish I could achieve the inner peace you possess, Master Vangalaya, even for a few moments. You have an inner stillness that I’d like to get lost in.”

  Vangalaya didn’t have the heart to tell them that she’d been thinking about the coming upheaval, about the end of a way of life that had existed at the monastery for countless generations. With a heavy heart, she shook off her worries, and decided to lighten the mood by pointing out the humorous side effects of ghost monks becoming visible whenever they got close to Raven.

  “If preoccupied with their thoughts, ghost monks sometimes walk along without paying much attention to anyone else, even to monks who are alive. And that’s because ghost monks can walk right through them.”

  “So, they can walk through walls, doorways and pretty much anything else?” Dynarsis asked.

  “Yes, and after you’ve been dead for a while, you begin to realize how physically restrictive a body can be. It can be a real nuisance.”

  “For example?” Dynarsis said.

  “I don’t have to eat or sleep.”

  “That would be convenient,” Andylan agreed. “But if you don’t have the same problems we do, why bother being here at all? Why not just cross over into the next life? Why not be free of all the pain and suffering that goes along with being alive?”

  “I had to make that very choice,” Vangalaya said. “When I died, I felt myself being drawn into a vast realm of seemingly endless energy. Then, I heard a kind yet powerful
voice which offered me the opportunity to either enter a land of peace and tranquility or to return to earth and be of service to others.”

  “Don’t tell me that you’re here by choice?” Raven asked in disbelief.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Why?”

  “A higher awareness entered my consciousness, and I began to suspect that I’d regret it if I took the easier path.”

  “Why?” Raven asked again, clearly mystified. “If I had a chance to avoid pain and suffering, I’d take it. And I’d never come back.”

  “So, what are you doing here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why are you here at the monastery?”

  “We’re seeking megentum to make a magic sword, to create Baelfire.”

  “And why is that?”

  “To help my warrior women, the 100 women I left behind in a stone tower, a tower surrounded by thousands of trolls. Maybe Baelfire would change things, and my warriors wouldn’t end up being trapped in that tower facing certain death. So, I’m doing this for them and for my family,” Raven said, thinking of Zorya and Renivy. “And Renivy deserves a chance to live in a better world than I did.”

  “Exactly,” the ancient spiritual master said.

  “Yes, but if I die, I’ll still be spiritually alive and can cross over. However, if you die, you’ll experience that second level of death you told me about, the death of one’s spirit. And then, you’ll cease to exist. You’ll never be able to cross over.”

  After pondering Raven’s words for a few moments, Vangalaya said, “If I had it to do all over again, I’d make the same choice. It’s not so easy to walk away from those you love, especially if they still need you.”

  “What are you, an angel?”

  “Nothing as sweet and gentle as that, I’m afraid.”

  “So what are you?”

  Straightening her back and squaring her jaw, the ancient monk’s eyes brightened, and she said, “A warrior angel.”