Raven Quest

by R A Oakes

  Looking at Vangalaya, Raven felt a tiny shred of hope, which was more than she’d experienced in years, though her first reaction was to dismiss it. But if an ancient warrior angel could keep on fighting, then maybe she could as well. And for the first time Raven could remember, she felt her eyes misting up, which was even more of a shock to her than having a ghost for a mentor or, for that matter, having any mentor at all.

  Dynarsis, Starlight and Andylan looked at their leader, saw a tear threatening to spill down one cheek, and were genuinely shocked. It had never occurred to them before that their leader was capable of such emotions. The Raven they knew was a woman with an iron will, a quick temper and a breathtakingly-quick sword. Their leader was the most unsentimental person they’d ever known. Until now.

  Unwilling to wipe her eyes before a tear fell, unwilling to admit that this old woman had touched her so deeply with her selflessness, Raven clenched her fists and said, “I don’t know about an angel, but you’re a sly devil.”

  “If you ever meet Balzekior up close and personal, you’ll learn what a real demon is like. And believe me, having me accidentally embarrass you in front of your friends is nothing compared to what that old crone will do to you if she gets the chance.”

  Raven remained silent, collecting herself, and then said, “I thought you were supposed to be pointing out the humorous side of ghosts bumping into living monks?”

  “Oh, yes, excuse me. I got sidetracked. And I do a lot of that lately.”

  “Well?” Raven said, feigning impatience.

  “Before we talk about humorous things, how about pondering a question?”

  “What now?”

  “What if I’m not here to help you? What if you’re here to help me?”

  “I’ll help you into that second level of death you told me about if you try to get me all choked up again,” Raven said with a steely tone in her voice.

  Dynarsis, Starlight and Andylan looked at each other and smiled. Hearing the hard edge to their leader’s voice provided a sense of comfortable familiarity. They’d all heard that edge to Raven’s voice many times before, so much so, that hearing it now was kind of reassuring. They knew that Raven couldn’t actually hurt Vangalaya, only another ghost or a demon like Balzekior could do that. But if the ancient monk wasn’t careful, she just might get a good look at what Raven could be like when she cut loose with a temper that was legendary.

  “I’m being serious. I don’t want to admit I’m getting old, but I am getting tired, more easily fatigued. Oh, I don’t mean physically fatigued, I know I haven’t got a body. But I’m feeling inwardly tired.”

  “Fine, I’ve come to a monastery looking for help and meet an ancient monk who needs a nice, long nap. Given my luck, I’m not surprised. You’re the kind of angel I’d end up with.”

  “Maybe you’re my angel.”

  “Well, your God would have to be a very forgiving God, given all the trolls I’ve killed. And I’ve killed humans, too. Traitors, all of them traitors, but I killed them. No, I’m not anyone’s idea of an angel.”

  Undeterred, Vangalaya thought to herself, Yes, you just might be what I’ve been waiting for, a good female leader who’s also a warrior angel, my warrior angel. And I need my angel to be alive, physically alive.

  Then Vangalaya said, “Okay, let’s talk about ghosts and living monks walking into each other.”

  “Sure, I’d like to hear more about that,” Raven said. “But doesn’t it bother you when others refer to you as a ghost?”

  “No, it doesn’t bother me at all.”

  “Others might find it offensive.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s like saying you don’t matter.”

  “Being that I’m practical, at least I try to be, it’s what I do that matters. Not who I am, not what I stand for, and not even what I believe in. It’s what I do that matters.”

  “I agree.”

  “I know you do, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here,” Vangalaya replied.

  Raven remained silent, not knowing how to respond. No one had ever sized her up so quickly and so accurately before. However, after a few moments, Raven asked, “Am I that easy to read?”

  “Yes, and I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  “Who am I?”

  “You’re a woman on a desperate mission, and I like that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m just as desperate.”

  “Desperate? Why?”

  “Because I’m the spiritual leader of a monastery steeped in traditions that are about to become meaningless.”

  “When?”

  “How long do you think our rituals are going to protect us once thousands of trolls come marching up our mountain trail?”

  “You have ghost monks who can kill without even being seen. I’d say that gives you the edge.”

  “We kill the occasional troll who’s stupid enough to wander up the path. But my monks don’t have the stomach for the kind of mass killings that will be necessary to defend this monastery. If Gratuga attacks in force, we are doomed.”

  “Well then, you’re doomed because I don’t know what you expect from me, but I haven’t got the stomach for mass killings anymore myself. I’m sick of war. I thought defending my neighbors would help keep me going, help give me the strength to continue fighting battles that desperately needed to be fought. But I’m drained. I’m empty. Endless warfare, endless battles and endless death have taken their toll on me. All I am now is a survivor. Someone just trying to survive.”

  Vangalaya looked at Raven with understanding and compassion, but inwardly, secretly, the ancient monk was overjoyed. Her warrior angel had come forth in all her exhausted and wretched glory. For who else but someone this worn down, someone this empty, someone this eager to be filled with goodness and decency, could be entrusted with so much power?

  Hiding her sense of elation and changing the topic, if only to give herself a chance to catch her breath, Vangalaya said, “Enough of serious matters. I promised you a humorous break, and you shall have it.”

  “Living monks bumping into ghosts? I was wondering when you were going to make good on your promise.”

  “As I’ve said before, I’m not sure if it’s due to my age, but I tend to get to things in a rather roundabout manner these days.”

  “I never would have guessed,” Raven said smiling, though deeply relieved to have been able to express her fears and concerns to someone as experienced as Vangalaya.

  “All right, take a look up ahead. Do you see those three living monks who’ve just come in the main entrance?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, they’re walking three abreast, side-by-side in a row.”

  “Yes.”

  “And they’re heading right for the ghost monk who just walked past us. While he was near you, he was in solid form and very visible. But now, he’s farther away and less so. Next, I can see that my ghost monk is preoccupied and thinking of other things, which normally wouldn’t be a concern. However, at the distance he is from us now, I’d say my ghost friend is probably the consistency of very soft gelatin, a nice smooshy form of gelatin. I know this ghost monk, and I think he can handle a bit of a joke, but let’s see what happens.”

  “Well, this should prove interesting,” Raven said with the hint of a smile on her lips.

  “Okay, I’ll start the countdown. Three, two, one . . . smoosh!”

  The gelatin ghost and a living monk, both males, collided with what sounded like someone slapping the surface of a pool of water. And then, both seemed to be walking in slow motion as the gelatin monk kept moving forward while the living monk felt something slimy and sticky flowing all over him. The gelatin went in the living monk’s nostrils, his eyes, his ears and ran through his hair. His face was covered with it, though only for a few seconds, until his nose and mouth appeared once again as he came out the other side. Looking over his shoulder, the living monk saw the gelatin flowing over his robes an
d felt it moving around his ankles.

  Once the living monk had completely passed through the ghost monk, they quickly became involved in a philosophical discussion about something the ghost monk had been thinking about. As it turned out, some of his thoughts had remained behind in the living monk’s mind. And whatever the discussion was about, it seemed even more interesting than what they’d just experienced, at least to them, the gelatin incident having been almost immediately forgotten.

  As the monks delved even deeper into their animated conversation, Vangalaya realized they were two friends who’d been working on a presentation which they were giving in a training class the next day. Having passed through each other, the two monks had a much clearer idea of how the other felt about their topic and were intent on pursuing a new line of thought which seemed to resolve an issue they’d previously disagreed about.

  Vangalaya smiled and said, “Well, those monks were able to handle a new and rapidly-changing situation without a moment’s hesitation. And it’s a great example of Xao-Lin philosophy encouraging greater openness and adaptability. If my other fellow monks respond this well to unexpected circumstances, things should work out better than expected. My, this is very encouraging. Very encouraging.”

  “Yes,” Raven agreed. “If that had happened to me, I’m not sure how I would have responded.”

  “But you, my child, are not the product of decades of Xao-Lin training, discipline, emotional openness and a thirst for enlightenment,” Vangalaya said, obviously pleased with her monks’ performance in front of her guests.

  Suddenly, another ghost monk sped past them heading in the direction of the main entrance. This particular monk, however, was walking on the opposite side of the very-wide hallway, and so he hadn’t become totally solid. Also, he was so consumed by whatever he was thinking that he hardly even noticed the change to his body.

  Vangalaya quickly realized that it was Xankar, as did her guests, and the ancient monk was pleased with him as well. Xankar hardly seemed fazed by the experience, and he hadn’t slowed down at all, even with the increased weight a physical body imposed upon him. Soon, the ghost monk was far enough away from Raven that he was already in a gelatin-like consistency. And it wouldn’t be long until Xankar returned completely to being a nearly- invisible ghost.

  Then, Vangalaya saw Yanpur, a female living monk, entering the monastery and she, too, appeared preoccupied. The ancient monk observed the situation with some concern. Yanpur and Xankar appeared to be heading straight for each other. Vangalaya became even more concerned when she remembered how awkward Xankar could be around women, especially when it involved anything of a personal nature. However, by the time Vangalaya shouted a warning to Xankar, it was too late.

  Three, two, one . . . smoosh!

  Xankar and Yanpur collided, the ghost monk’s gelatin body wrapping around the living woman, their thoughts and emotions temporarily becoming as one. But this time, it was more than just a meeting of the minds between two friends.

  Unbeknownst to Vangalaya, Xankar and Yanpur had been spending more time together recently, and the young woman was thinking of asking the senior monk to accept her as his student. And though unaware of this, Vangalaya still held her breath, not knowing what to expect.

  From Yanpur’s standpoint, being ever practical, the situation seemed manageable. But Xankar was feeling embarrassed.

  Yanpur had great respect for Xankar’s spiritual insights, and she had welcomed a pragmatic spiritual relationship. However, for the elderly ghost monk, it was somewhat different. Xankar had become captivated by Yanpur’s beauty and by the graceful way she walked. In short, he had a crush on her. Up until now, the elderly monk had kept his feelings hidden, and Xankar was deeply chagrined to learn that, under current conditions, this was no longer possible.

  When Yanpur became aware of Xankar’s affection for her, she smiled and wasn’t particularly offended. She already knew that her beauty had an effect on some of the younger monks, several of whom had developed a crush on her, and she’d always handled them firmly and politely. Yanpur was confident that she could manage Xankar quickly and easily as well. It wouldn’t be long, she believed, until she’d get their spiritual relationship back on track.

  As for Xankar, he was grateful that Yanpur had spared him the embarrassment of speaking openly with him about it. On her part, the young woman had sensed his relief and had smiled once again, pleased that the situation was resolving itself so readily.

  Though in her early 20s, Yanpur possessed a maturity equal to that of monks twice her age, and she knew what she wanted. Xankar was one of the most senior monks at the monastery, with only Vangalaya having more standing within the community. And the young woman was eager to learn from him, a strong desire for spiritual enlightenment being the very center of her existence.

  All that the young woman wanted was to follow the ways of the Xao, the universal life energy that flowed through all things. On the purest level imaginable, Yanpur wanted to embrace the monastery’s Xao-Lin philosophy. She understood the importance of putting aside personal pride and ambition while embracing humility and selflessness. She believed that only by emptying herself, only by possessing nothing, could she have everything.

  As Yanpur and Xankar were on the verge of separating completely, the young woman found that she could still sense his thoughts and feelings as easily as her own, and she reassured him, via her thoughts, that there was no harm done. That is, at least until the very last of Xankar’s gelatin was about to leave her fingertips, and then Yanpur saw it.

  To her shock and dismay, she sensed that Xankar had no actual interest in a simple lifestyle and viewed such an existence as being wholly undesirable. And she sensed Xankar’s enormous pride and ambition which filled his heart so completely that there was room for nothing else.

  Feeling completely devastated, Yanpur realized that her mentor had been lying to her all along. On top of that, she sensed that Xankar wanted to replace Vangalaya as the monastery’s spiritual master. And he wanted to do it now not later.

  As the link between them was being severed, Yanpur got one last glimpse into Xankar’s mind and realized that he was more of a politician than a spiritual leader. His many acts of kindness towards the other monks over the years had all been part of a coldly calculated plan to gain influence and gather a following.

  Astounded by this senior monk’s subtle treachery, Yanpur thought, A power struggle in a Xao-Lin monastery would be unprecedented. And worst of all, she realized, was that Xankar had almost succeeded in ensnaring her in his web.

  In horror, Yanpur stumbled away from Xankar, looking at him as if he were a stranger. Then, glancing down the hallway, she saw Vangalaya and ran to her. Kneeling before the ancient monk, Yanpur touched her forehead to the polished wood floor and pleaded with the old woman to accept her as a student.

  Vangalaya didn’t know what to make of this and, looking in the direction of the main entrance, the ancient monk didn’t know what to make of the look on Xankar’s face either. Once again, the ghost monk was nearly invisible, at least to the living, but Vangalaya could see his facial features clearly. And she was shocked by the anger in his eyes. Vangalaya didn’t understand why Xankar would be so upset with her, but the ancient monk quickly realized that he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Raven, the person he suspected of being directly responsible for his body having changed into gelatin.

  As Xankar stormed out of the front doors, Vangalaya didn’t have to see his face to realize his anger was bordering on hatred. And she knew it wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge.

  Looking at the young woman kneeling before her, Vangalaya said, “Yes, I’ll accept you as a student. But I have important business with my friends here, and it might be best if you return to the great hall and visit with Rothena for a while until I get back.”

  “Yes, Master Vangalaya,” Yanpur said, standing up and embracing the ancient monk. “I’m grateful, very grateful.”

  �
��I’m happy to have you as a student, Yanpur. I’m sure we have much to learn from each other.”

  “Yes, Master, and thank you,” she said before heading towards the great hall. As Vangalaya watched the young woman walking away, she sensed Yanpur’s fear, a fear of Xankar. And Vangalaya thought, I don’t know what Yanpur learned about Xankar that frightened her so badly. But if I provoke much more change, change that’s stressful to Xankar, and it will be, then I have a feeling that I’m going to find out.

  However, Vangalaya refused to back down for she possessed as much courage as she did wisdom. And she thought, If Raven proves worthy, I’ll go through with my plan. And Xankar’s true colors will be revealed.

  Looking around at Raven, Dynarsis, Starlight and Andylan, the ancient monk said, “Let’s go visit some rocks.”

  “Yes, Master,” they all said, bowing to the warrior monk. And once again, without question, they obeyed.

  Chapter 17

  Centuries ago, Xao-Lin monks had built their spiritual refuge well below the mountain peaks, allowing them to avoid the harshest westerly winds in winter, even though snow blanketed those heights year-round. The monastery also had a second windbreak, one only a few hundred yards to the north where the mountainside jutted out to the east forming a massive wall. So the ridge along the top of the mountain and the wall of rock immediately to the north created an “L” shaped corner which sheltered the monastery, almost as if the mountain was putting a protective arm around it.

  The monastery, with its hundreds of rooms, had been built with gray stone quarried by the founding monks when they widened a crevasse, a natural tunnel, leading deep into the mountain. The tunnel’s entrance was at the top of the northern windbreak, and the crevasse went down to ground level and beyond, far beyond.

  The founding monks had not only widened the crevasse but had carved a stairway all the way to the bottom. However, upon reaching the end of the downward tunnel, there was a second crevasse, a second natural tunnel, one with a level horizontal floor heading south. South in the direction of Gratuga.