Shattered Lands: Book 8 of Painting the Mists

by Laplante, Patrick

  Maybe that’s what I’m looking for, Huxian thought. Maybe the answer is to cover the sun. If the sun is obscured, wouldn’t the sun set? Wouldn’t those spirits be freed? He decided to proceed inside the shadows toward the plateau. As he crossed that invisible threshold, his own shadow inverted and merged with the plateau’s. And the moment it did, an amazing sight appeared before his eyes.

  The plateau wasn’t empty like he’d initially imagined. Instead, it was hidden. Within these shadows, there was light. Monks meditated everywhere he looked. Some performed mundane tasks like laundry, cooking, or sweeping. Some even taught children. Moreover, they weren’t ghostly figures like the city before, but real individuals made of flesh and blood.

  A man in orange robes with a bald head greeted him at the entrance. The man reminded Huxian of Gong Lan, except he was male.

  “How can this one help you, benefactor?” he said with a gentle smile, a bow, and a strange hand gesture Huxian figured was part of his religion.

  I’m here to find a monk, Huxian said. He looked around uncertainly. There were monks everywhere, but which one was he looking for?”

  “I can help you find any monk you desire to meet,” the man said. “My name is Ao. Do you wish to learn more about the Buddhist way? A demon joining our ranks would be unusual but not unheard of.”

  Huxian scoffed inwardly. He wasn’t crazy like those Buddhist demons. No, if he ever learned Buddhist arts, he’d probably be like that damned monkey that studied them but didn’t really follow their precepts. Following strict rules wasn’t his style, and avoiding karma? How could one be as awesome as he was without sowing karma? It was simply impossible.

  I’m not sure that I’m suited to the Buddhist way, Huxian said. But I’m seeking assistance on a matter. I have a friend, no, many friends, who need an exorcism.

  “Ah,” Ao said. “That’s something that we help with from time to time.”

  Great! Huxian said. I don’t know if one of you is enough, though. I think I might need everyone’s help.

  “Everyone’s?” Ao said, looking back to the monastery. “Surely you jest. Even I alone am enough to purge tens of evil spirits.”

  I wouldn’t call them evil spirits, Huxian said. More like lonely wandering ghosts. None of that evil karma. They’re just floating around, unable to leave.

  “A regrettable case,” Ao said. “But even so, I alone should be enough.”

  Huxian suppressed his irritation and thought about how to guide the conversation. He’d never been good at talking to humans. We’re talking about millions of ghosts here. Can you really do that on your own?

  “Benefactor, you mustn’t joke like this,” Ao said with a frown. He wagged a lecturing finger. “Lies sow negative karma with others. It is better to be truthful, though some exceptions exist, like lying to avoid hurting other.”

  I’m not lying, Huxian said. It’s really there. An entire city filled with ghosts! At the mention of the city, Ao’s expression darkened.

  “I’m afraid I cannot help in this matter,” Ao said. “They are suffering the curse they desired. This is karma of the deepest kind.”

  But—

  “Trouble yourself not with those sinners,” Ao said, shaking his head. “If there is nothing else, benefactor, I will return to my station.” The man walked away and sat cross-legged nearby. There was something odd about the man, but what monk wasn’t odd?

  Since Huxian had walked all the way here, he couldn’t leave empty-handed. He traveled to a monk who was sweeping the flat stone ground. Her every sweep lifted not a trace of dust off the pristine floor. “Greetings, benefactor,” she said. “How may this one, Li, help you.”

  I’m looking for a monk, Huxian said. A powerful one.

  “There are many powerful monks here,” Li said. “I myself am a resplendent monk.”

  Huxian raised an eyebrow. And you, a resplendent monk, are sweeping this clean plateau?

  “It is everyone’s duty to serve,” Li said. “Powerful or weak, big or small, everyone must do their part.”

  Then you’ll help me save that city? The one full of ghosts? Huxian asked.

  “Ah, that city,” Li said, sighing lightly. “Unfortunately, I can do nothing about their situation. Only they can resolve their own karma. We cannot help, for by doing so, we would anger the guardian of this land.”

  Huxian frowned. Buddhists, though set in their ways, usually went out of their way to help others. Why weren’t they doing so in this case? The woman moved on and continued her sweeping, so Huxian moved on to the next monk.

  Like this, Huxian traveled across the entire sunless plateau, questioning every man, woman, or child he saw. All of them were monks and greeted him pleasantly. Each of their expressions darkened when he mentioned the city. It took him an entire day to question everyone on the mountain. Not a single monk volunteered to go help the city, despite all the goodwill they expressed when they greeted him.

  Depressed, Huxian lay down. Though there were many buildings on the plateau, most of them made from a wonderful heat-reflecting white stone, he didn’t need to take refuge from the sun. The sun didn’t shine in these strange shadows that gave off light. The heat within him didn’t dissipate, but neither did it increase. It was similar but very different to the outside world, where endless dust reigned.

  There must be something here, Huxian thought. There must be someone who can help. He’d questioned all the monks he’d seen, but did that mean he’d questioned everyone? Perhaps the one he was looking for was just away for a while. Away from this fully functioning society atop the mountain.

  I wonder where the kids come from? Huxian thought. Or the adults, for that matter. It was a curious thing to see such life despite the desolation outside. So, as he waited, he decided to observe the people. Small monks, barely more than four years old, and likely abandoned by their parents, learned important lessons on remaining calm and being of service. They were taught by kindly bald men that patiently accepted their antics as they guided them toward monkhood. When they grew older, they would either choose to stay as monks or go back into the world as enlightened participants.

  Huxian looked for a while. Then, exhausted from his long journey, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  “Greetings, benefactor,” a voice said, waking Huxian.

  Huxian looked up and saw the same bald man who’d greeted him yesterday. He wore the same orange robes as before. Unsurprising, since monk fashion had never been vibrant or prone to change.

  Do you need anything? Huxian asked.

  “I just wish to know how this one can be of service to you,” Ao said. “We monks exist to serve.” He smiled lightly.

  Huxian, annoyed at the question, snorted. “I already told you want I wanted.”

  “Oh?” Ao said. “I do not remember meeting you. Perhaps we had this conversation in another life, another time. Perhaps you can repeat your request.”

  “I only asked you a day ago,” Huxian said dryly. “I doubt much has changed. Can you and all these monks go to the nearby city and exorcise a million ghosts for me?”

  Ao’s face darkened. “I’m afraid I cannot help in this matter. They are suffering the curse they desired. This is karma of the deepest kind. Trouble yourself not with those sinners.” He shook his head. “If there is nothing else, Benefactor, I will return to my station.” The man walked away and sat cross-legged nearby.

  Odd, Huxian thought. Very odd. He looked around and noticed everyone was busy. Curious, Huxian walked to the second person he’d spoken to, Li. Hello, Monk Li, Huxian said. How are you doing today?

  “Pardon, Benefactor, but I believe this is the first time we’ve met,” Li said. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  A chill ran down Huxian’s spine.

  Don’t you remember me? I asked you about powerful monks, Huxian said.

  “I am certain we’ve never met,” Li said. “As for powerful monks, there are many around here. I myself am a resplendent monk.”
>
  Huxian, concerned, continued their discussion. You’re a resplendent monk? Why are you sweeping the plateau?

  “It is my duty to serve, just as it is anyone’s,” Li said. “Powerful or weak, big or small, everyone must do their part.” It was almost the same response, but not exactly.

  Have you heard of a city full of ghosts? Huxian asked, slightly changing the nature of the question.

  “Ah, that city,” Li said, sighing lightly. “They are bound by karma to never change.”

  Can you help me free them from their curse? Huxian asked.

  “I cannot,” Li said, shaking her head. “If you are needing nothing else, I will continue my duties.” She continued sweeping, and Huxian observed as she did so for an entire day, never stopping. He observed the other monks as they worked and meditated, taught children, and learned. Mentors taught their students and junior monks consulted with their masters.

  Huxian continued observing, and by the third day, he finally noticed his shadow had gone missing. There was no sun in the sky, despite the light. The monks didn’t cast shadows either. Yet unlike the city of ghosts, the monks did seem to change. As time passed, they shifted between roles. Ao began sweeping, and Li went to meditate. Teachers finished teaching children and returned to their chambers, where they recited mantras.

  As he observed, everything seemed to blur together. One action led to another, and the children began to grow before his very eyes. Older monks went about their daily lives, growing older and older, until finally, some either transcended or died of old age in meditation. This all happened very quickly, almost impossibly so.

  Those who’d started as children soon became full monks, but no children came to replace the old. Unperturbed by this, almost expecting it, these full monks continued their meditation, and one by one, they died off or transcended. Finally, no one remained.

  What the hell just happened? Huxian thought. He felt as though he’d experienced five hundred years in only a few hours. It was madness, pure madness. He walked around, looking over the buildings the monks had left behind. They were well-maintained and clean, just like the monks had left them. Simple statues of the Buddha could be seen everywhere, and inside each dwelling sat a rosary, abandoned by the monks as they died, their bodies transformed into motes of light as they rejoined the cycle of reincarnation.

  All was quiet. And with this quiet came great exhaustion. Huxian’s eyes began to droop. He tried to keep them open, to see just a little more of the curious vision, but it proved too much for him, so he closed his eyes and slept.

  He woke to familiar words: “Greetings, Benefactor.”

  Greetings, Benefactor. He let those words wash over him, and the monk eventually lost interest as Huxian ignored him. The monk sat down in meditation, the same as he always did.

  Huxian tried avoiding the sweeper, but the sweeper still found him and found a way to introduce herself. He could only sigh and let it wash over him. Was it the hundredth time he’d seen the vision? The hundred and eighth? He didn’t feel any older, despite having lived through many of these lifetimes. It wasn’t for lack of trying, either. After the second repeat vision, Huxian had decided he’d had enough. He’d tried to walk away from the plateau, but to his surprise, he couldn’t leave. When he’d tried walking outside the shadow boundary, he’d found himself reentering it. He’d given up after several dozen tries.

  Something was happening, a mystery he needed to solve. Just like the ghostly city, the plateau was home to a large temple, the same temple the monks visited every day. Huxian had gone there many times as well. Unlike the gaudy golden statues of a fat man he saw in his inherited memories, these statues were simple. From what he knew, they were also more accurate renditions of the Buddha.

  These Buddhists were different from those ghosts that had clung to eternal life and tried to chain the sun. They spent every waking hour trying to shed their karma, yet here they were, living out their entire lives over and over. What kept them here? Regret? Had they been cursed for failing to avert the disaster? He’d tried asking, but naturally, no one paid attention to the ravings of a mad demon.

  So he watched. Huxian watched a half dozen more times, and every time, he saw it less like a real occurrence and more like a memory. A shadow of what had once been.

  A shadow? he thought one day. It had been a long time since he’d seen his own shadow. He, like every monk, was also reliving his life. Does my shadow have anything to do with this? No one here had shadows. The sun was obscured, despite its presence in the east. The setting sun was invisible here, in the shadow of the mountain. That wrong shadow that gave him chills every time he remembered it.

  If this side has a shadow, what of the other side? he suddenly thought. He’d never tried going to the other side of the mountain. He’d found no need, and the visions passed so quickly, tiring him out. Besides, he’d been preoccupied with escaping the mountain and heading toward the city. Was this the wrong approach to take?

  Curious, Huxian trotted west again. He passed the temple with the simple statue of the Buddha and headed behind it. There was no shadow where there should have been, of course. He’d been back here many times. He didn’t linger but passed the temple and went to the back of the plateau, where, for the first time, he saw a set of steps leading downward. He trotted down the wide steps, his careful paws feeling dust for the first time.

  The steps hadn’t been swept.

  He continued down them and was surprised to see something he hadn’t in a long time: darkness. It clung close to the back of the mountain, like a child holding on to its mother for dear life. Despite its large size, only nine feet of shadow remained at the base. And within those shadows, Huxian saw something he’d missed before. Another monk, one wreathed in darkness.

  Huxian went down the steps and entered the shadowy region, and to his surprise, he felt a sense of warmth course through him. He looked down and saw that his shadow, which had been absent for so long, had returned to him. His eyes glowed, and the deeper he went, the more shadows he saw, jumbled and clustered together. He saw Ao’s shadow, Li’s shadow. He saw the children’s shadows and the temple’s shadow. Even the broom’s shadow rested here, hiding from the half-hidden sun Huxian knew existed beyond the mountain.

  “The monks laughed at the city’s proposal,” an old man’s voice said. “Most of them thought tethering the sun was outrageous. It was an impossible feat, they said. What’s more, they wanted nothing to do with the enormous karma that would be sown. The city, they said, could do what it wanted, but they would have to live with the result. They didn’t try to stop the city, and by the time the curse affected it, it was already too late to save them.”

  The city? Huxian asked. The voice came not from a shadow, but from a cross-legged body within it. The body was dry, decrepit, and empty of life.

  “Not the city,” the old man said, chuckling without moving his lips, without breathing. “The monks themselves.

  “They erred on two parts. The first part was their obsession resolving personal karma. Instead of taking on the sin of the city and trying to free the sun, they let them do as they pleased.

  “Their second mistake was believing the curse wouldn’t affect them in the first place. When the city was cursed, their thoughts and beliefs persisted. They’d escaped the city’s fate, but many were remorseful about it. Yet how could they free an entire city of ghosts? This initial reluctance, combined with the impossibility of the task, led them to ignore the outside world. They never realized that, just like the city persisted eternally, their minds would as well. They could live out their entire life apart from the city, ignoring it, but the shadows remembered them. They would relive their life endlessly, for all eternity.”

  And what of you? Huxian asked. Do you relive your life every day as well?

  “I did, at first,” the old man said. “Unlike them, however, I had spoken out against their non-interference. I’d traveled to the city and tried to convince their head priest to abandon
this madness. I left something there to give them hope.

  “It seemed this difference was enough for me to realize something was wrong. I continued to keep my awareness through repeated lifetimes. Unfortunately, the experience wore on my soul. I knew I didn’t have much time left, so I searched for a way out.

  “Finally, after much trial and error, I found myself here, among the shadows. My life stopped repeating, but by then, I was too weak to move. I could only wait for someone else to share my experience with.”

  Huxian gulped. “That thing, to give them hope,” he said, “was it the Candle Dragon’s tear? Was it that jade character, Spirit?”

  The man fell silent for a moment before speaking.

  “Yes, I see it now,” the man said. “You’ve acquired the character.” He laughed the dry laugh of a dying man. “After all these years, someone has come with the character.”

  “Then how do I resolve this? How do I free the city?” Huxian asked.

  “I once obtained two of three pieces of a tablet when I was wandering in my youth,” the monk said. “After obtaining them, I journeyed to the west for many years, preaching the Buddhist way. My followers became numerous, though many evil spirits tried consuming me. Two pieces were not enough to reverse the curse, but perhaps with the third piece, it would be possible to break it.”

  “What must I do?” Huxian asked.

  The man didn’t answer. Instead, a small golden light appeared on the speaking corpse. It turned into a soft golden mist that congealed into a single golden character that said Scripture. The character shot into Huxian’s forehead, and the moment it did, the mountain changed. He no longer saw the pool of writhing shadows as something coincidentally there. It was a prison, with chains extending outward toward the monks, tethering them to their reality. They hadn’t stopped the sun from being chained, and thus, the shadow of their regret had chained them to this plane. They would relive their life every day without end.