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endbook rogue 5 4 4
The megastructure on the dark side of Terra let out a wail. None had expected the first omen of ruination to be so low, so deep, an unstoppable shaking that could be felt everywhere. Rumors spread, and the entire land turned to panic. Now, atop a vast river, a lone raft carrying three sails away from the crowd, towards the horizon. Two of the three are drinking together, with a most peaceful and quiet atmosphere.
'A nice argument, but your logic is flawed.' The peculiar-looking artisan keeps shaking his head. 'According to you, those who know themselves do not understand, but rather can never know freedom.'
The plain-dressed elder across from him is rather interested in this debate, taking his time with his reply as he takes them on a different tack: 'I have a story, one that is quite relevant. Several years ago, before the land had become a complete mess, I was traveling the far southern seas, where I saw a musbeast as big as a man's palm...'
The artisan rudely interrupts him: 'Your story's the same as your argument, Brother Hou. I've been listening for thousands of years now, and I figured out the rules long ago. You're thinking of saying 'The heart is large, perhaps larger than the ocean is deep', aren't you? You should know when to stop deluding yourself.'
The elder does not mind the offense, instead laughing at how his slow wit stubbornly refuses to change. He turns toward the third occupant of the bamboo raft. He does not partake in the drinks, nor does he join them in debate. He simply looks toward where they came from in silence. Here, with the shore long out of sight, naturally he will no longer have to see the panic-stricken eyes of those trying to put on brave faces, the conflict at all hours of the day as the end neared, or the clamor that gives him a headache.
'What say you, Wang? Where has your unfettered freedom gone this time?' The elder kindly passes him a cup of wine. Wang accepts it, then places it back down onto the raft: 'It is a habit of mine to not drink while I do things.'
'I had no idea you were such a stickler for law and order.'
'Just watch, Wang. Brother Hou's about to point at that cup and tell you it's got no wine in it—that you must not be bound by such distinctions.'
The three men on the raft give each other knowing smiles.
Law and order bind only the body. If the heart wishes to be unfettered and free, it cannot be shackled by worldly things,' says Wang.
In this life, people come and go. Old matters left unfulfilled are mixed with new bindings, inevitably tangling together like strands of silk.
This particular thought is of no need to speak out loud. He merely turns to the plain-dressed elder: 'As for you, if you truly have this freedom you speak of, why would you appear here?'
The two ponder the meaning of Wang's words, and find a new point of view within. They return to their debate with renewed vigor, heedless of the darkening skies above their heads or the strengthening waves around them.
Their jar of wine, stamped with the emblem of Yan's army, is near-empty. An ancient custom of the army is to see off advance teams. In these trying times, Feranmuts and the humans of Yan turned from foe to friend, standing together on the front lines against the end. The wine symbolizing trust and valor, too, was shared with them. The main armies maintain their distance from them, awaiting their signal.
As the raft approaches the end of the great river, their chatter and laughter are drowned out by a clamorous noise on occasion: not just the sounds of the river's flow, but also the sound of countless joints bending, countless limbs slamming against the ground as they march, and countless humans bellowing out as they give their all in battle. Their raft has finally drifted to their destination. Beyond the land known as 'Terra', within the boundless abyss of its dark side, the enemies from beyond the sky are about to break through humanity's greatest defensive line and invade the known world. The sky is shrouded, with not a single ray of light allowed through. More enemies are gathering at the other end of the megastructure humanity once used to move to and fro between the land and the Shadow-Moon, so that they may descend on Terra.
The flags of many nations were torn apart in the attack. The corpses of their soldiers are strewn together across the battlefield. The river shakes violently from tremors in the ground, as the bamboo raft gently berths.
'Think carefully, Hou. If you step into this battle, you shall never have the freedom you desire.'
'If one walks alone with the pure spirit of heaven and earth, how can one be limited by life and death?' Wang answers on behalf of the plain-dressed elder. The elder looks up to the sky and laughs, and with his two companions, they move themselves towards the battlefield.
