Red Star ... Falls: Seeking Wisdom
"Paah."
Not far from the Tsugaru Straight, above the Hokkaido shore, hung a spire of rock. It jutted from the foothills hundreds of meters below to tower menacingly over the area.
"Paaaahh...."
Years upon years ago, when Hokkaido was still largely a mystery to the Japanese, and it was merely a final resort that the Ainu had been driven to, the spire was thought to be the eye of a spiteful kami. As Hokkaido was slowly developed, this belief was slowly overcome, with Shinto priests going so far as to build a monastery atop the spire.
"Paaaaaaaahhh!"
Now it was home to few, save those aesthetics and seekers of wisdom who valued solitude. Not many visited, for the ways were treacherous -- narrow switchbacks with false leads, frayed and poorly maintained rope bridges, and high winds that swept directly across most of the ascent.
"Paaaaaaaaaahhhh!"
On this particular day, however, a pilgrim was approaching. He'd gone beyond the sheer cliffs that would have turned back most, or else crossed a mind-bendingly sharp ridge straight up the mountain in a high wind. As it was, he laboriously hauled himself up the last handhold before he reached the abrupt mesa where the temple sat.
"Pwwwwaaaaaaauuuugh!" he wheezed, levering himself up and collapsing flat on the grass. He spent a moment just catching his breath before he looked up, adjusting his spectacles. He was on one edge of a sizable yard. Not far away, a goat was eyeing him warily, chewing a clump of stringy mountain weeds. Beyond that was a low cluster of simple buildings, all within three crumbling walls that towered overhead, directly atop the cliffs that fell away beyond.
"Huh," he mused, hopping to his feet. The goat scampered away, showing that it had no lead or leash. No fences were in sight, either. Upon closer inspection, the walls were older than he had first thought. Plants had grown between many of the old stones, and the buildings all seemed to be of much more recent construction.
"Maybe a fire," he thought aloud, wondering if he'd missed something of the temple's history. Not that it mattered, he decided at the moment. What did matter was that he'd made it. And since he'd made it, he needed to speak with the so-called 'Taoist prophet'. The man who could divine any future.
Winded from the climb, he strolled leisurely towards the first of the homes, his hands trembling with excitement.
The doorway was open -- not even a curtain hung to seal if off, and the room was instantly darker inside. He stumbled to a halt and looked up nervously, unnerved to see pinpricks of light in the dark thatch. Pinpricks that looked like stars, and seemed to move slowly. A trick of the sun, he assured himself, turning his attention forward.
The room was almost empty, except for a dias in the center. Upon the dias was a large cushion, and a weathered, ancient old man in the most threadbare monk's garb the climber had ever seen. The ancient being cracked one eye open and said, "I am who you seek."
His voice resonated with the years he bore, shaking and almost indecipherable. "I will look to the future and tell you what I see. What is your question?"
"Whew," the climber said, instead of answering. He dropped his pack to the floor, groaning at the release of the burden after the climb. "It's quite a trek to get here," he said. "Okay, wise Taoist. I know there's only one shot at this, so...."
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(Posted Fri, 13 Apr 2007 03:24)
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