章 6: Grandfather (part 2)
The adult drifts towards a place lit with many mystical blue lights. In the void, everything is pitch black. But this particular place is midnight blue. It's beautiful. The whole place is subtly glowing, as though it's a garden suffused with starlight. But Vajradandaka couldn't exactly define what kind of garden it is. He could only infer so much from what he sees. When he doesn't know what he's seeing, his brain couldn't describe the scene. It partially revokes the idea that this is reality. The adult is sitting now, but Vajradandaka's brain could no longer even describe him. But he does feel the graceful ease of those long limbs, that mellow aura and the warmth of the being's smile. When this being looks at the observer now, it's as though he's looking straight at the little prince. It makes Vajradandaka uneasy every time as he remembers till here. With the reality becoming so much more vague, that being looking at him is like he's looking at Vajradandaka's naked soul. He feels exposed, as if a light breeze could blow him away. He realizes that that soft aura and gentle smile were actually a gentle threat telling him to leave. This is the reason why that adult who lives in the void brought the observer into this garden where stars are flowers. When its unrealness shakes Vajradandaka, his sync with the observer is disturbed and he's exposed. Indeed, many times Vajradandaka forcefully ends the memory here.
But sometimes, like now, riding horseback through the mountain filled with dry weeds, he continues.
With his chin resting on his knuckles amusedly, the adult says to the observer, "Choosing whichever baby would be alright. But for you to acquire the right fate, your reason for choosing must be airtight," he said, his manner gentle. "You said the crying baby has more self-awareness, that it already knows at that age the consequences of falling, so it must be clever. Hmm…how observant of you. But if you look at the two scenarios from the perspective of fate, perhaps the man holding the crying baby did not induce any sense of trust in it, did not give it the feeling of security! And what does that mean? Assuming the two broad chested men who were holding the babies were their fathers, it could be inferred that the laughing baby's father was stable, capable and responsible. So the baby felt secure enough to laugh even when thrown into the air in such a helpless state. It only lacks self-awareness because it was cocooned in this secure feeling it got from a steady mountain of a father. On the other hand, the crying baby must only depend on its own self-awareness to cry and throw a tantrum in order to protect itself and get away from the man who did not let feel any sense of security. To put it simply, the crying baby has a comparatively bad father figure raising it. A father is someone responsible for providing and protecting. If he's bad at either of the jobs, it is obvious that the crying baby has a fate worse off than the laughing baby. At least in the initial stages of its life."
There was a slight blur and a movement and the adult was already in front of the observer. His aura changed to intent and overbearing. Even though it still felt guiding and protective, like a father's, there was now a faint mocking feeling to his tone as he asked, "Now what would you choose?"
Every time the memory comes to here, Vajradandaka feels stifled. For he knew the faint mocking intent was directed not at the observer who was actually present there, but at him! That mystical being knew he was there! And he seems to be mocking…the choice. The choice which was alive!
"I choose the crying baby!" Prince Vajradandaka yelled and kicked his horse harshly, feeling helpless over the observer's indecisiveness.
The memory never exceeded this point in his recollections. He doesn't actually know what choice that observer made, whether he chose the laughing baby or the crying baby. But knowing that his life started from there, he indeed cursed his own indecisiveness. What does it matter what the grey-blue adult said? You chose the crying baby, so you better stick to your choice!
But he probably hadn't…which is why the adult was mocking the existence that came to be. And that existence was Vajradandaka.
He overtook his platoon angrily, cursing his Uncle Jeh for some reason. Only the few scouts who went ahead of everyone were in front of him now.
In the end, he even worried about the crying baby who was the one that was perhaps not chosen. Even if he was chosen, it was still the wrong choice because the logic that the mystical being gave was airtight as well!
Regardless, knowing there was a human being coexisting with him in this vast universe, but was not chosen to be him, Vajradandaka felt uneasy from time to time. Indeed, the existential questions that stem from this phenomenon were actually the source of the 'divine wisdom' he's so famous for!
That was me, originally. That was my life. Who lives it now? How does he live it? They say soul is indivisible, so he definitely does not have a portion of mine…Which means, he is an existence without a soul?
But certainly, he is powerful? He's definitely not stupid, is he? Otherwise, it's such a shame. He'll just end up embarrassing me.
Vajradandaka asked his grandfather, the old regent of the country several times, 'Grandfather, can you choose who you want to be in this life before you were born?'
His grandfather would mostly laugh it away as a child's whimsical fancies. But sometimes, he would adapt a serious frown and think about it. 'The gods who decide our fates bless humankind in various different ways…' he would say in his old, husky baritone. 'It isn't impossible with a god's blessing to choose one's fate before the soul is born into a fleshly vessel.'
So what happens to the vessel that is not filled in the end…?
It certainly didn't die. I saw it with my own eyes. It shrieked and bawled with rather powerful lungs! It even had sentience. I could feel that…How couldn't I?
That almost was I…
What about the mystical adult? In the end, was he…a god?
Vajradandaka couldn't help but knit his eyebrows severely until his anger cooled off and his horse slowed down to a trot. Even though he was just eight, his skill in riding a horse was second only to his big brother Vajradhaara. The little prince didn't have much patience for the sword or other martial skills, but he really did like to practice riding. He felt that riding allowed his thoughts to flow freely like the wind. And when they need to slow down, like presently, he would let the horse take the lead and slow down first.
In the memory, the mystical adult didn't feel anything like a god. The observer who was Vajradandaka at the same time shared some form of kinship with the man, and the little prince never thought himself anything more than an earthly human. The mystical being didn't feel as powerful, all-encompassing or ever-knowing as a god was supposed to be. He was more like a gentle guide.
"Perhaps he was a gandharva of heaven," Vajradandaka murmured to himself, but he was little convinced by his own supposition. Only the feeling of grace and beauty that the man gave off made Vajradandaka think of the gandharvas in mystical lore.
Will I ever meet him again?
クリエイターの想い 
sneha
sneha Hey guys...this chapter and the last, they are just thematic in nature. They're not very relevant to the plot. For now, I haven't decided to expand on the elements mentioned in them. So I'm just posting both chapters at the same time.
From tomorrow, we'll do one at a time.
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