Wayfarers On The Foothills Of Wisdom

Six months had passed since Korou's preliminary education in the Pakhangba Monastery. And he was already done with the modules pertaining to the courses of the first year and those of the second and third. Anything beyond that was locked in the second level of the Sanctorum. Only those in their third year and beyond were allowed to enter.

His friends, or, like Iromi insinuated, acquaintances, were also by his side. The lazy yet sharp Ibo was done with the second year modules. Despite his randomness and a goldfish focus, he surprised not only Korou but even his sister with his mathematics proficiency. Ibo was done with all three modules. Iromi, on the other hand, was a fast learner, and her distaste towards Korou's conduct made her read through modules year one to three in tandem with him.

"You spite me that much?" Korou asked, partly impressed, partly scared for his life.

"Why? No." Iromi slammed the book shut, her gaze shifting towards him with bewilderment. "I...I just err..."

"She is obsessed with you." Ibo snickered, his finger weaving numbers in the air.

"Ibo!" Iromi shot him a glare.

"Oh, so you are a fan." Korou shot her a toothy beam, his lips upturned.

"I am not!" She leaned over the yum table, grabbing onto his shoulder. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I am only doing this so that we can study together."

"I see..." Korou croaked. Meanwhile, Ibo grinned from below; he was counting the table's dimensions.

With the academics sorted, Korou lacked only in martial arts, which was vastly due to his distaste towards physical activities. Still, he had barely kept up.

Half-yearly examinations were a joke. The questions were all rudimentary, even a donkey conditioned to the likes of rote learning would have solved them. Korou aced them, arrogantly announcing that he could have done so with his left hand. That got him a good giggle and a humiliating blush. Out of spite, he attempted the maths exam with his right arm tied. He aced that, too.

The only exam, by virtue of his behaviour, that pushed him into a corner was Athongba Leina's study in Morals and Customs. It wasn't a written examination, but a Viva. Students were called in order of their name, and each was asked a question pertaining to Athongba's musings in class. Some were subjective, others factual, but in holisticity, they were her reality. They were just reinforcing it.

"When you hear the term friends," Athongba Leina rapped her fingers over the low desk. Her lips pursed in a scowl. "What is it that you derive?"

"Comrades for life." Korou blurted out. It was abstract. And Leina, she was the queen of abstractness. How was he supposed to answer? Say what? Iromi and Ibo? They weren't even friends, or were they? What are friends to begin with?

"What's that?" She countered.

"Err...someone...who you will sacrifice your life for." He quoted a novel from his previous life.

"Parents do the same for their children; how is it different from friendship?"

After that, their back and forth went on for the entire day. It wasn't until headpriestess Naobi intervened personally that the session ended. In the end, she had given him barely passing marks with the remark: In dire need to learn how to respect his elders.

Though his favourite despite the level was classics. It had a single reading, a folk tale, a love story between a goddess and a human, corrupted by the mother's envy. It was a study in morals, a lesson in humility and gratitude. All that ended in the arms of a tragedy. The Goddess, ousted by the husband's mother, roamed the land. Starving, she had begged the beasts around Lamphi, a request, guidance to the peaks of Meru. Entrance to heaven. But the beasts denied assistance. The Goddess wept for nine months, a cry for help that remained unheard. Finally, in an agonising slip, she fell; the depths of Ennoa accepted her in an embrace. Closing her eyes, she cursed the beasts; never would they enjoy rice indeed.

The name of the Goddess was Phouoibi, the bringer of rice to the land of Lamphi.

In his review, Korou credited the tale as an informative guide to the flora and fauna around Lamphi.

With their term already at the mid-point, the Athongbas finally started mentioning the Demiurges. Obscure as these creatures were, their mentions were endless. Brimming as the villain in every folk tale, Korou could understand their position in the world. Even so, the abstruseness of their existence remained. There was no substantiality. Their existence a fiction.

During their routine readings by the meadows of Mandala garden, Korou had rolled over and peeked from behind his rusted binder. "Your dream is to purge Demiurges?"

"Yes..." Iromi drawled skeptically.

"Then please explain, what are they? I have been dying to find out."

Iromi paused, her eyes squinting as if it were sizing up a worm.

"Natural enemies of humanity." She exhaled.

"I already know that." Korou cried. "What I want to know is biology? What do they look like? Their habits? Anything substantial."

"What difference would that make?" Iromi slammed the book shut. " They are enemies of the natural order, our world and humanity. Isn't that enough?"

"No, it's not!" Korou groaned. He felt like a broken record at this point. No matter whom he queried, they all concluded under the same abstractness: Natural enemies 101, if we don't kill them, they will kill us. All of that was fine; he got that. Every story needed a villain, but why, and how? That's all he wanted to know.

"How can you call them your enemy and not know about them?"

"There's categorisation, though," Ibo added, his arms swaying while he frolicked around them in an attempt to catch the cyan trails.

"See, we are finally getting somewhere." Korou clapped.

"There's only two." Iromi sighed and placed the book to her side. "Greater and lesser."

"What's the basis of it?!" Korou grinned and leaned forward eagerly.

"Umm..." Iromi pursed her lips. He was too close.

"Less bad, more bad," Ibo mumbled, now tossing over the grassy meadow, his chuba stained in fresh soil.

"Surely it's not that simple." Korou moved away from her.

"It is, though," Iromi replied, catching her breath.

"Oh come on!"

Shamanism, despite being the village trade, remained a distant dream. Though magic, at least the ones that harboured necessity, were taught in the martial arts class.

For Korou's year, there were only two incantations. One to amplify agility and the other to augment muscular strength. Both were divided into two modules taught over the year.

"Close your eyes and visualise a gust of wind." Atla had commanded.

"I am speed. I am lightning." Korou recited. "I am McQue-"

Atla smacked him for that.

It took him over a month to get his u's right for the incantation, and when the moment of success arrived, it was rather anticlimactic.

His eyes were shut, elbows bent as he visualised the muscles in his limbs slowly reinforcing each other. A rush of blood, with a trickle of pain in his feet, made him scowl, but soon it subsided. With a bent knee, he launched ahead.

The world around him was a blur as he scaled the training ground in a second.

"So when are you teaching me the cool stuff?" Korou later asked. He was brimming with enthusiasm.

"Cool stuff?"

"Flying!" Korou bounced, waving his arms. "Naobi did that when slaying the Asamahi."

"Oh, that." Atla trailed off, her fingers tracing her blade's edge. "It is exclusive to Zaüber graduates."

"Zaüber?" Korou scratched his temples. This was the first time he had heard this term. "What's that?"

"A university." She whispered yearningly. "Best in the world. Renowned for its research in the field of Magecraft, among other disciplines."

"It's in Ukiya?"

"Tetounia Province," She sheathed her blade. The orange hue bounced off it, casting shadows over her face. "Central Ukiya, in the city of cobbled and scholarly. I want to join there."

"I thought you wanted to be a warrior."

"That too...but Zaüber's a dream." Atla smiled ruefully, gesturing him to start walking. It was time to go home.

The classes were off that week. The monastery faculty was busy with the practical evaluation of third-year students. A joint examination with the six silais—clans—was underway. The entire campus was vacant, except for the caretakers and Athongba Yaiphabi, who kept checking on only three students in the sanctorum.

"We need to do something," Korou whispered from behind the Erum shelf. "If this continues, we would spend three years studying what we already know."

"But this isn't ethical, Korou," Iromi muttered, her head hidden behind the golden scroll. "I can't allow it."

"Cheche, but Korou does have a point." Ibo rolled over the stone floor, staining his chuba in dark dust.

"You shut up," She bellowed in a hushed tone. "And why are you down there? You are getting the uniform dirty."

"It's camouflage." Ibo grinned. "Give me enough time and I'll become invisible."

"No, you won't." Iroma tried to hold his wrist, but he wiggled and slipped past.

"Technique of the serpent." Ibo gave a muffled laugh. "The art of stealth, you will never catch me."

"I am more impressed by your expanded vocabulary." He whispered in awe. "You have been working on it."

"Nah," Ibo rolled again, this time towards Korou. "Just heard Baba discuss strategy with big bro Laishram, he has his big exam today."

"Ah, the joint examination." Korou nodded.

He wanted to be there too, in the forest past the village border. Even his father offered to take him. But Atla was adamant; she didn't want her unconsensual apprentice to watch her stellar display. She had even threatened to spread the story of him peeing his bed a year ago. In his defence, it was a momentary lapse in motor control and nightmares.

"Anyways, we are not doing it." Iromi slammed the book closed. "And it's final."

"Never say never, Cheche." Ibo offered. "Come on, Korou, convince her I want to break into the forbidden section too."

"It's called restricted." Iromi corrected.

"Forbidden sounded cool." Ibo stuck out his tongue.

"Iromi," Korou gently grabbed her by the shoulder, his blue gaze into her amber. "Hear me out."

Iromi's lips trembled, cheeks flushed, and smoke drooled from her ears. In a shaky voice, she replied: "S..sure...?"

"There are times in a man's life when he must make the inevitable choice." In a forced dramatic poignance, Korou raised his fisted arms. "And today is such a day. We, the scholars who stand on the foothills of boundless knowledge, must decide. To be or not to be."

"I didn't understand a thing, but that was cool, Korou." Ibo tapped the floor mimicking a fellowship clap.

"Don't hype him up." Iromi snapped. "And again, we are not doing it. At least not under my watch."