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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 19, 2013 10:34:23 GMT
One day Vael heard a speech between two people in a town fair, so she decided to write a story about it.
The poor philosopher was eating bread and lentils for supper.
He was seen by the rich philosopher, who lived comfortably by flattering the king. Said the rich philosopher, “If you would learn to be subservient to the king you would not have to live on lentils.”
Said the poor philosopher, “Learn to live on lentils and you will not have to be subservient to the king.”
Vael decided to add a few lines that came to mind.
The rich philosopher added: "Yes, but if you do not work, how can you make money?"
And the poor philosopher answered: "If i give you money, will you be able to give me life?"
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 19, 2013 23:57:04 GMT
Another story came to mind when Vael was thinking how would she be when she will become enlightened. Would she look like the high priestess?
On the question of his own Enlightenment, the teacher always remained reticent, even though the disciples tried every means to get him to talk.
All the information they had on this subject was what the Master once said to his youngest son who wanted to know what his father felt when he became Enlightened.
The answer was: “A fool.”
When the boy asked why, the teacher had replied, “Well, son, it was like going to great pains to break into a house by climbing a ladder and smashing a window and then realizing later that the door of the house was open.”
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 3:42:15 GMT
For a few weeks Vael was seeing nightmares in her sleep. After the second day that nightmares haunted her dreams she decided to ask the high priestess for guidance. The high priestess shared a parable with her which she then wrote down to her trusty book.
Once a teacher was walking from one town to another town with a few of his followers. This was in the initial days. While they were traveling, they happened to pass a lake. They stopped there and the teacher told one of his disciples, “I am thirsty. Do get me some water from that lake there.”
The disciple walked up to the lake. When he reached it, he noticed that right at that moment, a bullock cart started crossing through the lake. As a result, the water became very muddy, very turbid. The disciple thought, “How can I give this muddy water to the teacher to drink!”
So he came back and told the teacher, “The water in there is very muddy. I don’t think it is fit to drink.” After about half an hour, again the teacher asked the same disciple to go back to the lake and get him some water to drink. The disciple obediently went back to the lake.
This time too he found that the lake was muddy. He returned and informed the teacher about the same. After sometime, again the teacher asked the same disciple to go back. The disciple reached the lake to find the lake absolutely clean and clear with pure water in it. The mud had settled down and the water above it looked fit to be had. So he collected some water in a pot and brought it to the teacher.
The teacher looked at the water, and then he looked up at the disciple and said, “See what you did to make the water clean. You let it be…. and the mud settled down on its own – and you got clear water. Your mind is also like that! When it is disturbed, just let it be. Give it a little time. It will settle down on its own. You don’t have to put in any effort to calm it down. It will happen. It is effortless.”
The nightmares kept on for a few days but eventually got away.
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 3:50:23 GMT
Months have passed and Iel begun visiting Vael much more. So much that, for a few weeks he didn't even go back to his monastery.
One of these weeks Vael went for a walk in the forest nearby. She stumbled across a bedroll behind a bush. Examining it further seemed like it belonged to Iel.
“You have hardened,” said the flower, bending her petals downward toward the half stone at her roots. “These rains should have softened you, made you more fertile and receptive to the seeds of the fields; but no. You have accumulated minerals and have become more silent and full of calcium. Why do you stay here? Why do you resist the brook that gives us water?”
The stone said nothing.
A number of clouds passed by, the sun set and the night arrived with an immense bronze-colored freckled moon with acne scars upon her worn face and in this manner reflected down upon the silent stone which still had not fallen asleep. The flower, by now, had tucked-in her petals and slept profoundly, and at this time the stone began to answer:
“I stay here because your roots have made me yours. I stay here because it is no longer about my feeling the earth rather because I have become part of that which functions as a support of your stem which resists the wind and the rain. Everything changes, my sweet flower,” said the stone, “but I stay here because love is that microscopic space between your feet and my salted skin. You would only be able to feel it if destiny were ever to separate the two of us.”
The moon followed the fade of the stars. Dawn gave a yawn as the sun began to burn its horizon on the lower lip of the mouth of a new day. The flower awoke and extended her beautiful petals. “Good morning,” she said, “I dreamed that you were singing to me. How foolish of me, don’t you think?”
The stone said nothing.
After questioning him she found out that Iel was exiled by his monasterh because warmth has filled his heart and clouded his judgement. Iel confessed his love to Vael and they got married a few days later, now living together in one of the houses near the church.
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 3:59:27 GMT
Many years passed before Vael wrote again in the book. She and Iel had two beatiful daughters and one son. But a tragic fate came to most of them. One day Iel decided to take their son to where he trained as a monk most of the years of his life.
They never returned. And Vael awaited their return for three days and three nights without sleeping. After that time the paladin Alothin Trailblaze came to the church bearing grave news. Iel and the boy were dead, attacked by wild evil beasts.
Iel felt as if there was no meaning to breath anymore. For several days she stayed closed at the church, attending only her chores and helping thos in need. After those days, and seeing how depressed she was, Alothin offered to be her guardian, since he was too old to travel anymore and was more of a weight than actual help to his comrades.
Vael accepted and felt like the Light was in her life again. She tried to meditate to get over it and, doing so, remembered what Iel once taught her about meditation.
A young student at a monastery comes to his master and throws himself at his feet, sobbing. The teacher lifts him up gently, and asks him, “What is troubling you, my son?” “O master,” the student falters, “I am so discouraged. My meditation is a nightmare—my mind is always running after worldly thoughts, my legs ache, I’m constantly falling asleep… I cannot concentrate on anything for even a breath. I think that I am just not cut out for meditation.”
The master pats his head and comforts him “Do not worry, my child. This is only a stage. It will pass, it will pass.” The student heaves a big sigh, bows to his master, and goes back to the meditation hall.
A few days later, he comes running to his master, grinning from ear to ear. “O master, by your grace, my meditation is completely transformed now! I’m getting so much joy, so much peace, so much depth…” The master responds calmly, “Do not worry, my son. It will pass.”
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 4:07:10 GMT
Vael eventually married the paladin, Alothin, and had two sons with him. She tried to forget Iel's death and focused on his life.
Like he would say through a story:
A valiant knight lived a pious life, trying to drive evil away. He was killed with most of his comrades trying to defend a small village against an army or 10 against 1.
One of his squires managed to return to the city, in which the knight lived, and found his only family, a younger brother who was a priest of Iomedae.
After resting at the church, the squire told to the priest:
"Forgive me for not being able to save your brother. He fought valiantly. Do you wish to hear how he died?"
And the response from the priest shocked the squire:
"No. But i wish to hear how he lived."
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 19:37:01 GMT
Some of the travelers bore gifts for the church. One of them was a painting that looked like it had a story behind it, so Vael asked about it and this is what she wrote down in her book.
Perfect peace? I asked for perfect peace and what do I get? A picture of a storm!? Nonsense. What was the artist thinking of…” The king felt a storm of anger rising within his belly the effrontery of one of his subjects to disobey him so openly. To cool his temper, he looked at the next painting.
“Now this painting here, that’s what I call peaceful. A calm lake, some beautiful mountains reflected in it. Oh and that magnificent sky, with just a touch of puffy little clouds. What artistry, what serenity, what…”
The king moved on to the next painting in his huge exhibition gallery. All the best artists of his kingdom and abroad had entered his competition to depict “perfect peace” and win the coveted position of Royal Court Painter.
Gazing at a serene pastoral painting, the king found himself thinking again “This is indeed a peaceful scene, but somehow it doesn’t help me feel peaceful.” His mind returned to pondering the picture of the storm. Had he missed something, or was the artist a practical joker? He walked back to that first painting to have another look.
Lightning flashed on the bare crags of the mountains, knifing into a dark and furious sky. Foaming waters gashed the dark gullies as they thundered into the flooding river. The king found his gaze following the line of the largest torrent from its source downwards.
He peered closely at the painting.
A smile spread across his face.
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 19:45:30 GMT
Vael raised her children, the oldest of whom was Nikela, An-Ei's mother. Vael taught them all she could. Nikela folowed the path of her mother, writing parables in the book, which has passed on to her by Vael, since Vael has slowly grew old. The first story that Nikela added to the book was one her mother told her before she passed on the book.
Once upon a time a man couldn’t find his ax. He suspected his neighbor’s son because the boy walked like a thief, looked like a thief, and spoke like a thief.
The following morning the man found his ax when he remembered where he left it. The next time he saw his neighbor’s son, the boy walked, looked, and spoke like any other child.
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 19:51:48 GMT
One of the first stories Nikela wrote were of a faraway place for which a traveling merchant spoke to her.
The old teacher lived in utter simplicity in his mountain monastery with a few disciples. One night, a young monk feels a new sensation in his meditation. Something warm, pulsating, loving… and… furry? He looked down onto a cat. The tail flicked against his face again. The cat turned and rubbed his head on his knee, purring loudly. Gently pushing it away, the monk settled back into his meditation. Unruffled, the cat wound himself around the next disciple, to be again pushed away.
No matter how many doors and windows they closed, the cat always found its way into the meditation room. After a month of this feline audacity, the disciples had enough. They put a nice embroidered collar on him and attached it with a long lead to a pillar in the temple. They gave him a silk pillow, and every day they would feed him, stroke him, and play with him. The cat was very content with his new arrangement
A few years later, the old teacher died. A young teacher from a different area was installed, and life resumed its peaceful rhythm. The new teacher did notice that a black cat was always tied to the northern pillar of the great temple, surrounded by choice offerings and sitting on an ornate silk pillow. Not wanting to look ignorant, he did not ask anyone about its presence, and assumed that it was a tradition of the monastery.
When the cat died, the teacher ordered another black cat to be found to take its place, and installed with full honor.
Over time, all the disciples who had known why the first cat was tied to the pillar died. The successive generations of monks gradually forgot the utilitarian purpose of tying the cat to the pillar. Yet the tradition lived on and flourished for centuries. The original collar was reverently worshipped as a relic. Books of theological commentaries were written on the spiritual significance of tying a black cat to the northern pillar. Legends of miraculous healings due to the intercession of the holy cat were compiled and studied devotedly. Trinkets and memorabilia were being mass produced. Business had never been better.
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 19:59:51 GMT
As she grew older, Nikela could not stay enclosed in the church. Everything was too bright, too settled and ready for her there. She needed to make a new beggining. After searching a bit, she found some Sarenrae's faithful to accompany her in her travels. Those were a monk, by the name of Dalon, a paladin, Nikela's youngest brother by the name of Oldeor, and a cleric of the church, by the name of Sooth. Along with the oracle, Nikela, they traveled to find if a legend about a relic of Sarenrae that could heal all the wounded with a mere touch was true.
Nikela took her trusty book of stories and begun her long journey.
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 20:03:05 GMT
The first story Nikela was inspired to write about was an event that happened to them the first day they set foot in the forest.
The priest was once threatened with death by a bandit.
“Then be good enough to fulfill my dying wish,” said the priest. “Cut off the branch of that tree.” One slash of the sword, and it was done! “What now?” asked the bandit.
"Put it back again,” said the priest. The bandit laughed. “You must be crazy to think anyone can do that.”
“On the contrary, it is you who are crazy to think that you are mighty because you can wound and destroy. That is the task of one who is weak. The mighty know how to create and heal.”
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 20:12:53 GMT
Nikela traveled through a great forest with her group. During this travel, she wrote many stories, being inspired by the eerie environment around her.
A little wave was bobbing along in the ocean, having a grand old time. He’s enjoying the wind and the fresh air — until he notices the other waves in front of him, crashing against the shore. “This is terrible,” the wave says. “Look what’s going to happen to me!”
Then along comes another wave. It sees the first wave, looking grim, and it says to him, “Why do you look so sad?” The first wave says, “You don’t understand! We’re all going to crash! All of us waves are going to be nothing! Isn’t this terrible?”
The second wave says, “No, you don’t understand. You’re not a wave, you’re part of the ocean.”
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 20:17:22 GMT
Two jewel merchants arrived at an oasis in the desert at about the same time one night. Each was quite conscious of the other’s presence, and while unloading his camel, one of them could not resist the temptation to let a large pearl fall to the ground as if by accident. It rolled in the direction of the other who, with affected graciousness, picked it up and returned it to its owner saying, “That is a fine pearl you have there, sir. As large and lustrous as they come.”
“How gracious of you to say so,” said the other. As a matter of fact, that is one of the smaller gems in my collection.”
A beggar who was sitting by the fire and had observed this drama, rose and invited the two of them to eat with him. When they began their meal, this is the story he told them:
“I, too, my friends, was once upon a time, a jeweler like you. One day I was overtaken by a great storm in the desert. It buffeted me and my caravan this way and that till I was separated from my entourage and lost my way completely.
Days passed and I was panic-stricken to realize that I was really wandering bout in circles with no sense of where I was or which direction to walk in. Then, almost dead with starvation, I unloaded every bag on my camel’s back, anxiously searching through them for the hundredth time.
Imagine my excitement when I came upon a pouch that had escaped my notice before. With trembling fingers I ripped it open hoping to find something to eat. Imagine my disillusionment when I found that all it contained was pearls!”
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 20:21:02 GMT
A teacher once described his own inner struggles in this manner:
“Inside of me there are two dogs. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean dog fights the good dog all the time.”
When asked which dog wins, he reflected for a moment and replied, “The one I feed the most.”
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Post by SigniferLux on Aug 20, 2013 20:28:48 GMT
There was a group of elderly gentlemen in Calidor who would meet to exchange news and drink tea. One of their diversions was to search for costly varieties of tea and create new blends that would delight the palate.
When it was the turn of the oldest member of the group to entertain the others, he served tea with the greatest ceremony, measuring out the leaves from a golden container. Everyone had the highest praise for the tea and demanded to know by what particular combination he had arrived at this exquisite blend.
The old man smiled and said, “Gentlemen, the tea that you find so delightful is the one that is drunk by the peasants on my farm. The finest things in life are neither costly nor hard to find.”
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