Divine Apostasy Book 7 - Chapter 69

Chapter 69

When the Founders stood, each of them extended their fists, acknowledging Ruwen’s skills.

Ruwen let go of Harmony and rose from the third meditation. The world around him now seemed dull, and he felt the loss of the connectedness Harmony provided.

Stepping forward, Ruwen grasped Dusk’s fist, and gently opened it. He turned to Mist and then Thorn, repeating the act. The three Founders now stood with palms facing down.

Taking a large step backward Ruwen bowed to them and then clenched his right fist, covering it with his left palm.

Ruwen spoke from his heart. “You created the extraordinary, wrapped it in remarkable, and covered it with wonder. If I live a thousand lives, I could never repay this gift. Thank you.”

The Founders, exposed to the final incarnation of the amazing and complex philosophy they’d conceived were overcome with emotion.

Dusk tried to speak, cleared her throat, and tried again. “We have doubted ourselves. All this time, and we only see echoes, shadows, of the…of the—”

“Harmony,” Ruwen offered.

Dusk nodded. “Yes, Harmony. Only now are we sure it exists.”

The Founders, like all artists, had taken their vision and crafted a version for everyone, trying to encapsulate an idea or concept into a perfect reflection of their dream.

Ruwen smiled. “A Sage, a Priestess, and a Shade have taught me an important lesson. Question your thoughts, but never doubt your heart.”

The three Founders bowed again.

“I regret thinking you immature,” Thorn whispered through a tight throat. “You humble us with our own teaching.”

“Agreed,” Mist added. “I feel like a Novice again.”

Dusk hesitated and then in a rush the question Ruwen expected arrived.

“Is it something we can learn?” Dusk asked.

Ruwen grew serious. “That is up to you.”

The three Founders bowed, thinking Ruwen had answered their question in the same vague metaphysical way they instructed.

“As a Novice, my Sisen gave me direct, actionable, instruction,” Ruwen said. “When my center had shifted too far forward or my hips didn’t align or whatever, he told me, and I fixed it. At some point between Novice and Master, everyone stops teaching like that. Why do you think that happens?”

Thorn answered. “As a Step practitioner advances, their growth stems from internal revelations as their physical skills level off. That is why we discourage easy advancement as you approach Master. Such rapid progress leaves no time for inner growth.”

“There is logic in that, I admit,” Ruwen said. “But my own rapid advancement proves you can have both. You asked me if Harmony can be taught, and I said it’s up to you. I meant that literally. I know why I succeeded when you didn’t.”

“Respectfully,” Padda said to the Founders. “Do you wish us to leave before anything further is discussed?”

Ruwen turned and smiled at Madda and Padda, standing together at the edge of the ring. “Do you know I just learned what your names mean. I really feel stupid.”

“Stupid is all you and Sift find,” Madda said. Then her eyes grew large as she realized what she’d said. “I’m so—”

“Stop,” Ruwen said, holding out a hand. “Don’t apologize. You’re right. Although I’d like to think it’s mostly Sift’s fault. I’m still the same person, please don’t treat me any different.”

Madda nodded, and Padda looked relieved.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Ruwen said to Madda and Padda. “In fact, that is the entire problem.”

The Founders all frowned, confused.

“I think there’s another reason you alter the way you teach,” Ruwen said. “It goes to the core of your failure and explains why I succeeded.” The Founders and Addas waited, eager for understanding. “As a Step student advances their knowledge and experience, they create a metaphysical weight as their value to the Clan increases. Explanations are like investments, and the clearer and more precise the knowledge, the larger that investment becomes. There is risk that the student will fail, despite the knowledge, and the Sisen shares that failure. In short, the more exact your instruction, the greater the responsibility you carry for that Sijun.”

Ruwen had realized this when teaching Rung Four, and then later, the other Rungs. The more he taught them, the stronger his connection to them became, and he began to feel responsible for them.

Rung Four amplified this with their memories and intense desire to save their world. He cared about every one of them, and as this attachment formed, he realized he’d created yet another burden on his soul.

Ruwen continued. “The first Step practitioner I ever met reminded me time and time again the value of a light soul free from attachments and burdens. He was right, there is value. And everyone that comes to these trials has learned the same lesson, passed down from one Sisen to the next, which is the danger of burdens.”

Ruwen paused, remembering his feelings when Sift had said the seventh trial had only taken seconds. “The value this philosophy has is the ease of the seventh trial, which reinforces your beliefs that it’s correct. You are wrong.”

Ruwen let the Founders absorb that for a few seconds, and then started again. “I didn’t understand completely until our fight. I’ve spent the last two years creating unbelievable connections to world around me. Items, people, and other responsibilities that pinned my soul to the external world.” He looked at each of the three sisters. “This made the seventh trial difficult for me. The greater your external connections, the more enlightenment you require to balance it. But that cost doesn’t come without benefit.”

Ruwen closed his eyes and felt the world around him. He opened his eyes and pushed his palms out, stopping the wind that gusted around them. Into the sudden silence, he spoke. “The seventh trial, using my soul as the swivel, balanced my inner and outer worlds, but the connections I’d made to the external world still remain. I feel the breath of the wind, hear the heartbeat of the world, and taste the tears of the clouds. And it feels me. We are connected.”

The wind returned, causing the cotton of their clothes to snap.

Dusk closed her eyes, comprehension arriving with silent tears. “Of course,” she whispered. “How can we sense a world we have no connections with?”

Ruwen nodded. “This knowledge unites us. I feel responsible for trusting you with it. But that burden doesn’t make me weaker, it only increases the power of my Harmony.”

“The Clan owes you eternal thanks, Grandmaster Starfield,” Dusk whispered.

The Founders and Addas bowed and Ruwen returned it.

Ruwen had arrived at the Master’s trial believing he’d learned all the secrets the Steps contained. Instead, the Steps had humbled him, and revealed a deeper message.

It reminded Ruwen of the Shade Rule, Lylan had told Sift in passing. Only now did Ruwen appreciate the vast wisdom it contained.

“Shade’s First Rule,” Lylan had said. “Move fast alone, travel far together.”