Beneath the Dragoneye Moons

I’d already decided that I’d take the journey through the Valley of Echoing Prayers slowly. It served three purposes.

The first was that Night had recommended it. The second was to work on my grasp of the Kanauri language, exclusively spoken in the region. A good number of giants might be fluent in High Elvish, but the region was so insular I doubted it was widespread. Then again - giants, practically Immortal lifespan, and -

I spun off a thought process with [Luminary Mind] to ruminate on the approximate percentage of the population that spoke High Elvish, and a second one to think about the meaning of ‘the middle way’ and how it applied to the road.

Being able to speak the native language would endear me to the locals, and hopefully Kunchenjab would appreciate it. Plus, the chance to learn something new!

Speaking of learning new things - this was a prime opportunity to learn more about their religion and philosophy. A new way of thinking, a way to unwind. Perhaps there was wisdom in their words, a way to find peace and tranquility.

With nothing better to do at the moment, I started to walk down the cobblestone path, noting that I was not the only traveler on the road. The majority of travelers were giant [Villagers], using the convenient and secure path to move up and down the valley. A few giants clad as [Monks] were either walking to the monastery themselves, or meditating under a tree.

Other non-giant Elvenoids were rare, but we existed. I was walking along, contemplating the meaning of the three different roads when a foot came down on my head. It had nearly reached me when I realized the giant wasn’t going to change their stride for me, and a quick [Blink] off to the side stopped me from entering a contest of my strength versus their weight, also known as the ‘Elaine doesn’t get turned into paste’ maneuver.

My eyes narrowed at the villager who had to have seen me, but just didn’t give enough of a shit to try and avoid stomping me. Most people were considerate enough not to step on cats, and the size difference was roughly right.

Jerk.

The part of me thinking about the road had come to a number of half-conclusions. More questions than answers, but simply thinking about the questions was enlightening in and of itself.

One big thing I noticed was everyone else traveling along took their own path. Some stuck to the same type of road, while others were more practical and simply took the fastest path to where they were going. A few people deliberately seemed to be aiming for the most winding route possible, which had to be a choice.

Yet, at the end of the day, did we not all arrive at the same place, the destination we were heading towards? Was the path not taken simply that - a different path? Was there wisdom in following what I’d mentally dubbed ‘the middle way’ no matter how it weaved and wound around the other two paths? Or was part of the lesson saying that I should stick to the middle path, and occasionally the middle path was paved with gold, and at others it was a poor beggar’s game trail?

Thoughts and questions, forcing me to actually think in a different way for the first time in years. I appreciated it. Too long I’d been staying in the same thought patterns, the same reactions, and this was a solid way to force flexibility back into my thinking.

My mental evaluation of the mandatory breaks Sentinels had to take went up quite a few notches.

One of my own thoughts, a phrase I’d read in a book a long time ago and worlds apart came back to me. I could learn more from a single footstep than a thousand books.

I’d been [The Very Hungry Bookwyrm] and devoured a thousand books. Now I was taking some steps myself.

The giants started up a new low chant, voices as deep as the ocean, and I paused, stepped off the road to the side, and listened. My Kanauri was entirely theoretical - I’d literally memorized a dictionary before coming here, thank you [Astral Archives] - so translating the words was a slow process, as I painstakingly worked out which word was being said, no mean feat with accents and the like, tried to figure out if there was any grammar attached to the word, looked it up, and bit by bit constructed a single sentence. It was helpful that the words continued to echo throughout the valley, letting me hear them again and again.

Be who you are; otherwise you will miss your life.

Once I’d pieced the sentence together, I started walking down the road, thinking on the words, practicing saying them myself. It was a bit of a shame that [Ancient Loremaster of Legend] was capped, along with [Astral Archives] and [Lust for Lore] - this would be amazing experience for them. Hopefully it would help with my class quality when I upgraded soonish. Then again, a good chunk of this trip would improve my quality.

I mostly agreed with the philosophy, but perhaps that was because everything had worked out well for me. I’d generally taken classes that resonated with me, that I felt were very me, and found joy in my levels and my work. I’d taken classes for fun, I’d gained skills for the joy of it, and I’d been rewarded through life.

I found it difficult to fully endorse the idea. There were some people who just weren’t all that, and striving to be better or different from how they currently were would be an improvement. Yet, if someone went into a job they disliked because their true passion was laying around doing nothing, and ended up finding joy and improvement in that way, was becoming a better person like that being ‘who they were’?

I was starting to wrap up my thoughts when the next prayer hit. Another translation-and-practice session later, and I had the essence of the thought.

The root of suffering is attachment.

I spent way too long checking the dictionary for how exactly the language handled ‘suffering’, and what connotations it had. It didn’t seem like there was anything radically different, which had me disagreeing with the thought strongly.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

If someone ran a sword through me, if a dinosaur took off my arm, if a pterodactyl tried to eat my eyes out, I’d be suffering quite a bit, attachment or not. If I was enslaved and beaten - suffering. Lots of it.

I suppose if they were as hardcore over their beliefs as other religious people they’d point out I was attached to my body and sense of integrity. Maybe I was supposed to release my attachment to my body? I suppose part of the foundational beliefs of the [Monks] involved ‘we are a soul, we’re trying to escape Samsara’, so I guess in that respect they were consistent. Alternatively, I was horribly mistranslating ‘suffering’ and the subtle connotations, history, culture, and meaning behind the word were radically different. If only language could be an easy one to one translation!

I checked another assumption of mine - that the dictionary I’d picked up was good, and the [Author] both had a talent in multiple languages, and a talent for writing clear, concise definitions. All a challenge, and that was before I hit any idiomatic expressions.

I was enjoying myself. It wasn’t a book, it wasn’t a mango - my mind inevitably drifted to [Vault of Ages] where I’d stored a number of dried and sugared mangos, and involuntarily started salivating at the thought of eating them - but it was peaceful and nice. I spent the entire day slowly walking the valley, and realized the giants didn’t stop even as the sun set, continuing to bellow out their wisdoms.

Everything in moderation, including moderation.

I could quickly and easily agree with the idea, although the concept of ‘moderation’ could use some examination.

Work out your own salvation. Do not depend on others.

I’d always believed in seizing my own fate and captaining my own ship, even from an early age. Nobody else was going to do it for me.

Love is a gift of one’s innermost soul to another so both can be whole.

My mind jumped to Iona and Auri, a silly smile on my face as my heart burst with love for the two of them. I couldn’t wait to see my little fiery friend again, it had been far too long. I could only hope she’d be waiting for me back home when I got there.

Eight pillars, thick as a giant and eight times as tall, dotted the valley. On each one a single word was carved, clearly an ideal to be strived for. Each one had an unusual number of [Monks] gathered around it in quiet contemplation.

View. Aspiration. Words. Action. Effort. Mindfulness. Concentration. Lifestyle.

An interesting take on the important aspects to life. I struggled with the seventh one, and I filed away Words, Action, and Effort for my upcoming meeting with Kunchenjab.

It took a day and a night to traverse the valley, pausing only to enter my [Vault] for a modest meal of flat bread and plain water. The right food for the occasion. When I tried to exit, I found to my brief panic that I couldn’t, that my skill was activating but nothing was happening. I wasn’t being let out. Fighting back blind panic - I don’t want to be stuck here forever oh gods no what went wrong?! - I tried again, teleporting back to the real world with a giant’s sandal in my face. Fortunately, it was lifting up, and I was able to quickly realize what happened.

The giant had stepped into my ‘return’ spot for [Vault of Ages], and with a physical, vitality-reinforced object blocking my way, I couldn’t teleport back.

I shuddered. That had been close.

I could’ve blitzed the length of the Valley in under a minute, but the meditation, mindfulness, and language acquisition were important. Plus, I was on vacation.

Journey before destination.

At the end of the Valley of Echoing Prayers was the Staircase of Giants. Each step was hewn out of the mountain rock, and generations of enormous giants walking up and down the stairs had worn them down.

They were still stairs for giants, each step taller than I was, even after the worn-down depression. There was no concession for us smallfolk, no elvenoid staircase carved in the side.

To be fair, I didn’t make any concessions to gnomes when I’d approved the design for our villa.

Carved into each stair was a saying, another set of philosophy that the [Monks] believed in. A few of the phrases overlapped the chants I’d heard echoing throughout the valley, some were different. I suspected if I spent long enough in the valley, I’d hear every message carved into the stone steps.

The doors of the Immortal are open.

Let those who can hear respond with faith.

The two sentences, carved in letters taller than I was, was the first step’s solemn creed.

When in Remus, act as the Remans. I sat down cross-legged in front of the words on the stairs, mindfully not going to the center where a passing giant would turn me into a red stain on the steps - probably sacrilegious, but their relationship with death seemed a little iffy from what I could understand. The next great journey and all that.

While tall, I could still jump up and grab the lip of the stair, even before the System had improved my physical capabilities, and before my biomancy came into play. On one hand, I wanted to take it seriously, to show the proper reverence for the almost-religious stairs. On the other, there were no accommodations for me, and no way to combine graceful, elegant, and humble. The last one was the sticking point - there were all sorts of fancy moves I could pull off, but none of them were humble.

With a small jump, I grabbed the lip of the stair, and did a full-body pull up to bring myself up and over, like how I’d get out of a swimming pool. Probably the most humble move I could pull off, but not exactly graceful or elegant.

Everything in moderation. The words from before echoed back. Well, I might as well try a different way of getting over every step.

I looked up, my face stoic as I rapidly counted how many steps were left. There were 125 steps until I hit a thick bank of clouds, and I remembered the Jahkong Monastery being higher than that. Each step was also long, large enough to comfortably fit a giant’s foot and then some.

According to who one follows, so does one become. Like one’s associates one becomes.

Ooof. That one hit hard. I thought about all the people I’d spent my life around, starting with Artemis. I hadn’t exactly been around the best role models, and they’d undeniably shaped and influenced my thoughts, which in turn shaped my actions and ethics.

While only the second step, I found the message profound enough to spend significant time meditating over it, trying to trace influences of different people on me and how it shaped my views.

What would I have been like if I’d spent more time around gentle healers? If I’d worked with people who used violence as the last resort, instead of quickly picking up a blade, or reflexively casting?

The thoughts moved onto how I shaped others, and it reframed Night’s reluctance to be heavily involved in everything in Exterreri in spite of his ability to literally rule the country as [Emperor]. If he knew his tendencies, thoughts, philosophy, and actions rubbed off on others - I had no doubt he was crystal aware of it, not at high age, experience, and willingness to learn and do everything - did he not want to shape everyone into an ancient relic with certain thought patterns and behaviors? It put his willingness to step back, to let people make mistakes and figure things out for themselves in new light.

Should I step back myself? Or did I have a bright and shining light to offer, one that I should help radiate from the mountains and see if I could shape others onto a kinder, gentler path and way of life?

Was my life one to be envied and emulated?

I’d spent significant time working my way through the valley, but this one step, this one ideal, triggered so many thoughts and self-examination that I stayed for hours, contemplating the thought.

[*ding!* You’ve unlocked the General Skill [Meditation]. Would you like to replace a skill with it? Y/N]

[*ding!* You’ve unlocked the General Skill [Thoughtful Contemplation]. Would you like to replace a skill with it? Y/N]

[*ding!* You’ve unlocked the General Skill [Serenity]. Would you like to replace a skill with it? Y/N]

As usual, the System was offering me quite a few skills, none of which I was interested in taking in the moment.

After enough time I got up and stretched, then did a standing jump to get over the next stair. Step after step I tackled with acrobatic excellence, striving for beauty and perfection in all things. I jumped up, grabbed the lip, then kicked into a front flip over the step. I ran at the wall, using momentum and obscene amounts of dexterity to simply run up the side of the wall.

200 steps. 200 lessons. The [Monks] didn’t stop chanting, although after 50 steps I wasn’t getting solid echoes anymore. The laws of Sound didn’t change just because there were giants chanting. Step by step I made my way to the top, eventually reaching the Jahkong Monastery. A single [Monk] was waiting at the door, and immediately spotted me.

“Amitabha, traveler. What brings you here?”

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