The Monastery

Chapter 48: Voice of the Buddha

Kailas lifted his hands as he felt the wind strengthen. It stirred the grass, the horses, and his heart. He felt in the wind the presence of Song, and he smiled.

              "What are you smiling about?" the Emperor growled. "You're about to die."

              "I smile for the beauty of this moment," Kailas answered. Then he sat down on the ground before the Emperor, crossing his legs into the traditional meditative posture. He felt the wind twist around his body, lifting the red shawl out behind him. 

              The Emperor stood before Kailas and raised his sword high.

              "You may be the like of a god," he said. "But you are simply a boy who is about to die." 

              "And you may be the like of an Emperor, but you are simply a man who is about to change."

              Enraged, the Emperor brought down his sword with all his might. But halfway through his killing blow, his sword slowed to a crawl, then stopped. No matter his strength of arm, the sword merely trembled in his hands, unmoving. He then felt the wind race across his royal raiment, twisting through his hair. A thousand soldiers watched in shock as the wind changed into the form of a girl. She stood between the Emperor and the boy.

              "That's enough, Father," said the voice of Song.

              The Emperor staggered backwards, his eyes widened and aghast. "What is this trick?" He cried out. "My daughter died long ago. What is this mirage that stands before my eyes?"

              Song took a step toward him. "No, your daughter did not die. But she did run away. And if it weren't for the boy who sits before you, I might have never come back."

              The Emperor looked into his daughter's eyes and knew it to be the truth. "But why come now?"

              "Because you are suffering, and you are my father." 

              "I am not suffering!" the Emperor shouted. "Who are you to know? You are but a child!" He turned to face the thousands of soldiers. "See with your own eyes, my daughter Song has returned, manifesting from the wind itself! Know in your hearts that Mala was wrong, that the blood of the gods flows through the veins of our royal family!"

              Song stepped closer to her father and spoke again. Her voice was carried on the wind to the ears of every soldier single soldier who had marched their way from the Empire. Her voice could be heard by every person standing outside Nyima, and all who awaited their fates within. It was carried over the seas, the mountains and the deserts, until all who lived in the world could hear the voice of the Buddha.

              "I am Song, the princess and firstborn daughter of my father, the Emperor. There is no blood of the gods that flows through my veins, only compassion and understanding. I have the same blood as all of you who hear me now, for we are all one and the same."

              As she spoke, some people of Nyima began to kneel. Her voice was felt with such love that all the people who heard could not help but feel humbled by the girl. Others began to kneel as well. 

              "Father," said Song, "I have returned because you have been plagued by a disease that afflicts and threatens all of us in this world. Our family, for far too long, have been misled by our ignorance, believing something to be true that has never been. That created our attachments, illusions and the desires to have it never taken away from us. Then, in our fear of losing that unvirtuous power, we began conquering the many free countries of the world, but not because it was the righteous path. We did this out of fear, and that is something to be ashamed of."

              "You know not of what you speak, Song," the Emperor spat out, but his voice was weak.

              Slowly, and only a few at a time, the soldiers of the Empire began to take a knee.

              "And I am a piece of that very family," Song continued. "A family that has caused so much suffering and pain. It was for that reason that I fled our homeland, hoping to run and forget that which I could not change." Song lowered herself to her knees, her tears gracing the grounds.

              "Song, you cannot, you are of royal blood," the Emperor choked.

              Song lowered her forehead to the grass. "We are truly sorry for the suffering we have brought into the world." Tears fell one after another as the world heard her voice. She held her forehead to the earth, feeling the centuries of their family's wrongdoing heavy on her heart. "Please, forgive us."

               After a long moment, she looked up at her father. "This was the one thing I could do in the hopes of making it right. It is my duty as your daughter, to succeed, where you have failed, Father."

              "Song," said the Emperor. "You have been swayed and misled to believe things that aren't true. I don't know who this boy is, but you mustn't believe the things he has been telling you—"

               Song held up her finger to her lips, then stood, and began walking towards him.

              "Do not come near me! You are not my daughter!"

              Feeling the sadness of her heart welling up inside her, Song found the body of Mala and knelt next to him. "Look what your actions have brought to your brother and your childhood friend . . . Open your eyes and your heart, Father . . . Mala is dead!"

              The Emperor wearily turned to face Mala. At that, Song came towards him and pressed her thumb to the middle of her father's forehead. "Now remember, who you truly are, Raja."

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