The Remainder of the Equinox

Chapter Fifteen

Zenyatta remembered the time when he would sneak out of the monastery. He knew he wasn't supposed to, but how could he not? The world was made to be lived in. It was too beautiful not to experience first hand. He had always thought the curfew bell was overrated and useless. After the last bells were rung, he would wait about an hour for the rest of the monks to go to bed. Once he was certain the coast was clear, he would wait a little longer, just to be sure.

He would lift up his window and climb out into the thin, bitter night air. His breath would become a cloud in front of him. His feet would hit the powdered land, sending chills up his leg. He would make each step as careful as possible. The world was ghost-quiet aside from the small patter of his feet.

He would walk out to a certain spot he deemed fit, and he would sit on the icy ground. His head would tilt up, up, up, up, until only the sky was visible. The best nights were when the sky was clear. Not a single cloud would block the beautiful, everlasting canvas of stars. He would be completely alone, just watching the pieces of art that danced before his eyes.

He would continue this well into his later years. It wasn't every night, but only when the sky was truly clear. He wasn't caught a single time.

On his last day at the monastery, something was different. He climbed out of the window, like normal, and grabbed a branch with dozens of twigs branching off. He learned to carry it with him at all times, to make sure he didn't leave behind any tracks. He sat down in the snow and closed his eyes. Any other time, it would be completely silent aside from his own breathing. But that day, something was off. He could hear the small breaths of someone else, hidden away from his sight. When the person spoke, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Zenyatta, we need to talk."

"What is there to talk about?" He didn't turn around or stand up. He knew who it was.

"You can't just leave," Mondatta stepped in front of Zenyatta, towering over him. "We need you here."

"I think all of you will be fine without me. You have more than enough people to help you with different tasks and chores. I do not see a reason why I should not go." He looked up at Mondatta, who had the moon as a halo around his head.

"I meant that I need you here." His brother knelt down and took his hand.

"Is there a trip you are planning that needs me?"

"Well... no."

"Is there a project you need me to work on?"

"No."

"Am I forced to stay?"

"No, but-"

"Then I don't see any reason why I cannot go."

"Why do you have to leave?"

Zenyatta sighed. "I have gone over this with you plenty of times. I do not agree with many of the things that are taught. I want to be able to do what I want to do. I can't live here forever."

"It's possible," Mondatta mumbled. This brought a sad smile to both of their faces.

"I need go explore the world. Like you said, I need to get out of my comfort zone. How else will I "broaden my perspective"?" Zenyatta quoted a past speech that was given by his brother, all those years ago.

"You do know," his brother gently whispered, "that we will not see each other for a long time, yes?"

Of course he knew; he knew when the idea first popped into his head. Still, the whole world was out there, just waiting for Zenyatta to witness its beauty. "Yes. But you act like it is a death sentence. We'll see each other again, no doubt. It's only a matter of time."

In that moment, Mondatta looked at him in a way that struck grief and bittersweetness in Zenyatta's chest.

"Are you sure this is the path you want to take?" His brother asked, staring him right in his eyes. "Are you going to be happy with this decision?"

The snow on the ground was suddenly so much more interesting to look at. He thought about the questions for a long time. Was he really ready to go off on his own?

The years he spent at the monastery rolled through his memory not unlike that of a movie. His entire family was here. Everything that he ever was existed in this place. How would he know if he made the right choice?

His mind immediately answered that he would never know. He would never know if he was making the worst or the best choice of his life.

And he was okay with that.

The snow began to fall again. The small flakes of snow gathered on the ground, replacing the old with the new. He lifted his eyes from the ground and placed a steady stare onto his brother.

* * *

"So?" Mondatta's voice brought his attention back to the matter at hand. "Do you want to go back to Nepal with me?"

A complete sense of shock covered Zenyatta's body like a blanket. He honestly never thought he would get a chance like the one offered at that moment. To see his home and family again would have been amazing.

His heart pounded heavily on the inside of his chest. What was the feeling that was clouding his mind like a giant cumulonimbus cloud? Nostalgia?

He thought of the rest of his family. Would they recognize him? Or would he just be another stranger to them?

Nevertheless, the homesickness in his heart almost hurt his chest. If he could only be there for a few hours...

He sighed, knowing fully well what his answer would be.

"Yes."