Ia and the Gate

When Ia stood on the far side of the Gate, he was purified and pristine, unmarred by blights upon his spirit and unburdened by trappings of the flesh, and so he would remain even despite and after treating with others who were mottled, flawed, and weak. The path he had taken now stood closed and barred to return passage, but this did not daunt him.

When Ia met the first traveler along his path, they could not communicate, for Ia did not speak the traveler's language nor did the traveler speak Ia's. So he devised a means of communication and could thereafter pass the message he bore on to this and other travelers, and they understood.

When Ia was set upon by some few with the desire to claim Ia's sole possession for themselves, Ia engaged them and revealed to them the truth which lay well-hidden behind their decision, and they were humbled at its sight.

When Ia set forth to spread his revelations, he could go in no direction but forward, and he was unafraid and unworried, for Ia had long ago purged these and other intrusive emotions. He would not allow mysteries to remain mysteries, nor tolerate possibilities to remain possibilities, nor permit the Wheel to remain stagnant and unchanging.

Cast away all flawed and half-finished burdens and blessings, and shed notions which constrain and constrict, and walk the Wheel freely.

Ia and the Liars

Ia and his disciples traveled throughout the northern kingdoms to spread his teachings, and in time they entered the largest and grandest city in the world. Churches and shrines and temples to an inbred and degenerate family of false gods could be found everywhere, and the servants of the cruelest of those gods were found on every corner and along every street. They carried cloaks of their office and leveled their sharp blades at any whom they felt were in violation of their god's senseless edicts.

Ia's disciples quailed at the sight of these harsh men and women, but Ia was unafraid and took up a place in the city's eastern side, below a great stone statue of a two-legged dragon, and he sermonized at passers-by as he always had. A crowd formed in short order as men, women, and their children alike were drawn in by the truth of Ia's words. The enforcers of that strict god arrived soon after, having heard of the burgeoning crowd, but they did not interfere until the moment Ia's words reverberated with the crowd's passions to such a degree that they burst into cheer and began to chant responses to Ia's sermon. In that moment, they drew their long swords and seized members of the crowd into their custody.

'Stop what you are doing!' Ia commanded them, and they stopped to listen to Ia's words. 'These people have done nothing wrong. Their thoughts are to be their own. Even your own god's crooked laws grant them this freedom.'

'This demagogue speaks the truth,' said one of the cloaked men. 'Release this rabble and send them on their way. Our attention falls rather upon the one who would use trickery and black magic to make our citizens turn their backs on the divine law which is above all others.' The cloaked man's companions did as bade, and the crowd scattered in fear of the abuse they might face if they remained.

Ia's disciples drew protectively around the Holy One, but Ia stepped down from the statue's pedestal and strode beyond the living shield of his disciples without fear to meet the men who interrupted his work. The men took hold of Ia's arms and forced him to his knees on the yellow bricks of the square. Their leader held his blade aloft and told Ia that he was judged guilty of the direst crime under their corrupt laws, and that he was to be put to death.

Ia's disciples cursed the men, but the leader paid no heed to their words, and he swung his sword at Ia's neck. The blade cut into his flesh, but not as deeply as it should have, but Ia did not react in either pain nor ire. 'You may try again, if you wish,' Ia told the man as the wound began to close over. 'But know this: the blows you strike from the ignorance of your visored lives may be forgiven but one time.'

The leader cursed Ia then as a blasphemer and as a witch, and swung once more with all his might. The blow fell, and Ia's neck was cut, but Ia remained, for Preservation held him fast. Ia then smote the men as his disciples watched, and every last one of them fell to the earth in proof of Ia's strength.

One of the men, a wise coward, turned and fled, but Ia beckoned to him two times, and the man halted his flight. Ia challenged the man to sing the praises of his patron god, but the man did the opposite. He tore his cloak from his shoulders, sliced his sword through the white cloth, and cursed his own god as a liar and a deceiver. Once he had done this, Ia broke the man's weapon and told him, 'Go, you who has seen the truth of things. Tell all who would listen of what you have witnessed, but know that I do not spare you. You will suffer terrible death, but you will serve the Three by creating through your own destruction until that time.' The man did as Ia commanded.

Then Ia took his disciples and left the city behind them. 'We shall not return to this place,' Ia said to them. 'These souls are not yet meant to be redeemed. Only after their city crumbles to dust and has become a haven for cruel monsters, and they have no home to call their own any longer, will they recognize the error of their ways. Then we shall welcome the contrite and condemn the rest to the fate they chose with glee.'

This is the strength of Ia's promise. Even the most ardent of heathens are bound to the Wheel.

Ia and the Initiate

Ia and his disciples came upon a frail old man sitting cross-legged upon a flat stone. The man seemed at utter peace with the world, smiling cheerily and looking about in wonder and bliss, seeming to be without a single care, and he was unaware of the arrival of Ia and his disciples.

'Holy Ia,' asked Ia's disciple Creassin, 'how can a man be so joyful despite living in a world rife with hardship and despair, in which one's life is only the means through which one dies?'

'He is unaware of this manner of insight,' responded Destair before Ia could speak. 'His ignorance of the Truth which has opened our eyes maintains his happiness. If he were to learn of the secrets we have and keep, he too would grow sober in light of Destruction's inevitability.'

'If you believe this to be so,' Ia said to Destair, 'then go and speak with this man, but know that you take responsibility for bringing those pains into his life, and for ushering him to stand before the Gate.'

'Is that not our calling, Holy One?' asked Preston, and Ia replied, 'Indeed, it is so. But this does not allay the weight you carry for shattering the delusions other hold. To tell others what is true, despite it being true, is a cruel thing, for most are not prepared to accept their previous errors, and they will find themselves in greater despair than the fortunate wretch who never enjoyed a single fine or foul day.'

Destair girded himself for what he must do, then he did as Ia bade, and when he finished his task the old man's expression had been darkened and never again regained its past luster.

Ia and the Book

Ia wandered among hills and valleys on his own one evening, and he came upon a settlement of miners who wrested livings by delving into the earth and harvesting its bounties. The village was wealthy far in excess of its size and population, so effectively did it extract gemstones and precious metals, and Ia spoke with the leader of the community and asked how it could be that so small a settlement could be so prosperous.

'The secrets are within this manual which I uncovered,' answered the village's overseer, and he showed Ia a broad and flat tome. Its pages lay between covers of slate, and a twin girdles of gold and steel crossed the book's cover and bound it together. Ia recognized the book, and its presence was of great interest to him.

'How did you come to own this marvelous tome?' asked Ia, and the overseer answered, 'I received a vision in which a man formed of nothing more than bones and dirt and stone awoke after a long sleep, and the man beckoned me to follow him. I did, and he led me to a great realm deep below the earth where graves stood, one for every person who died, is dying, and will yet die. Deeper yet I tread and I stood before doors of black metal unlike any that I had ever seen, set a cavern that loomed larger than the sky, and there a dead man gave this book to me and then said to me, "Take and keep this." When I awoke the book lay upon my chest, and I have kept it ever since. But I was not told never to open it, and so I did, and the secrets of the earth were revealed to me, and my community now prospers.'

'Your book is stolen,' Ia said, 'but its proper owner must never find or have it.' So Ia placed an enchantment upon the book which wreathed it in shadows and prevented it from being found by those who would call upon greater powers to search for it. 'Keep this book but do not speak of it, and let none learn of it except through my will.' The overseer witnessed and cowered before Ia's strength, and he agreed to Ia's terms, and the book passed from memory as intended.

Ia and the Beast

Ia and his disciples had set up their camp one evening as they always did. They hewed some small trees into firewood and lit a fire over which they could prepare their nighttime meal. They had just finished lighting the fire when a voice called out from the twilit wilderness beyond the light of their fire. The voice spoke in a language which Ia's disciples could not comprehend, but Ia replied gamely in the same tongue. He then said to his disciples, 'I have invited this guest to our campfire for the evening. Pay him no attention or mind and heed not any of his words, if you glean even the smallest bit of meaning from his foreign speech.'

A swarthy guest stepped into the ring of firelight, and he was clad in furs taken from forest beasts, and he wore a cap made from the skin of a fox. He bore a spear and he leveled it at Ia and asked a question of him, and Ia replied with honesty in his voice. The man gestured to the campfire, to the stacked bundles of wood, and to Ia's disciples who went about their business in the woodlands. But, as Ia had bidden, they continued their routine as always, and they ignored the man's increasingly furious ravings.

At the end of his patience, the man thrust his spear skyward and chanted in a booming voice, but Ia said a short word and the man's invocation grew silent and still, though his motions remained frenetic. He was brought low through Ia's power, and he charged forward to stab with his weapon at Ia, but the thrust did not land as intended. Ia grabbed the spear's shaft and broke it, and he humbled the furious man who was a man no longer, but a bear possessed of tangled black fur that reeked of sweat and worse things.

The beast roared a dreadful roar and grabbed up Ia and crushed him against its hairy chest and rent Ia with its fierce claws, but Ia would not be laid low, and he cursed the beast twofold, first to wander and act in confusion, and second to remain in the bestial form it had elected to take. Ia banished the creature after laying the twofold curse upon it, and it ran away howling in despair.

'Holy Ia,' Creasssin said, falling to his knees in awe, for Ia stood before his disciples with no sign of battle upon his unmarred body. 'Why would you welcome such a strange and fearsome man to our campfire?'

'You were never in any danger. His powers are cousin to those of Being, but they are lesser in many ways, for his can only dwindle in efficacy. His ilk shall be excluded from our ranks, despite being a distant cousin to us, because this cousin is marred of spirit despite how similar those powers may seem to those we wield. The ilk of that bear which was once a man cannot coexist with you wardens of the Truth. They stand outside our providence by choice, and they will be among those to surrender when Truth's enlightenment spreads across the land and they are weakened by its merest touch.'

Ia and the Keeper

Ia and his disciples walked through a village which once lay at a crossroads far from lands which could be considered safe or civilized. The residents of this place lived hard lives and were circumspect and cautious in their dealings with outsiders, for they could not trust anyone who was not one of their own not to have links to those who would do the residents or their village harm. So they looked upon Ia and his disciples with trepidation and mistrust, and they were cool and distant when approached and asked for directions or supplies or lodging. Indeed, when they asked about for rooms for the night, the owner of the village's single inn rebuked them and said he would not permit them a stay under his roof.

Ia's disciple Creassin grew piqued at this treatment, and he said to the keeper of the inn, 'Do you know that you turn away and treat as mud the holiest Ia, who comes to deliver Truth beyond all other truths to the people in this and other lands?

'We have seen holy men come and go in the past,' replied the owner. 'And this one is the same as all the others. Know that we treat them all equally and that none are welcome here, for their words stir passions and bring ruin upon stable places that neither asked for nor wanted this to befall them.'

'Those others are charlatans, preachers and prophets of false idols or men who speak words which carry the air of wisdom but lack any deeper truth or meaning when closely examined,' said Creassin. 'Ia's miracles and teachings are reflections of the foundations upon which this world is built, and they are glimpses into the structure of those foundations.'

'And I have heard all the charlatans say the same before as well,' answered the innkeeper. 'Your emphasis that this time it is different can only lead the prudent mind to conclude that it is but more of the same.'

Creassin could not break through the innkeeper's cynicism and doubt, and he turned to Ia for guidance. 'How can I convince this man and men like him that your words are indeed ripe with merit and worth consideration above all others?' he asked, and Ia answered, 'You must do more than speak on the matter. You must show that you are committed to what you preach and you must do this without expectation of reward.'

'Should it be so, that this man reap the benefits of what we offer without intending to respond and repay our gifts with proper devotion?'

'Even if one does not agree to be bound to the Wheel, they are lashed to it regardless,' answered Ia. 'But all who do not cling to the Wheel will find their bindings give way it as it turns its course, and they plummet into the realm which lays beyond Danimoth when Destruction approaches them, and they will be rewarded as deserved.'

In time, the village and its residents passed through the Gate just as Ia predicted, and they were lost and cursed through their cynicism until time itself ends.

Ia and the Dancers

Before Ia met the first of his disciples, he came upon a young man and woman who were dancing together beneath the high boughs of an ancient oak tree. The couple was so engrossed and carefree that they were unaware of the outside world and took no note of Ia until he had full and clear sight of them. Immediately they stopped, for they were afraid and awed by Ia's presence, alone and vulnerable as they were, but Ia would do them no harm.

Ia instead said to them quietly and calmly, 'Why do you do this thing which you do?' for he was quite curious as to their reasons.

'We do not know,' admitted the man after he had regained his bearings and could find sufficient self-control to speak clearly once again, and his dancing partner nodded in agreement with his words. 'We know we should not, as our village elder forbids us. But it brings us such joy that we cannot help ourselves.'

'You elder is possessed of bygone beliefs,' Ia told them. 'You do the small duty which is your lot to aid in continuing the revolution of the great Wheel. You create and in the wake of your creation does destruction bloom. The elder's edicts should not prevent you from indulging in the wondrous passions you feel need to express.' Ia looked over their heads to the few faint lights which marked the location of the nearby village. 'I will address him on this matter. The quaint notions which constrain you will be lifted.'

Ia did as promised, and he attended to the leader of that small village, and the young man and woman were troubled no more by him.

Ia and the Preachers

Ia and his disciples came upon a large market which was being held in a square near the center of a small village. Residents from all the nearby villages had brought their wares to be sold at stalls which the host village rented for a modest price. In addition to the stalls brimming with goods, a number of men and women dressed as priests sermonized at the edges of the market square. These preachers wore expensive, well-made clothing which was the envy of the poorer villagers, and the villagers listened closely to what the preachers said because the preachers claimed that the villagers, too, could escape their dreary existence.

Ia's disciple Creassin asked Ia, 'Holy One, how is it that all these men and woman could claim to possess the solution to the problem these villagers face?'

Ia responded by saying, 'Different paths might lead to the same destination.' Then he bade his disciples, 'Now listen closely to the promises they shout.'

Ia's disciples did as asked, and they found to their amazement that all these priests of differing faiths, despite using somewhat different words, echoed the same promises. These promises did not come from a place of genuine altruism, but offered only the merest hints of salvation before the preachers diverted from the topic and solicited donations for their church, which the gathered villagers eagerly provided.

'Why do you not stop them, Holy Ia?' Creassin asked. 'Will you allow these villagers to lose all they have worked hard to earn to such charlatans?'

'These villagers pay what they desire to hear these words, even if they are empty and without greater or further meaning. They pay the price now, in coin, and they will pay the price later, when they are thrust through Danimoth's Gate without having attained any measure of redemption.'

'Should we not try to change their ways and offer them a means of salvation we know to be real?'

'They cheerily chase words of little weight, but have no will to hear or heed those which form messages of true importance. Your time and energy is spent better elsewhere.'

So Ia and his disciples quickly passed through that small village and left it behind them.

Ia and the Assassin

Ia knelt nearby an open window with his back to the night sky when the man who was sent to slay him came. Ia knew this would happen, and did nothing to preent, for Ia felt no fear at the assassin's presence nor threat from the assassin's weapon. When the assassin thrust, and the sharp blade pierced Ia's neck straight through, the assassin's blade did not cut as deeply as it might have. After the blow had landed, Ia grasped the protruding blade in his fingers, and the assassin looked on in stunned wonder, for though Ia's throat was skewered he persisted.

'How is this?' asked the assassin, falling to his knees before Ia so they were of a like height.

'It is not time yet for Destruction to wrest me from this world. One may not kill that which is not meant yet to die.' Ia replied after he removed the blade and set it on the floor between the two of them.

'My blade ran you clear through! No man can survive such a terrible wound!'

'I do not fear wounds such as this, for I am held within the sphere of Preservation, and so long as this sphere surrounds me, so shall I continue to be. Where there is Being, there will be Destruction, but where there is Being, there cannot be Destruction.' Ia rose to his feet before the kneeling assassin and strode behind the man, placing a caring hand on the back of the man's bowed head. 'So long as you have a purpose and there is yet a reason for you to be, you shall persist, for your embrace of Being shall stave off Destruction, and the sphere will keep you hidden from its gaze, and your heart and life will remain safe from its deathly fingers, and the Gate will remain closed.'

'I do not understand. I lack the wisdom to grasp what you tell me.' Tears ran from the assassin's eyes, so moved was he by Ia's words. 'I beg your forgiveness. I was not told you were one of the learned and wise, only that you were one who upset the balance of things, and that you spread discord and lies meant to topple the foundations of our life.'

'A spider which clings to a bit of webbing cannot know whether that webbing is flat or tilted, for spiders are not meant to care about such things. Only the external viewer notices a crooked web, but the spider will always take offense should that viewer attempt to right it. But you ask forgiveness, and that I do grant you. Can you feel that your soul and spirit are cleansed of ignorance and that your mind is free of guilt?'

The assassin nodded his tear-streaked face in assent, and then Ia set the assassin free, so that the assassin might begin his journey anew after the sins of his present life had been swept away.

Ia and the Theologue

Ia and his disciples rested for their midday meal on the outskirts of a well-tended field near a small farmhouse. The owner of the land noticed the band, and he approached them. He took immediate notice of their bearing, so he doffed his hat and wrung it in his hands. 'Well met, travelers,' he said to them. His voice hitched and stammered, and then he grew silent in awe of Ia's strong presence.

'I greet you, as well,' Ia replied. 'You need not be so reserved among us, as we are well-met indeed, and we mean you no harm.'

'I know this,' said the landowner. 'But I have heard of you from other travelers, and no others could possibly match your description with such accuracy. It is said that you can work miracles in the name of some new and powerful god, one which outstrips the might evidenced by other priests.'

'The stories have warped in their retelling,' Ia told the landowner. 'The powers I wield and those nascent ones held by my followers stem from the purest Truth of things. It is a perversion and a lie to claim they are rooted in an entity, for that leashes them to a thing which may die.'

'Surely gods cannot die,' said the landowner, his voice riddled with doubt. 'The gods are immortal by dint of their divinity.'

'Do the gods wax and wane in their power?' Ia asked the landowner, and the landowner answered, 'I cannot say whether they do or not, for I have never seen or spoken to a god.'

'No, I suppose that you have not,' Ia said, and then Ia continued, 'But the powers of the followers of these others gods vary. At times they act with more potency than at others,' and the landowner nodded his agreement.

'The strengths of the men and women who follow these deities do not vary, so it must be the power of the gods to which they are leashed, and this power is lost and shattered if ever their god were to die.'

'It is said that gods cannot die,' the landowner repeated, and Ia responded, 'It is said to be so by the followers of those gods. They would say these things to occlude their vulnerability. But the Truth I deliver and share can and will stand beyond the death of all gods, and it might be held by the faithful regardless, and if the faithful all happen to perish, then it may be reborn by any soul which possesses the will and the wisdom to seek out the realms in which this power rests, and who wishes to be a founder of a new order.'

The landowner was convinced then by Ia's argument, and he gave Ia and his disciples many supplies for their journey, for he was a wealthy landowner with many fine head of cattle and lands to feed them, and then Ia blessed him and swore that the man's heirs would always hold highest esteem with his followers.

Ia and the Stonecarver

After they had found lodging and Ia's disciples were free to do as they wished for the day, a man who made his living by carving and sculpting stone hawked his wares from near a trolley he owned in a city Ia and his companions were visiting one afternoon. They were stone effigies of an uncaring goddess people in those lands worshiped at that time. While they were expertly crafted, their merest presence offended Ia's disciples who had gone out to wander the city's streets. Destair, chief among that group, approached the stonecutter and engaged him, but none of Destair's arguments could convince the stonecutter to relent in his beliefs nor cease in offering his idols for sale.

'Very well,' said Destair then, and he threw a purse fat with coins into the dirt at the stonecutter's feet. 'Here is enough to buy each and all of your carvings. Deliver them to me, for they are mine rightly purchased, and I may do with them as I will.'

But the stonecutter refused Destair's money, and although this obstinance did chafe at the disciple greatly, Destair feared violating the city's laws in pursuance of Ia's work. So when he, disappointed at his failure, returned to his lodging for the evening, Ia took immediate note of hia demeanor and asked, 'Why do you appear so troubled?'

'A man selling idols in the shape of a figmentary goddess refused to let me treat with him,' said Destair bitterly. 'When I offered him money to buy them off his cart, he refused me.'

'What would you have done with them?' Ia asked, and Destair replied, 'I would have fed each through the Gate of Danimoth in turn, until none remained, so awareness of his cruel matron would be lessened and her memory would grow so much closer to being forgotten.'

'And was he in fact an ardent of this matron as you claim?' Ia asked. 'Did he bear a sigil about his neck or upon his body which claimed him as hers and her as his?'

The disciple recalled the man's appearance for a moment. "None that I saw,' replied Destair.

'Then is it any wonder he reacted in this way?' Ia asked of his disciple. 'He is not inflexibly ardent in his belief, like some we have met. He is a man whose livelihood depends on the making and selling of stone crafts. His passion for his work prevents him from offering it up to those who would destroy it.'

'He profits through the perpetuation of lies,' Destair answered. 'And this deceptive behavior must never be condoned.'

'A man's ignorance is not his own fault if he has been deluded for his whole life. Offer all the chance of redemption and a glimpse at the truth. Do not tell anyone they must not create carvings of this stony woman or that one, but instead provide a chance to create carvings in the service of great ends which the enlightened recognize to be nobler.'

Ia and the Fisher

Ia and his disciples saw a fisherman in his boat upon a small lake early one morning, as the sun hovered just barely over the horizon and its light reflected off the water in a golden shimmer. The fisherman was hard at work setting his nets into the lake. He paddled his boat to and fro and once all of the weighted nets had been put into the water, he returned to the shore and climbed out of his boat to lay on his back in the shade below a tree.

Ia went to the fisherman and his disciples followed silently. The fisherman heard Ia's approach and looked up crossly. 'Leave me be, traveler,' he said. 'You'll find the road continues on for a short way to the northwest before you reach the village.'

'Is this village from where you hail?' Ia asked, and the fisherman answered, 'Not in the least, stranger. The folk there have queer notions of how one ought to life that do not mesh with my own.'

'And how is it that you feel you should live?' Ia asked the man, to which the fisher replied, 'Without interference from anyone or anything. My life is my own to experience without worry of others altering its course. Those who intrude upon it only wish to mold it to their benefit.'

'Why would you think this?' Ia asked in response. 'Surely not every one is intent on making you a means to an end.'

'It happened in this way with my father, who was once a wealthy and well-off man before he gave all that he owned to the residents of that village, after they begged him for aid and succor and then failed to return his generosity in any way but selfish chortles. My father perished a broken man who had lost everything. I learned well the lesson which these experiences offered me, and I am well finished with that lot of manipulators. Their village could burn to ashes and I would not shed any tears, unless they be of joy at learning of their deserved misfortune.'

'Your spite runs deep. Do you not worry that one day you will run afoul of danger and find none are there to help you in your time of need?' Ia asked the fisherman.

'There are no men like my father in this world, not any longer, and the world is better off for it,' retorted the fisher. 'Now leave me be, parasite, and go about sucking the vigor of men who are more recpetive to your cozying questions than me,' he added, and he then pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes and dismissed Ia.

'Holy Ia,' Destair said, who regarded the rude fisherman with a look of supreme contempt, 'it chafes me that you allow this scoundrel to mistreat you so, when you have never done any wrong, least of all to him.'

'His mind and outlook are warped by the very same traits he ascribes to the villagers,' Ia replied, and he stood near enough to the fisher that his words could be heard clearly. 'He berates others for egocentric thoughts and deeds but acts identically to them. Indeed, his sin is graver than that of the others, because he revels in it.'

The fisherman rose to his feet upon hearing Ia's words and balled his hands into fists. 'I will not be denigrated by such a pompous fool who feels he can judge me so casually!' and he swung a fist at Ia.

The blow struck Ia's left cheek with such force that Ia's head was turned askew for a moment, but Ia showed no pain. He then grasped the fisherman's wrist, and the man's flesh dissolved at the touch, leaving nothing behind. Ia ignored the man's pained whimpers as the curse spread, devouring not only the man's hand but also his arm and part of his shoulder. The stricken man fell to the earth, weakly writhing and bleeding out from the terrible wound, but Ia gestured again and the wound closed over, and the man stopped moving though he continued to breathe.

'You will find some measure of humility,' Ia told the barely conscious man, 'or you will find your continued spite will be the end of you.' Then Ia turned away from the fisherman and left him to his choice, and said to his disciples, 'You shall not act except in response to whichever harm is done, but when you act you must do so with decisive strength, that none may doubt your superiority or your strength.'

Ia and the Collector

Ia and his companions had traveled long through the countryside when they came upon a city. It lay behind high walls of yellow stone and its gates were tall and strong and made of wood and steel, and they were guarded well by serious men who watched Ia's passage with suspicion. They entered it to refresh themselves and to spread word of Ia's teachings to its populace, many of whom would be swayed by Ia's words. They walked along the tight, crowded streets in search of lodging, and as they wandered the streets, Ia and his disciples came upon two men talking excitedly with each other.

A merchant who owned a stall overflowing with trinkets and baubles made of precious metals and stones engaged with another man over what seemed to be a simple coin of silver. The man who desired it had his hands outstretched, and their palms were full of golden coins which he offered to the merchant in trade for the silver coin. 'Please, I must have it! Ten good gold coins for it, I beg!' he shouted in a voice reedy with desperation.

The merchant, no fool, made the exchange in but a heartbeat, and his expression belied the giddiness he felt despite his attempts to hide his feelings at having taken such shameless advantage of another man's folly. But the first man was quite distracted by his purchase, and he overlooked the smugness on the merchant's face. He turned his back on the merchant and walked away, cooing and whispering reassuring words to the coin as though it were his beloved before he placed it with reverance into a money pouch which hung at his waist.

Preston, one of Ia's disciples, spoke then, and he asked, "Holy One, what would drive a man to trade one thing for another, even losing ninety-nine parts of its value in the exchange?'

'When we face questions, all we need do is ask the proper questions to attain their answers. Let us ask this man of his reasons, and thus shall we learn,' Ia replied, and he approached the man and said to him, 'Good stranger, I noticed the zeal with which you exchanged ten coins of good gold for a single, meager silver one. Might I look upon this coin to see for myself if it deserves so eager a treatment?'

The man who had fervently hidden away his treasure looked upon Ia and scowled, but when Ia repeated his request the man did as bade. He drew the coin out with a braod smile and held it up for Ia to view. Ia gestured to his disciples, and they gathered close to study it. It was a silver coin not unlike any other, though its stamp was strange and foreign. None of Ia's disciples had seen its like, despite coming from disparate lands.

Ia nodded to the man, and the man replaced the coin in his pouch as Ia asked, 'What thoughts went through your mind in making this trade?'

'I have treasured coins like this for ever. I am a wealthy man, it is true, but I would give up all my wealth to gather all coins stamped like this. There is a legend which holds that if one gathers all coins minted with this crest, he shall receive a wish of his choosing!' The man chuckled triumphantly. 'Once I have done this, I will have recouped my wealth many times over!'

Ia thanked the man for his candor, then turned and walked away with his disciples following. Destair said to him, 'That man is a great fool. Why would he not keep what wealth he has and use it in ways to attain what he knows to be true and real and safe, rather than chasing dreams based on hearsay and legend which are unlikely to be attained?'

Ia replied to him: 'Foolishness in pursuit of a fantastic goal is always excusable to one's self, yet remains apparent to all others,' and the matter was ended.

Ia and the Maiden

Ia and his disciples heard sobbing coming from near the bank of a small river. They investigated its source and found a young woman kneeling in the mud, her face buried in her hands as she wept. 'What is wrong, my child?' Ia asked her, walking down towards the riverbank to kneel upon the mud, next to her.

The maiden would not look up at Ia, but her strained voice croaked, 'I was hoping to be chosen as the avatar of my village's goddess at a festival we hold this evening. Another was selected instead of me.'

'Is this all?' Ia asked her. The maiden looked up at him then and wiped her tears away with the back of his hand. She did not speak, and so Ia spoke instead: 'You have brought pain upon yourself for something which is no fault of your own. You allow sensations of loss and betrayal to overcome those of joy and of freedom.'

'What freedom do I have?' asked the maiden. 'What meaning does my life have, if I may not be the chosen form of my goddess made flesh?'

'Listen carefully to me, my child,' said Ia with patience. 'You must learn to accept suffering, if you choose remain devoted to your uncaring matron. To live beneath her yoke is to suffer. You seek escape from this suffering, but will you do what is needed to free yourself from the venom-laced chains that bind your soul? You yearn for escape, but will you do this knowing your current lot is less frightening, falsely comforting, instead of facing down the lies you have been taught and embracing the truth of things?

'Your acceptance is surrender. To surrender to suffering is a sin, and the guilt you feel is brought by subtle awareness of this sin. This sin delivers nothing to you but loss, setbacks, and failures, both those you experience and those of the ones close to you. You must accept them, and then you must learn to embrace them, or you must cast them away. When you hold certain pains close to your heart and cloak yourself in them, they will shield you from other, direr pains which may yet come. But those pains will never become your pains. They will remain always at a distance, used as weapons to restrict you. I ask, my child, will you do what you must to claim your pain as your own, to own it and become well through its agonizing revelation?'

The maiden heard Ia's words, but she did not cease her sobbing. She plunged deeper into the river, begging forgiveness from a deity that would not heed her words, as Ia rejoined his disciples. They continued on their way and left the maiden to reach what redemption she would.

Ia and the Thunderstorm

Ia and his disciples found themselves traveling some distance from any nearby village when a mighty storm swept across the skies in a blanket of gray. So fierce was the storm that Ia's disciples could not continue with their journey, and they sought a haven to protect them from nature's wrath. Their salvation was a small copse of willow trees which grew in a glen nearby the road, their swaying tops visible over the small valley's lip. Ia guided his followers to that cluster of trees, which would afford them some protection from the driving rain.

As lightning danced among the gathered clouds and sheets of water fell from the sky, Ia's disciples felt their spirits flag. Creassin approached Ia, who was unfazed by the cold rain, loud thunder, and weakening morale. The disciple asked him, 'Holy Ia, cannot you undo this terrible storm by hastening it along its destined course to sputter out and fall through the Gate of Danimoth which lay open before it, so it can pass through to Destruction and spare us this misery?'

Ia replied in a tone which was as placid as the storm was ferocious. 'Does this small measure of hardship chafe at you? The path you were meant to tread was never meant to be one free of strife and obstacle.'

Creassin shook his head. 'No, Holy Ia, the chill and wet and tumult do not stir worry in my soul. Rather, I ask you because this foul weather hinders our travels and retards the spread of the truth of all things.'

'Sit here and wait with me,' Ia bade the disciple, and Creassin sat upon one of the knobby willow roots which surged up from the soil. A short time passed, and then the sound of other men splashing through the mud and puddles drew near.

Four men clad in armor and carrying weapons of war descended down the glen's sloping wall leading four powerful horses. They were surprised at the sight of Ia and his disciples, but one of the men greeted them with confident cheer. 'A terrible thing, this storm. All travelers come together under boughs during such times, be they of a roof or of a simple tree,' said the man.

Ia acknowledged him with a nod. 'You are worn down from your arduous journey. Creassin, give up your place so this man may rest his weary feet for a while as he waits out this storm.' Ia's disciple did as he was asked, and the strange man seated himself with a look of relief and a word of thanks.

Ia and the man spoke then, first of the small talk which all travelers exchange, but the conversation soon moved to matters of weight and importance, and Ia shared his boundless wisdom with the man who listened with rapt attention, he could do scant else in light of the storm's mighty presence. The man was much pleased by what he heard, for Ia's words rang with truth and scoured away the man's mistaken beliefs that other, weaker, powers could control his life through their laws and their calls to action and their trickery and their secrecy.

As the storm began at last to abate, the man rose from his seat and said to Ia, 'You have proved knowledgeable on matters of the soul and things beyond the material, Wise Stranger. Your king is well-pleased with you,' for he was the lord which tamed the wild lands around his city and keep which he called Clensa after himself. He turned to one of his companions and said, 'See that this man receives an endowment from our treasury, so that he might build a church and shrine in our city and use this place to spread his teachings to all corners of our kingdom, that we might grow wiser and stronger than all other places.'

The man who was king left Ia then to resume his journey along the road, and Ia sent one of his other disciples who was a crafter and worker of stone with him to oversee the construction of the temple which the king had promised. 'See that only the finest masons work at laying the stones,' Ia told him, 'for this building will stand in the king's city until the end of days.' The stoneworker bowed before Ia and swore to follow his teacher's instructions, and he joined the four men in their travels.

Once the men had moved beyond Ia's sight, Ia turned back to Creassin and said, 'The hindrance is no more. Let us now be on our way again.' So Ia and his disciples returned to the muddy road and resumed their wandering.

Ia and the Gravedigger

Ia and his disciples traveled through the mountains, and they drew near to a valley where a small village lay. They heard echoing shouts and jeers coming from the valley, and Ia bade his disciples change their course from the main road. As they descended to the valley, they entered the village square and saw all its residents gathered there, around a pyre which had been constructed. A man, his body streaked with blood and dirt, was lashed to a stake in the middle of this pyre, and the villagers were leading a chant which seemed to mock and deride him as they threw his belongings upon the pyre to burn with him.

'What is going on here?' asked Ia of one of the men nearest to the pyre, who cavorted in a cloak limned with red feathers and who waved a lit torch through the air in a dreadful pattern.

'This man is a gravedigger, and he has brought a curse upon our village and our lands!' the man answered. 'The bodies which he was given to be interred do not remain buried within the earth, but rise from the grave as a foul plague which murders our friends and families and lays waste to our crops!'

Ia studied the cloaked man for but a second, then snatched the torch from his hand and extinguished it. 'This man is not guilty of any crime, and you condemn him falsely. Free him at once, and you shall be told the truth of things. Continue with this mockery and the plague and misery you experience will be magnified one hundred fold.'

The cloaked man drew himself up and demanded of Holy Ia, 'Who are you, stranger, to speak of our ways and traditions suchly? Sacrifice must be made of the one who calls the dead from their graves!'

'This man is not the cause of your woes. He shall not suffer for a crime of which he is innocent.' Ia's stern voice shook the cloaked man's spirits, and the villagers relented in their grisly ceremony to the last man, and the gravedigger was freed. The man fell to his knees and gave thanks, for he recognized the power and the grace which filled Ia and which had spared his life. 'Tell me, Holy Ia, how may I repay the debt of my life which you have given me?' the gravedigger asked, weeping.

Ia laid a hand upon the man's forehead, blessing and marking him as one of his Chosen, and then bade him to rise. 'You shall commit yourself to traveling for the rest of your days, seeking out others who inter the deceased, and you will tell them that they shall share that burden with my disciples across all the land. The dead will not find their immortal souls cursed by burial in the earth, or shackled through immersion in the waters, or consigned to flames. I and my disciples will shepherd their journey to the realm which waits beyond the Destruction of the body, and in this way will their souls be rightly placed and not mishandled.'

The gravedigger regained his feet, claimed the few things he possessed which were not yet destroyed by the gathered crowd, and set off along the road to begin the quest with great purpose, and he labored at his task as Ia had commanded for the remainder of his life.

Ia and the Sportsmen

Ia and his disciples came upon the ruins of a village one day. The mud-brick walls and crude doors of the residents of this place had been smashed in and lay in shambles, and signs of violence were everywhere, evidenced in blood and bodies. Some of Ia's disciples were sickened at the sight and could explore no further, but Preston and Creassin were strong enough to venture deeper into the carnage alongside their tutor.

As they followed a dirt road rutted with drag marks, they could hear guttural shouts coming from nearby. Some of the raiders yet remained, and some of the villagers yet lived. Brutish and hulking were these creatures, larger than a man by a full arm-span, and their faces bore broad muzzles from which crooked, yellow teeth jutted. Their eyes were deep-set, bleary, and red-black in coloration, like the Breath of Destruction which Ia could conjure. Some carried over-sized spears, others gnarled logs studded with wooden stakes or iron spikes, and some more bestial members of the group nothing more than their strong, clawed hands.

The creatures cheered, for two of their ilk were playing at a perverse game. Smeared in muds colored blue-gray and red-yellow, they each carried a bound and helpless villager which they hefted by the legs and swung with all their might. The heads of the two victims crashed together in sprays of blood and gore, and the creatures cheered anew while one, larger than all the rest and clad in armor made of black metal, watched from a throne sized to its dimensions.

Preston and Creassin were shaken by the sight, though Ia remained unflinching, and their sounds of disgust, though muffled, were loud enough to catch the attention of the creatures. The leader did not rise from his throne, but his armor creaked like the hinges upon Destruction's Gate as he shifted in his seat, and his band readied themselves to fall upon Ia.

'You shall stop this,' Ia commanded them all, and so they did, hunching down in the bloody, churned dirt like dogs. Their leader fixed Ia with his baleful gaze, and his voice echoed from within the plate helmet on its broad head. 'What deludes you to the misbegotten belief that you may command my horde, wanderer? Come closer, that I need to reach less for my great sword to cut you in half.'

'You know well what I am,' Ia replied, and he inclined his head slightly to the seated figure.

The great suit of armor creaked again as the giant on the throne regarded Ia. After a moment's consideration, he leaned back and spoke with disinterest. 'Then begone from here, and leave my horde to its sport. It is justly gained through blood and battle, and you shall not lessen their pleasure and reward, nor my own,' said the armored hulk.

'I come to advise you, not to chastise you. You draw attention with your games, and you fling the Gate wide open in doing so. You will be diminished overmuch if you persist, for you draw the attention of Destruction, and not even you can resist it.'

'Your words are heard but go unheeded. My kind will do as it pleases because none may stop me, least of all you. Or will you match your might to mine here and now?'

Ia looked on for a moment, then nodded and said, 'Return then to your games. Enjoy what potency lies within your grasp while you may. Your throne will lie in shards and you will be ended, through no cause but your own folly.'

'And I hope to bring as many weaklings who roam the forests and fields and hills with me as my folly enables, when it does.' The brute laughed and gestured to his horde, and they fetched another pair of fearful prisoners to resume their game.

Ia turned then and strode away, and his disciples followed in silence. At least one of them spoke: 'Holy Ia,' Preston asked in a voice which trembled with nausea and fear, 'what manner of demon or beast must be seated upon that coal-black throne, that you cannot do what is necessary to save those poor souls from torture and ugly death at the hands of those monsters?'

'To interfere overmuch with Destruction will cause little more than strife and greater Destruction, for now Destruction's eye will be fixed not only upon its original goal but onto you as well,' Ia said. 'Destruction devours all, even itself, and drawing the attention of what lies beyond the Gate is not worth any price, even for those like me. Never venture there, and do what must be done to prevent any from flinging the gate open at any point before the exact time that they themselves are meant pass through.'

These words did Ia give, and this advice did his disciples heed.

Ia and the Bridge

Ia and his disciples came upon an arched bridge of finely-cut and -mortared stone in their travels which spanned a wide and fast-rushing river. Though strong, the bridge was narrow and only wide enough for one person to cross at one time, and there was no other way to cross the wide river. Ia and his disciples were the only travelers on the road this day, but the way over the bridge was barred by a donkey which stood at the height of the bridge's arch, looking out over the river. When they approached the donkey, the creature stood unmoving and unafraid in their path, paying them no mind as it continued gazing over the river's clear waters.

'Shall I move this beast which hinders our passage?' asked Creassin of his teacher.

'Do as you see fit,' replied Ia. 'But cause no harm to this donkey. It has as much right to this bridge as do we travelers, and it has done us no wrong by its mere presence.'

'How can this be, my master?" asked Ia's disciple Destair. 'It is an ignorant beast, unable to raise itself to even the barest level of enlightenment which has been given over to men and women most freely and stands as our claim above all other creatures. It should bend to our wills and do our bidding without question or hesitation.'

'What should be and what is are two different matters,' said Ia. 'One day, perhaps, all will come to understand the true order of things, and all will stand in its allotted place within the Wheels of Being and labor full-well to further its works to their best ability. But that time is not yet upon us, and we must first bring all to understand their role before all will be as planned.'

'And how shall we accomplish this great task, Master?' asked Preston, who ever was curious as to how Ia's teachings might be spread with greater speed and efficacy, and whose zeal to uphold Ia's teachings exceeded that of his peers.

'This is not of concern to us at this moment,' replied Ia placidly. 'First we must move past this donkey.'

Ia and the Gravedigger

Ia and his disciples traveled through the mountains, and they drew near to a valley where a small village lay. They heard echoing shouts and jeers coming from the valley, and Ia bade his disciples change their course from the main road. As they descended to the valley, they entered the village square and saw all its residents gathered there, around a pyre which had been constructed. A man, his body streaked with blood and dirt, was lashed to a stake in the middle of this pyre, and the villagers were leading a chant which seemed to mock and deride him as they threw his belongings upon the pyre to burn with him.

'What is going on here?' asked Ia of one of the men nearest to the pyre, who cavorted in a cloak limned with red feathers and who waved a lit torch through the air in a dreadful pattern.

'This man is a gravedigger, and he has brought a curse upon our village and our lands!' the man answered. 'The bodies which he was given to be interred do not remain buried within the earth, but rise from the grave as a foul plague which murders our friends and families and lays waste to our crops!'

Ia studied the cloaked man for but a second, then snatched the torch from his hand and extinguished it. 'This man is not guilty of any crime, and you condemn him falsely. Free him at once, and you shall be told the truth of things. Continue with this mockery and the plague and misery you experience will be magnified one hundred fold.'

The cloaked man drew himself up and demanded of Holy Ia, 'Who are you, stranger, to speak of our ways and traditions suchly? Sacrifice must be made of the one who calls the dead from their graves!'

'This man is not the cause of your woes. He shall not suffer for a crime of which he is innocent.' Ia's stern voice shook the cloaked man's spirits, and the villagers relented in their grisly ceremony to the last man, and the gravedigger was freed. The man fell to his knees and gave thanks, for he recognized the power and the grace which filled Ia and which had spared his life. 'Tell me, Holy Ia, how may I repay the debt of my life which you have given me?' the gravedigger asked, weeping.

Ia laid a hand upon the man's forehead, blessing and marking him as one of his Chosen, and then bade him to rise . 'You shall commit yourself to traveling for the rest of your days, seeking out others who inter the deceased, and you will tell them that they shall share that burden with my disciples across all the land. The dead will not find their immortal souls cursed by burial in the earth, or shackled through immersion in the waters, or consigned to flames. I and my disciples will shepherd their journey to the realm which waits beyond the Destruction of the body, and in this way will their souls be rightly placed and not mishandled.'

The gravedigger regained his feet, claimed the few things he possessed which were not yet destroyed by the gathered crowd, and set off along the road to begin the quest with great purpose, and he labored at his task as Ia had commanded for the remainder of his life.

Ia and the Adversary

Ia and his disciples took notice of a round tower which stood upon a high hill overlooking the road. Ia's disciples looked upon it with awe, for they had never seen a construction quite like this. It was not a practical tower meant to hold warriors and keep roads safe, but its crown bristled with spires and whorls of stone that seemed impossible in their geometry.

'What portend does this structure hold, Holy Ia?' asked Preston of his mentor, and Ia responded, 'If you are curious, then let us learn.'

So Ia and his disciples turned from their path and walked in the direction of the tower. They scaled the hill and approached its entrance, which lay at the top of a short flight of steps. A man sat upon those steps, and his attention was held by a book in his hands, in which he wrote with a stick of charcoal. He raised a hand in greeting to Ia and his disciples as they approached, and he addressed them with respect, but he did not look up from his tome as he did so.

'This is a curious structure,' Ia said to the man. 'And my disciples are curious how it came to be. It is not made in the same manner as are other works of stone crafted by the hands of men. How did you come to make it so?'

The man who continued writing said, 'It was not I who made this, but someone far greater, who has grasped all mysteries of this world and come to understand them through long and careful study, and through that understanding he may now take the world and reshape it as he wishes.'

'No man can do such a thing,' Ia's disciple Destair interrupted, his voice wrothful. 'All are bound to the Wheel of Being. Your master is a charlatan who peddles false hopes.'

The writing man shrugged and dismissed Destair's words. 'Believe what you wish, but his power is exceptional. He will grow greater than even the gods, for his powers derive from the intellect of men and are not reliant upon the whims of other beings, and his teachings may be recorded and passed down to all who wish to learn. Through the sharing of endless knowledge shall men be freed from the shackles of the spirit and the soul.'

Destair's anger grew, and he prepared to strike the insolent man for his blasphemy, but Ia stayed his hand, saying, 'It is not a time now to act out. The foundations upon which this tower stands go deep and stand strong, but this edifice will topple and fall as do all others, once Destruction fixes its baleful eye upon its stones.' Ia gazed down at the writing man, and even the writing man could not resist looking up to take note of and admire Ia's radiance. 'The keeper of this tower will secure the end of his realm and all realms through his hubris. The very mysteries he seeks to unravel will be used against him and his descendents after they are recorded. Knowledge does not care into whose hands it falls.'

'We librarians treat the secrets we unlock with care and reverence. The unfitted are barred from learning their secrets,' replied the writing man.

'You said these words yourself: "Through the sharing of endless knowledge shall men be freed." Shared knowledge remains shared, even after the one who gains it may no longer be worthy of its possession.' With these words, Ia turned on his heel and left the tower, which his disciples now knew to be a bastion of corruption and vice, and they did never return to that place.

Ia and the Tower

Ia and his disciples traveled along a country road one day, when they came into a great shadow which cloaked them. In the distance, they could see a tower which stood tall and wide, larger than any structure built before or since, and the whole of the road was covered in the shadow cast from its great bulk. Men continued to labor at constructing it, carrying stones from many miles distant to set them in place and grow the tower yet more.

When the masons and artisans noticed Ia approach, they stopped their work and prostrated themselves before him to receive his blessing, which Ia gladly gave.

'I see that you build a tower. What purpose does this tower hold?' Ia asked the builder who held the other men in his charge.

The builder stated with pride, 'The tower is to be a place of safety and surety for travelers, from which brave men may watch over the road to keep those traveling all along its length safe.'

'Do you not feel that the tower is tall enough?' Ia asked. 'It is so vast that it places a great stretch of this road in its shadow.'

'We shall not stop building until all the length of this road is safe, Holy Ia,' said the builder.

'This road joins with three other roads at a junction some miles distant. Would you also watch over those three roads?'

The builder thought for a moment, then he answered with confidence, 'Yes, we should, of course. Those roads become this road where they meet, so when they separate, do they not remain the same road?'

Ia placed a hand on the man's head and blessed him once more. 'You grasp some of the truth of things. But, if those three other roads each met three other roads, surely you would then need to protect those roads as well?'

'If that is the case, then I suppose we must," responded the builder, though now doubt crept into his voice.

'And if those roads each met three others?'

The builder grew despondent as he recognized the hopelessness of the task he has set before himself. 'I see, Holy Ia. I shall order this tower torn down, since it may never accomplish the purpose for which it was meant.'

Ia looked skyward, to the top of the tower far overhead. 'Why would you do this? As it stands, it is a fine tower. You began the building with desire, though not with understanding. Had you not gained this understanding, you would have spent the remainder of your life in pursuit of an impossible goal. The zealot knows when to begin a task, but the one who shackles zealotry beneath the guidance of his wisdom is he who knows when a task has reached its end, and must be considered complete. All things must end, for without an end there cannot be a beginning to something new.'

So Ia and his disciples left the builder and his tower, which now stood finished.