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.