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.'