Verily, there is a one who chants invocations and seeks aid to push a sled, how could those who wish to help possibly turn their backs on such a request? When a weary traveler seeks refuge for a night and requests aid, could there be anyone cruel enough to harshly reject them? Is there truly anyone in this world who would invite a guest into their home and not generously offer them a warm meal?
One must treat guests with great generosity.
For indeed, it is because one desires to be treated well when they themselves are a guest.
—
Swish.
—
And so, Jinseong readily pushed the sled.
For surely, one who seeks kindness must also give it, and one who expects hospitality must first offer it. Such is the golden principle. And so, when one seeking magic asks for help with their magic, it is indeed proper and just to assist them. How could those who are thirsty for magic turn their backs on those burning with the same desire? Indeed, could it ever truly be possible? Is it even reasonable to shun assistance? Could you truly turn away your aid? And for a being, violent and filled with attachment and desire, which roams this world, could they ever resist?
—
And thus, Jinseong pushed the sled, sending Kenneth tumbling down the slope.
The sled, carrying the old man, gained speed down the incline and slid as if skimming the surface of molten lava, much like a skier upon snow.
—
Squeak.
—
Wherever the wood touched, wherever it passed, thin shimmering trails of light were left behind. Exposed magma gleamed brightly, flowing across the ground like a terrestrial mockery of the Milky Way in the heavens. Though far thinner than the luminous threads of Hera, the ancient goddess, it was too thick and extended to be likened to the fragile threads spun by a woman transformed into a spider. No, this was the work of human hands and an echo of the divine in human imitation—a slender but essence-bound facsimile.
Ah, this is a river.
A river, crafted in humanity’s imitation.
Though resembling a brook in size, it carries the grandeur of a river, and so this molten path flows as one.
—
Down the molten river of the silver galactic path, Kenneth sailed smoothly.
With a sound like “tsk,” the flames trailing behind the sled carved marks in the air and left ripples of fiery red imprints on the lava as it sailed forward.
—
Just as the sled leaves tracks upon the snow, the one who rides it, a figure exactly alike in spirit, moves with such agility.
O Goddess of Snow, fairest of all goddesses, are you satisfied?
Here, a stranger rides upon a sled borrowed from you, speeding forth.
Oh mighty challenger, made for such a spectacle, unmatched in his fervor, rides before you. With this sled’s velocity upon the river of magma, such a warrior’s boldness is unparalleled in offering homage to you. How could they not laud your beauty to the highest heavens? Surely, it is not a mere whim, but the fervent will to praise and exalt your divine form that drives them. O Goddess, behold this humble, valiant stranger from the other side of the volcano, and extend your blessing upon them!
—
“Bless!”
—
Jinseong, as if overcome with admiration, repeatedly bowed and then straightened up again. He flung his arms skyward and shifted his feet as if unable to keep them still for an instant. Kicking the frozen ground as if trying to shatter it, he stomped heavily, making cracks in the ice as he leapt around. His arms were raised high, and his body spun slowly and wildly in leaps. His movements bore a resemblance to those of a spiritual practitioner invoking spirits into their limbs, creating an illusion akin to witnessing an ancient shaman of religious rites.
—
And then Jinseong, in an instant, halted his movements.
He bowed his head deeply and raised his hands to grasp his hair.
—
From the grasp of his head, his hands moved downward.
He pulled down on his own ponytail as he lowered his head.
With his head bowed to the utmost extent, his hands began to tousle and dishevel his neatly arranged hair, scattering it wildly.
Thus, Jinseong’s hair took on the appearance of a madman’s.
—
Then.
—
“Pha pa chi tah du sta chi tah lau dra pa pa chi tah bi dve sa chi tah a ma i tra chi tah ut pa da yan ti ki la yan ti man tra yan ti jha pan ti jo han ti oj a ha ra ha ru da ha ra ma da ha ra mang sa ha ra ma zza ha ra jha ta ha ra ji vi ta ha ra bal ya ha ra gan da ha ra pus pa ha ra pa la ha ra sa s ya ha ra pa pa chi tah du sta chi tah….”
—
As though declaiming in an unknown dialect, words of great variance in pitch and at an astonishing speed began to pour forth.
—
“La u dra chi tah de va gra ha na ga gra ha yak sha gra ha ra ksasa gra ha a su ra gra ha ga ru da gra ha kin da ra gra ha ma ho ra gra ha pre ta gra ha pi sa cha gra ha bu ta gra ha kum pan da gra ha s kan da gra ha un man da gra ha cha ya gra ha a pa sma ra gra ha da ka da ki ni gra ha le va ti gra ha za ka gra ha sa ku ni gra ha man tra nan di ka gra ha a bam ba gra ha ha nu kan ta pa ni gra ha dzy ba ra i ka hi ka dva yt ti a ka tra yi ti a ka cha tu rt ta ka dzy ba ra….”
—
In the dark forest.
The words he muttered, exhaling mist even at this untimely moment, were soaked with a chilling aura.
It felt less like praying to someone and more like performing some form of malevolent ritual.
So it was that Jinseong’s posture, with his bowed head and disheveled hair as he whispered his invocation, exuded an unsettling aura far removed from the human.
—
“Nit ya dzy ba ra b sa ma dzy ba ra ba ti ka pai ti ka sre smi ka sam ni pa ti ka sar va dzy ba ra si ror ti ar da a ba ba da ka ak si ro ga h mu ka ro ga h khr da ro ga h ga la su ram kar na su ram dan ta su ram khr da ya su ram mar ma su ram par sv a su ram prs ta…”
—
The invocation continued.
—
“Su ram u dar a su ram ka ti su ram bas ta su ram u ru su ram ja ng a su ram hast a su ram pad a su ram sar bang ga tra t ang ga su ram bu ta be ta da da ki ni ji va ra…”
—
The pace quickened with the invocation.
—
“…da du ru kan du ki ti ba ru ta bai sar pa ro ha ling ga h su sa tr sa ka ra b sa a ka a g ni u da ka ma ra bi ra kan ta ra a ki ra mr tu tr y am bu ka tr ai ra ta…”
—
Just like Kenneth riding the sled down the slope, the pace quickened.
—
And finally.
—
“Br chi ka sa r pa na ku ra sim ha b ya g rl ar ks a tr ak sa ca ma ra ji va s te sam sar ve sam si ta ta pa tra ma ha ba zr os ni sam mah a pr a ty ang gir am ya vat dba da sa yo za nab dyan ta re na vi d ya van dam ka lomi sam sa van dam di sa van dam ka lomi pa ra vi d ya van dam ka lomi te jo van dam ka lomi hast a van dam ka lomi pad a van dam ka lomi sar bang ga pr a t yung gat ad ya ta om a na re vi sa de vi ra ba z ra da re van da van da ni ba z ra pa ni pa tdt rum pa rt sva ha na mo sa ta ta ga ta ya su ga ta ya ar ha ne sam yok sam bu d a ya si t tam tu man tra pa da sva ha.”
—
It was as though his breathing had ceased entirely as he continued spewing forth words at blinding speed.
—
Ah, it was as if one were watching a broken doll.
A broken doll vomiting forth endless words without a single breath.
—
Look at that disheveled hair.
Look at that deeply bowed head.
The head, moving slowly upwards after having been buried in the shadow of the ground, now sought to reveal a face long hidden in darkness.
—
And so, with the head returned to its original position and the face now revealed.
—
Ah!
Behold that ghastly complexion!
The skin is devoid of all blemish, glowing with a pure whiteness like porcelain under the moonlight!
—
Both eye holes lacked pupils, filled instead with an intense void of scarlet, while a gaping mouth revealed a perfect row of teeth extending to its edges. The nose seemed to have rotted away entirely, leaving only a faint trace. The crimson gums were lined with a row of white teeth, split unnaturally wide in a bizarre smile.
—
The headband worn around his head was adorned with five green and red beads.
Above the beads hung a skull, its expression an eerie grin, an exact replica of his own face.
—
“པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!པདྨ་འབྱུང་གནས स्वाहा!”
—
Ah, the skull-like visage roars with invocation.
Chanting and rechanting the name of Padmasambhava, who transformed his face in such a manner.
With his fingers scraping against the skull-like features, molten by the scorching waters formed from melted eyes, he continues to chant the name of Padmasambhava without end…
