Bhikkhu
[POV: Amon]
His fist was a hammer, pounding on the temple doors.
It struck. And paused. And struck. And paused.
It found my heartbeat; defied it, embraced it. Became one with it.
I opened my eyes.
The blind monk put a hand on my shoulder. "Stay here," he said, leaving to greet whomever had arrived.
A few moments later, I heard the shuffle of feet and a familiar voice calling my name.
"Amon! I have found you at last!"
Turning around, I saw Hiroshi Sato standing before me. And in an instant, I knew.
I did not rise to greet him, but instead turned back to face the shrine.
"I should have thought of coming here first," Sato mused.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
He hesitated. Chose his words.
"My leader, I must speak to you. I can no longer keep this from you. I have made a terrible mistake."
I gazed at the candles, the bright glow of their steady flames.
The confession came out of him like a torrent.
"For weeks, I have been aiding the Lieutenant and his faction. Not only have I helped them in their acts of terrorism, but I have also been plotting with the Lieutenant behind your back. To my great shame, I have pretended to be loyal to you, only to better serve my own interests. You see, I was never fully convinced that the Lieutenant's path is the one the Equalists should follow. But I found that my faith in you had also faltered. So I resolved to serve two masters, adopting the ways of the hypocrite."
Mortals. Their will is weak; their loyalty, transient.
"Why do you tell me all this, Mr. Sato? To ease your conscience?"
"No," he whimpered. "No, I am here, because I don't know what else to do but to ask for your help. I spoke to the Lieutenant this morning. Tomorrow, he wants to launch an attack on the entire city. His first target will be the Council..."
"How would such a thing be accomplished?"
"I... I've been designing new machines, Amon. Air ships. With them, he wants to bombard Republic City, set it on fire. He wants to drive out all benders, so that the Equalists may take control."
"It is madness."
"It is a plan that I approved of. But only because I thought that, somehow, the innocent would be spared. I gave his faction full access to my backup weapons factory, just outside the city. But this morning, he revealed his true intentions to me. When I asked him how we would proceed to save our own kind, what would happen to the non-benders that would be caught in the crossfire, he said that in a war like this..."
He stopped, trying to compose himself.
"That in a war like this, collateral damage is inevitable. That those who will not survive will serve as sacrifice, in the name of victory..."
I sat still, as in meditation. What was there to say?
Sato placed himself in front of me, demanding a reaction. Feeling lonely in his anguish.
"Will you do nothing about it, my leader?" he cried. "You must, you simply must. I cannot stop them now, it is too late. But perhaps if you... if you spoke to them, or..."
The monk seized him.
"This is a temple. Do not raise your voice in here," he said.
"Amon, listen to me. Will you do nothing?"
He struggled to free himself from the monk's grasp.
"Please, forgive me, my leader. Save us, save us all!"
He deifies me now, as the Lieutenant once did. But out of hopelessness.
"You must leave," the monk urged him.
"Amon! Say something! Answer me! Will you do nothing?"
I suddenly removed my mask, showing him my scars. Stunned, he brought his hand over his mouth.
"Look at me, Mr. Sato," I said. "Is this the face of your saviour? The farce has run its course. Tomorrow, this city will burn."
Pulled away by the monk, Sato continued to shout through the courtyard, until I heard the doors close and finally shut him out.
The deafening noise of this realm. How it obscures divine thought.
I could barely swallow. Betrayal parched my throat, felt so hot in my lungs.
The monk walked back inside. He dragged a stool to the middle of the room and invited me to sit down.
"Let us begin," he said, and I rose.
The blade slipped, cutting my scalp. I squeezed my eyes shut. A thread of warm blood streamed down my forehead. The blind monk apologized. My hair had not grown very long, but for a man in his condition, it made no difference. It was difficult for him to shave my head all by himself. We were alone. No other monk could hear of this ceremony. It was far too irregular. It had been granted to me out of compassion, but also, out of personal belief in my merit.
When the first step was completed, I got rid of my war clothes, put my mask aside. I approached the monk with a set of robes in my hands. I had requested that they be dark gray. I bowed three times, then handed them over. I recited the prescribed passage, and he carefully helped me put on the robes.
The inner robe.
The upper robe.
The outer robe.
I felt the incensed fabric wrap around my body, covering my mortal flesh. Covering the signs of my self-loathing.
I asked for my ordination as a novice, took the three refuges. Guided by the monk, I spoke the ten precepts, as was required.
The monk became my preceptor, but he did not give me a new name. Rather, he only declared it as such.
My name, which I had given up to the spirits, was renewed.
I claimed it back.
Amon.
Then, the higher ordination began.
For my preceptor found me worthy.
His voice echoed through the temple as he spoke. It was both a whisper and a roar.
I stood up with my palms together, answered all his questions.
Are you a human being?
Are you a man?
Are you a free man?
"Yes, Venerable Sir," I declared.
I was free, for the chains that rattled around me were not chains of the mind.
The monk retreated to examine my case. I waited anxiously. When he came back, he told me:
"Now is the time, Amon, to request the Sangha to ordain you a bhikkhu."
My heart soared. I approached, bowed three times, kneeled with my hands together.
"Sangham Bhante upsampadam yacami.
Ullumpatu mam bhante Sangho anukampam upadaya.
Dutiyampi Sangham bhante..."
My father had once told me that a man is free in the way he chooses to face his fate.
That he can stand with his head up high, even before Death.
That is why he was quiet as the savage fire devoured him.
And that is why I refused to give the evil spirits the body of an unholy man.
"Venerable Sir," I spoke, "I respectfully request the Sangha to ordain me a bhikkhu."
No questions from an assembly, no obstacles. Only silence. Acceptance.
My preceptor spoke one last time.
Behold, I am changing myself, before they change me.
My own transformation, before that of the spirits.
Stillness. I finally looked up, and exhaled.
I had become a bhikkhu.
What is the cause of all suffering in the world?
The old monk bowed respectfully before the new monk.
"Your life, from now on, aims to achieve liberation from suffering. Whether it is your own, or the world's," he said, handing me back my mask and getting ready to sound the bell gong in my honour.
That evening, I kept a promise I had never truly made.
Leaning through her window, I looked upon her.
A strange flicker in her eyes. Of both fear and desire.
"You... you've come after all," Asami said.
My robes fluttered about me in the wind. I pulled the cloth further over my head.
For the first time in years, I felt serene, untroubled. There was such warmth in my soul.
"What are you wearing?"
I did not reply. I stared at her for a short while, then broke the silence.
"You said you wanted to see me one last time", I said, preparing to vault over.
I can feel them, drawing nearer with the night.
"But I think it is rather I who needed to see you again, Morning Beauty."