A/N: Hello, I am back with a new chapter. While writing it, I considered making this one a two-parter but decided against it, so enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I wish I would own those two...in my dreams.
Sunlight painted fiery streaks across the sky as it sank toward the mountains. Bells and chimes rang throughout the Tiger Shrine, creating a melodic tone.
Carrie leaned on the barrier, viewing the terrain from the shrine's exposed wall. Although she was wearing layers, the frigid air stung the stab wound on her back. She massaged the injury until light steps echoed in the courtyard.
Jago perched on a bench beside her, holding two baskets. "You must be hungry." He gestured to one of them. "Please. Eat."
Stepping away from the railing, Carrie took the container and thanked him. She sat at the opposite end of the bench. After removing the lid, her brows tightened. In Chamberlain, her diet revolved around 'God's food.' She recalled how her mother deemed McDonald's food godless.
Religious fury and longing raged within the girl. Her shaking hand lingered above the basket.
"Is something wrong?" Jago asked.
"It's-it's nothing."
Carrie hid her face as her stomach gurgled, heat spreading across her cheeks. Her mother warned her about eating the 'Devil's food.' Again, her stomach growled in frustration.
She removed the cloth, revealing shriveled, wet bread with chopsticks. Carrie struggled with the utensils until Jago helped her. After figuring out the chopsticks, she picked up a piece of bread and bit into it. Between chews, Carrie let the seasoning tingle her tongue until she swallowed.
"Wha… what is this?"
"A momo." Jago split his chopsticks to unbind them. "The village I visited is famous for it."
"Oh." Another momo slipped from Carrie's grasp. "These sticks feel weird."
"They are at first, but they'll grant you more control once you adjust to them." Jago loosened his mask's straps and removed it, drawing Carrie's attention. Though his face appeared clean-shaven, his stubble lines emerged in low light. A light tan encircled his eyes, and his skin was sun-kissed. "Since you're staying with me, we should get to know each other. You've avoided me for a few days now."
The girl played with her food. "I don't want to get tricked… or hurt."
"You have nothing to fear from me. I promise."
Carrie couldn't understand the monk. Instead of a ravenous, lust-crazed beast, he displayed a reserved and stoic nature. However, his saddened eyes hinted at something darker. She sensed a kindred spirit in him, although his story was unknown. Soon, she focused on Jago's tattoo. The thick lines mimicked tiger stripes, some forming a fierce, tiger-like face. Near the edges was strange writing that was challenging to interpret.
"Is everything alright?" Jago asked.
Carrie broke free from her hypnotic trance. "Sorry. I couldn't resist staring at your tattoo."
The monk studied the swirling black ink covering his left arm and chest. "It's alright. The monks who once lived here brought me up and trained me. I was a favorite among the Order until-." A distant memory swept across his mind's eye as his brows knitted.
"Jago?" Carrie called.
The monk jolted out of his thoughts. "My apologies. My mind wandered someplace else. The High Abbot had engraved this on me as I showed such promise. The stripes denoted a warrior's identity. See that writing at the end there? That is a Tibetan prayer."
The girl surveyed the inscriptions. "Forgive me, but… what religion do you follow?"
"I'm a Buddhist. Why? Is that a problem?"
"No. Well, I…" Carrie wrestled with expressing herself without being offensive. "I… well… um… assumed… as a monk, you aspired to be near God. As a Christian, I believed my mother until I questioned her beliefs."
"Hmm. You've reached a turning point in your path and are uncertain about the way forward." Jago paused, reflecting. "I won't change what you believe nor convert you."
The girl's tense posture eased.
"I can, however, show you something," Jago added.
"W-what is it?"
"That will be a surprise tomorrow."
Carrie gulped as a heavy sensation gripped her. Her last surprise changed her life forever. She prayed history wouldn't repeat itself.
Carrie lay in her cot the following day, gazing at the ceiling. While lost in thought, she detected someone approaching her room. She pulled the quilt over her, pretending to be asleep. As the door slid open, Carrie trembled under her blanket. Oh God, it's happening! He's going to-!
"Meet me at the bridge. We're grabbing breakfast," Jago whispered.
Carrie craned her neck, blinking as the monk left. After a while, she laughed. I can't believe I was so worried! She pinched her nose, sighing. A thick garment lay at the foot of her bed when she arose. Unfolding it, she discovered an orange skirt-like cloth. She also found two more pieces. The second was four-sided and pink, while the third was a gold double-layered robe.
After getting dressed, Carrie stepped into a room with a mirror. Blonde hair featuring red highlights draped her shoulders and back. Tiny lights glimmered in her bluish-gray eyes. Her complexion appeared pale under bright lighting.
Carrie adjusted her outfit when her mother appeared behind her. The woman's harsh stare left her reeling.
"You dirty slut… burn those clothes and pray for forgiveness!"
"NO!" Carrie spun but found no one. In the mirror, only her reflection showed. She soothed her temples. Calm down. It's all in your head.
Her strong Christian beliefs made Carrie anxious about staying at the Tiger Shrine. She couldn't help but question whether she was betraying her faith by being in a sacred place devoted to a specific belief. The girl shook her head, reminding herself she hadn't sinned by being here.
While leaving the temple, Carrie hugged herself. While passing a boulder, she muttered, "How could anyone live here without freezing?"
An amused chuckle reached her. "It'll become second nature to you."
Carrie found Jago leaning against the same boulder. A red zhen outer robe covered most of his attire, giving him a regal appearance. Though she couldn't tell what kind of fabric the robe stemmed from, it kept the monk warm and allowed him to move.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Alright then. This way." He pointed to a nearby dirt road, and as he walked towards it, Carrie trailed behind him. Her pace slowed as the hours passed, forcing her to draw deep breaths. Her body protested with each step.
Jago glanced back. "Are you alright?"
Carrie placed her hand over her heart, panting. "It's… I'm having trouble breathing."
"Ah, yes, the air is thin here. Relax your breathing."
"You-you said we would get breakfast, but where?"
"You'll see."
Their arrival at the summit provided a stunning view of mountains, fields, and forests. The sun had risen, painting the sky with oranges, pinks, and purples.
"Wow!" Carrie exclaimed, absorbing it all.
Jago chuckled. "Indeed. Whenever I'm depressed, I come here to lift my spirits. Even in dark times, a new day awaits us."
Carrie stared at the scenery, reflecting on the monk's words. Sunrises from her hometown were ill omens because they meant another round of torment. Here, it meant a fresh beginning. As they descended, they trekked through the forest toward a town. Colorful flags fluttered in the breeze as they hung on the lines. Smoke billowed from the close-knit houses embellished with Buddha statues.
A sweet aroma wafted into Carrie's nose, leading her to a baker. As she walked away and inspected the bread, her mouth watered. The confectioner cleared his throat to grab her attention. Soon after, he spoke that strange language.
Carrie blinked when the pastry chef spoke again. "Um, I don't understand what you're saying."
"He's asking if you like a sample." Jago approached her from the side.
"What are they?"
The two men exchanged words in their native tongues. "He says they're balep korkun."
The chef presented Carrie with a flatbread. After biting into it, her tongue tingled with sweetness. "This is delicious! Can we have this?"
"Of course. Sir, we'll have four slices."
The seller and Jago chatted while the former prepared the goods. Carrie pressed her lips together, and though tempted to use her powers, she avoided peering into their minds. Jago bowed once the cook handed him two bags.
Carrie waved goodbye to the baker as they left. After trekking across town, they rested on a sturdy bench, eating their meal. Several people visited the stands to arrange deals or trades. An older crowd carried hand-held wheels, clicking and whirling.
"Why are they in a cheerful mood?" Carrie sighed, longing for everyday life.
"They're preparing for Drukwa Tsezhi," Jago said. "An event to honor Buddha's first sermon about the Four Noble Truths. The holiday begins on the fourth day of the sixth lunar month."
"Isn't it July now?"
"Yes, but you're counting solar months. Here, the locals use a lunar calendar, which relies on the moon."
"Oh. Mama doesn't let me attend festive events. She thinks people commit acts of sin in those things."
"Really? Hmm. Well, today, Drukwa Tsezhi is your first. Lhasa is where it happens, but traveling could be difficult."
"Excuse me?" A woman stood behind them, wearing beads in her abundant black hair. She wore a long-sleeved dress with a vibrant pattern. "Sorry if I listened, but are you two heading to Lhasa? I'm heading there to visit a friend who lives in the Sera Temple. I may have an idea to get there."
The duo exchanged stares, studying the woman.
"What do you have in mind?" Jago asked.
The trio spoke to a driver possessing a pickup truck at the town border. After agreeing, they hopped into the vehicle. The driver started the engine and drove. The trio admired rolling hills and deep canyons throughout their trip as the setting changed.
"We appreciate your help, um… we don't know your name." Jago scratched his head.
The woman smacked her head. "Oh, dear, where are my manners? I'm Nima."
"I'm Lama Jago. The young one is Carrie."
"Carrie, that's a pleasant name." When Nima waved, Carrie froze, leaving the woman stumped. "Was it something I said or did?"
"Carrie isn't used to kindness."
"Aw, the poor thing. What happened?"
"I'm not sure, to be honest. So, this friend of yours."
"His name is Fei. He's a teacher living in the Sera Temple. A few weeks ago, he sent me a letter informing me of his promotion by the Abbot. I would send Fei a response letter, but not today."
"So, you plan to surprise him?"
"Right. You and Carrie should visit too. Fei might let us stay overnight. Hotels are scarce, even around Drukwa Tsezhi."
Twilight unleashed its golden hues as the truck reached Lhasa. The city was bustling with activity as people prepped for the evening. Locals and tourists enjoyed the festivities as paper lanterns filled the sky. Incense and street food wafted through the breeze, adding to the festive mood.
Arriving at the Sera Temple, the trio thanked the driver. The enclosed barrier changed from white to pinkish-red, with signs of renewal. As they reached the entrance, Nima knocked. The door cracked, breaking the peace.
"Bihāna sam'ma kunai āgantuka chainan," a deep voice said. No visitors until morning.
"Ö ma phē'ī hērna cāhānthēṁ, mērō purānō sāthī," Nima said. Aw, I wanted to see Fei, my old friend.
A man emerged from the creaking door. Over his shoulders was a maroon robe, and on his wrist were prayer beads. His tired eyes softened in Nima's presence, grinning. They clasped hands and bowed.
While Nima conversed with Fei, Carrie clenched her fists. Her jaw ached from gritting her teeth, and a burning sensation swelled in her chest. However, she unfurled her palms and lowered her gaze. Maybe being alone was her penance.
"Carrie? Carrie."
Her train of thought stopped when Jago called her.
"Master Fei wants to meet you," he said. "I've already introduced myself to him."
Carrie bowed, hesitant. "H-Hello, sir-I mean, Master."
The senior man beamed. "Unī dhērai vinamra chin, ra unakō ācaraṇa pani śud'dha cha."
"He describes you as having a kind heart," Jago stated.
Carrie withdrew, earning a quizzical expression from Fei.
"Kr̥payā, usalā'ī māpha garnuhōs." Jago waved. "Dayālu hr̥daya bha'ēkā mānisaharūlā'ī kyārī paricita chaina. Malā'ī lāgdacha ū ugra jīvanabāṭa ā'ēkō thiyō." Please forgive her. Carrie's not familiar with kindhearted people. I suspect she came from a rough life.
Fei nodded. "Samaya unakō, jāgō sahāyatā hunēcha. Ā'unuhōs āja rātī cisō hunēcha." Time will aid her, Jago. Come. It'll be chilly tonight.
Fei led them to apartments in the sanctum. As he pushed through the doors, a lobby dotted with candles revealed itself. Carrie followed the group, leading to the upper levels. He motioned them to wait when they neared a sliding door disguised as a wall. Fei tapped the door, and after a few minutes, it opened, inviting them.
Bamboo rods covered the walls with interior spot lamps. In the center was a table adorned with wooden flowers. The monks and their High Abbot welcomed their visitors. While they sat near Fei, someone tugged on Carrie's sleeve.
A boy held a bowl brimming with cream-colored soup. "Baṭara ciyā?"
Carrie tapped Nima's shoulder. "What did he say?"
"He wants you to try butter tea," Nima said. "Butter tea is a staple of Tibetan culture. It promotes harmony with others when you drink it."
Carrie had never tried butter tea, let alone heard of it. She gestured at the boy, who presented it to her. "T-Thank you. Do you have a name?"
"Dawa." The child motioned to his fellow monks. "Tashi. Li Chang." The boy became intrigued when Carrie greeted them. "Bhā'I jagō, unī kahām̐ baschin?" Brother Jago, where does she live?
"Mailē unalā'ī sōdhēkō chaina, tara malā'ī lāgcha ki unī amērikākī hun." Jago checked on the girl. "How are you, Carrie?" I haven't asked her, but I assume she's from America.
"Okay." Carrie grabbed the tea-filled dish and sipped. She expected something sweet, but salt danced on her tongue. She kept herself together as she ingested more and laid it on the table. "What's in this tea?"
"Butter tea has a potent smoky flavor, but you'll adapt." Nima filled Carrie's cup with the beverage. "For each sip, we replenish the jorum to the brim."
Carrie was about to speak but held her peace. She enjoyed herself for the rest of the night.
The next day, bells rang as everyone gathered in the Great Assembly Hall. The monks sat in rows, creating deep guttural noises from their throats. Carrie planned to ask Jago what the monks were doing, but he hushed her. Complying, she surveyed the morning routine. After the ritual, they retreated to their quarters and enjoyed brunch.
"What were those sounds?" Carrie asked.
"It's called throat singing," Jago said. "Rituals use this to connect with nature and the spirit world." A knock on the door caught the duo's attention. "Come in."
Nima joined them for brunch. "I love morning prayers. Just hearing them fills my soul."
"I enjoyed it too, although it's a strange experience for me," Carrie said.
"Adapting takes time, but it's an ideal way to start the day." Nima found the girl's silence compelling. "What's bothering you?"
"I have struggled since moving to Tibet. I'm unsure which direction to go. As I told Jago, I once followed Mama's words until I challenged her teaching."
"I see. Under Tibetan tradition, some topics remain unsaid, but I'm curious. What did your mother tell you?"
Carrie kneaded her hands, searching for the right words. "She believes that… anyone engaging in other religions is… destined for Hell. Buddhism may be the same because I never hear about God or Heaven." Nima and Jago's eyes locked onto her, their expressions blank. "I'm sorry! That's what Mama believes! You're not mad at me, aren't you?"
Jago raised a calming hand. "We're fine, Carrie. Delusions about our beliefs are not uncommon. In Buddhism, the concept of heaven exists. However, the religion does not focus on a Creator God. Our view is that the world experiences phases.
"For instance, leaves change colors in autumn and float to the ground to die. When spring arrives, they return. Life on Earth moves through a rebirth cycle.
"Only Buddha knew this. In life, he was a prince named Siddhartha Gautama. Once shielded from life's horrors, Gautama saw suffering in many forms. As a result, he renounced luxury and pledged monastic vows. He sought refuge in a forest for six years without food or water."
Carrie could not imagine someone doing such a thing. "Why would he do that?"
"To attain enlightenment," Jago said. "After learning this approach was wrong, he tried another method. While sitting under a Bodhi tree, Gautama attained insight, becoming Buddha."
Carrie mused this story. In some ways, her experiences showed specific patterns. Her mother sheltered her from a 'sinful' world, and she endured suffering. "Was Buddha… a god?"
"He was more of a mentor, despite pictures and statues of him," Nima said. "Once you escape the endless cycle of suffering, you can attain Nirvana. The ideal approach is to explore yourself. Ask questions such as, 'Who am I? What does the future hold for me?' By answering these questions, you'll better understand yourself."
Carrie absorbed Nima's words. A self-reflective approach could help her discover her identity.
Later, the duo arrived at the gate. After spending time in the Sera Temple, they were ready to leave.
"Wait!" someone called from behind. Nima rushed towards them, catching her breath. "You're leaving?"
"The kora will start soon, and we can't miss it," Jago said.
"Alright. Before you leave, I have something for Carrie."
As Nima removed a white scarf from her chuba, the girl blinked. "What's this?"
"That is a khata, a present given to guests," Jago explained.
Carrie debated whether to accept it, given her experience. Out of support, Jago gestured for her to take the khata. She waited while the woman wrapped the silky shawl around her neck.
Nima tilted her head. "You look lovely in it."
Carrie brushed her fingers against the shawl. Unable to convey in words, she hugged Nima.
"Thank you." Carrie sniffled into her shoulder.
Nima returned the hug. The women held onto each other until they pulled away. "Don't cry, little one. May you cherish this shawl."
Jago lowered his head and joined his palms. "Thank you for your kindness and hospitality."
"I look forward to our next meeting." Nima mirrored the gesture.
They turned towards the exit, saying goodbye. Later, they hitched a ride from an auto-rickshaw. The brief ride brought them to a temple on a tortoise-shaped sarsen. Upon arrival, the duo explored the temple, learning its history.
During their journey, they found pilgrims blessing a pond with incense. They drank the water and prayed. As they traveled around the route, Lhasa emerged. Light rays pierced through the clouds, hitting the capital.
Something stirred inside Carrie. Nature's beauty amazed her. As the sun's gentle rays caressed her cheeks, Carrie shed tears. Nothing was so grand and majestic as what stood before her.
Peace enveloped Carrie's chest. You were wrong, Mama. Sin doesn't exist in this world.
A/N: Carrie is entering a new world, and Jago will ensure she will have a great time. It's time to let my brain rest, so I'll see you later.