All three things cast aloft. Heaven begets Earth begets Man begets Heaven. The reality of the world is in the Supreme Principle of the Three-As-One. Ya, Earth. Ji, Heaven. And Yaji, Man.

There are no words to describe the Yaji. And so I will describe everything else, so that the emptiness may be its shape. This is foundational, doctrinal knowledge. Enough to let you hit the ground running. First, history. As all things become it.

- Treatise on the Faiths of the Central Utter Islands region

"I see." Learning new things burgeoned a giddy feeling within Raxri's stomach. They wished to know more. They hungered, they were ready to devour even more knowledge for the emancipation of mankind. The emancipation of mankind. What did that mean? Something arose again within Raxri, and they continued to ask, cutting into a short discussion about Sintra Kennin introducing themselves to Angko. "Do you think there will ever be a chance that I recover my memories, achi Angko?"

Angko paused for a moment. They tilted their head to the side and thought about it. "It is tricky, to talk about that. How can you even be sure that you're the actual Raxri Uttara, and not a clone who has attained consciousness?"

Angko shrugged and waved her hands. "It has happened before, but I do think it's unlikely. It is... something difficult to ascertain. The truth is that no natural science has ever figured out all the components of a person's consciousness. If ever, the mystics seem to be the closest to the truth of consciousness as clear light mind, an expression of a mindstream that can only finally dissipate back into its Void by realizing the nature of Void wholly and completely, nonconceptually."

Raxri blinked. "What are you talking about achi? What does the metaphysics of the consciousness have to do with the loss of my memory?"

Akazha laughed in the background, ruffled by her covering her face to hide the fact that she did, in fact, laugh.

Angko ignored that: "The storehouse of your memory is most likely attached somehow to your consciousness," said Angko. "I am cautious about exploring further. At least, not until you've had proper Abhishekas and Initiations by Guro Sutasoma. It is against the Mystic Vows to try and expose the uninitiated into such esotery. But I will try to keep it somewhat succinct: so, imagine your memory as part of a greater collection of things that all form together to create what the locals of Imos Town would call your Soul. Memory is removed from your Mindstream as one of the many steps of going through the Maw."

Raxri was so focused that the prickling sensation of the hair-dyeing was nowhere in their immediate attention. "The Maw?"

"The Maw. To enter the Interstitial--that place inbetween the three states of existence--you must go through the Maw. More completely, it is known as the Maw of Emmara Senje, the King of Hell. The Maw shears away various parts of your past life. The strength of its bite depends on your karma. As you know: the heavier and greater the karma, the harder it is to remove. If Emmara Senje cannot remove all of your karma, then you must spend time in the Hell Realms, where you are painfully purged of your karmic fruits. If Emmara removes all of your karma and your mindstream is completely emaciated then you more or less become born as a Pakta, the Hungry Ghost.

"Anyway, one of the things that is removed when you die is your Memory. Memory doesn't exactly have the heaviest bearing on your karma, and so it is actually one of the first--if not the first--thing to be removed when you are killed. One hypothesis that we can ascertain from this burgeoning dialectic therefore is that you died. Completely, died."

"I'm dead?" Raxri looked down upon themself. They looked perfectly bubbly. "Am I in purgatory? Is this a hell I must suffer on my own? Are you all mental images arising from my conditioned experiences?" Yeah, that's right. Say all those interesting things, Raxri thought. Maybe now Angko will think I'm smart and not stupid.

Akazha laughed again, in the back. Angko blinked, and said: "Well, no. We're all particularly real unfortunately... we are all still in Wandering, or as some other traditions would call it, samsara. Or Maya--"

"That's what we call it," interjected Sintra Kennin.

"--but I can assure you this is no purgatory. You're not on the cusp of enlightenment. Don't think that. You're not dead. You're clearly brought back to life... but you've passed through a few parts of the Maw, it seems."

"If I was shorn of not just my memory but also my power, does this mean that I reached a stratum of the Maw wherein I was removed of my attainment and enlightenment?"

Angko stopped chanting for a moment and thought. Raxri realized this was the first time she'd had to think before speaking. To Raxri's eyes, this made her a very smart person in truth.

Then, Angko said: "You... cannot be removed of your Enlightenment. I think. Nor of your Attainment. That one's a weird confluence. Some attainments lead to enlightenment, other enlightenments give rise to attainments. But only some, and not all. So... I'm not sure, actually. Guro Sutasoma would no doubt have a better answer for you than this."

"I told you," said Akazha, flipping a page. "Which is why it's important we bring them there."

Angko nodded, waving her hand dismissively. "This is definitely an interesting twist. You've made me consider something new, and for that I award you with, er, something. Do you like rice meals?"

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Raxri nodded vigorously.

"Hey!" Angko shouted. "Don't do that! I'm still holding on to your hair!"

In a few more moments, after doing some more catching up talk wherein Raxri explains all their exploits ever since they've awoken from the Vault of Souls, Angko clapped her hands and stepped back. "There we go! Finally done. Your hair, perfectly sculpted, somewhat cut."

"You gave me a hairdo as well?" Raxri finally sat up from their lying down position and stretched.

Angko nodded. She produced a leaf and threw it in the air, uttered something incomprehensible to Raxri, and then the leaf was cut in half.

"How did you--"

"Psychic powers," said Angko. "Well, magopsionic. Well, there's not much difference between magick and psionicks other than instrument and means anyway. Whatever, Sintra, be a doll and fetch my mirror from inside the house please."

Sintra nodded sagely and did exactly as was asked of him.

"What's psionicks?"

Angko began fixing her station, though there wasn't much to fix or clean up, since she didn't use much in the way of physical instruments. "I already told you, psychic powers. Powers that arise from the honing of the mind. In truth, it's a kind of magick, but there are some uptight monks and abbots that don't like it when what they're doing is associated with magicks and wizardry. You see, magick is occult and secret for a reason. It's a Mystery Discipline. No one can just use magick. Anything magick is anything that cannot be convincingly explained by the world. And so, to some, especially those of the non-esoteric kind, it is devilry, infernal, stygian, abhorrent. Transgressive against the very nature of reality itself! But nature's reality is not as solid as many think it is. And for the longest time, we have been depending on magickal technology! The karma engine, the talismans, and so on."

Raxri nodded. "I see." Somehow they felt a sense of deva ju. As if this was something that they had all heard of before. A sense of understanding air filled them, even though they could not pinpoint or explain it. A sort of indescribable feeling of recognition but not exactly comprehension. What's a karma engine? What's the deal with talismans? They thought these things and so on.

"Don't bombard them with too much axiom," said Akazha, rising to her feet. "Achi, there should be at least one bone of empathy in your body, right?"

"Hmp! What say you, I am plenty filled with empathy! Guard what you say."

Akazha smirked. "Whatever you say achi. Raxri." She turned and looked at Raxri for a moment. They were looking squarely at Raxri's hair, making sure she avoided eye contact. Raxri noticed now just how equal they were in height. Raxri liked staring at her eyes unflinchingly.

Their eyes met. Raxri looked away, flinchingly.

"It looks great."

"You're welcome," said Angko.

Akazha rolled her eyes. "It looking great is because of Raxri! Not because you did a good job!"

"Hoho! That's not how to speak to your achi, shobe. Respect my resplendent work!"

Akazha rolled her eyes. Angko kept arguing that she did everything. Sintra Kennin came out with a bronze mirror half his height--that is to say, the entire height of Raxri.

Raxri looked in and saw a somewhat new version of themself. Their caramel brown skin only made their new scarlet hair seem like it was burning like fire. It truly was more scarlet than crimson: less violet and more red-orange. Their hair had also been trimmed in such a way that their hair curled about. Their scarlet eyes matched perfectly the color. Against this new hair color, Raxri noticed that they'd always had a small mole--a beauty mark--underneath their left eye. Was that a mole or an omen for something more? With everything out here trying to kill me, I might as well be a bit more cautious about these things.

"You're right, Akazha," said Raxri. "This does look great."

"Hoho!" said Angko again. "Look at who agrees with! And of course, they're agreeing with me because by agreeing with you they would be acquiescing to the fact that they look great in scarlet hair because of their own inherent beauty which is a very pompous and haughty notion and I don't see Raxri as that type so they definitely were thinking that I, in fact, did a good job."

"Achi, whatever!" Akazha rolled her eyes. "It does look great, and you no doubt do not have the trappings of the cloud-haired Raxri Uttara any longer. A good thing. That will allow us more movement across the Isles."

"And less danger to you," said Raxri, pertaining to Akazha and Sintra Kenning. "Truly, this is a boon. I thank you, achi Angko."

"Think nothing of it! And I do it for free, to help your plight. Remember me, if and when you re-attain your enlightenments!"

Raxri turned to Angko and bowed. "Of course. Thank you, achi Angko." Sintra bowed as well, and so did Akazha, as was customary.

"Ha, look at you bowing Akazha. That's the first time I've seen you bow in five years!"

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it achi."

Sintra Kennin put the bronze mirror down gingerly and coughed. "Kkm. Perhaps this would be a good time to ask achi Angko if she knows anything about the ghost that has been haunting Imos Town?"

Angko raised an eyebrow at that. She leaned back and closed her eyes, and floated in mid air. "You mean the patayenak that has the entire town within her grasp?"

Raxri nodded vigorously. "Yes! The one that crawls like a spider and runs after you and cannot touch the running water of the river. Do you know of her?"

Angko pouted in doubt. "Why... do you want to know?"

Akazha said: "We've been asked by the High Chief to look for her and find a way to exorcize her. She's been actively detrimental to Imos Town's trade and commerce ever since she began appearing. Do you know anything about more about her? We're seeking info that could help us triangulate her next move."

"And... why do you have to do that for the High Chief?"

"Well." Akazha did not speak.

Raxri said: "Akazha almost killed the Port Chief, you see."

"Ah! That misogynistic piece of shit? That's good! Good good. Unfortunately bad, politically." Angko laughed. "So what, you have to do that instead of being killed?"

Raxri nodded. "I think it is a good alternative."

"Dangerous," said Angko. "Untrained exorcists often just die. Ghosts are one of the hardest problems to solve, and it takes forever to train an exorcist. And there are none on this island as of the moment."

"I know," said Akazha. "But we'll take our chances. If that's all the info you have then we'll have to get going--"

"Wait. I do have some info. Come, let's not talk about her outside at night, all right?"

A chill ran up Raxri's neck. Something was breathing down their neck. They turned around quickly, but there was nothing there. Just the wall of the walled off courtyard section. And darkness, of course, as the night deepened.

"All right." The four of them quickly made their way inside. As they walked in, Raxri noticed the palm leaf talismans and mantras etched upon the pillars of the doors and the house. This was a place well-guarded and well-warded.

What kind of ghost abounded in Imos Town?

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