Pain.
What is pain?
Is it the torture of the flesh? Broken bones, lacerated skin, or punctured organs? The feeling that both reminds us that we live, yet births a fearful obsession over death?
Is it a matter of the heart? A lover who left one for another? A loved one dying? A friend turned enemy? The intangible suffering that oftentimes drives us to put our hands down and run away from the lifelong fight that is life?
Is it the destruction of one's mental foundation? The sudden epiphany that everything one believed in was a lie, thus creating a new foundation built on mental torture over the painful truth?
To that end, what does it mean to have a tolerance for pain?
Is it to have a mind and heart as callous as a warrior's body? To feel nothing in the face of suffering, be it one's own or another's; tangible or intangible?
Or is it to accept that pain stoically like an unwavering tree in an unyielding storm?
Pain is existence itself, in my opinion.
A twig snapping under the sole of a boot induces pain, albeit so little of it that it's hardly a thought. But it's there. And should its frequency spike, that is when we believe ourselves to be in pain.
Being aware of someone's little lie or even their honest mistake is pain. It births disappointment. And should its frequency spike, it breeds resentment.
The injustices and incredulities we turn blind eye to is pain. In our daily lives, it is seen. And through whatever means, it is justified and rendered invisible to our eyes.
But should its frequency spike…
To that end, to have a tolerance for pain means to embrace all forms of joy and hardship without bias. More so, it means to become neither callous to it nor resentful of it. Like fearlessness, to be without pain is akin to acceptance.
I had long since been prepared for a lifetime of suffering. Yet, I was still intolerant of pain. And it would be some time before I could tolerate it stoically.
But once my flesh had been rent through, my heart had been torn asunder, and my mental foundations were shattered did I truly become wise. For it was then that I found myself unwavering in the face of the unyielding storm of pain that is existence.
And those who are unwavering in the face of immense joy or crushing despair are the most sagely of all.
S.S.S. C1 V.3
1 year ago.
***
"You're my oldest friend, you know."
I couldn't help but give Amun an incredulous look. "I wouldn't exactly say, friend." I found myself laughing. "I'm your servant. Your vassal."
"True," Amun admitted. And strangely I felt a pang deep in my chest. Though I didn't show it. I waited with a face of ice for him to turn his dark eyes into mine. "But." He paused to stare. "You are the ones I've allowed to grow closest to me. Vassal or friend, the title doesn't matter. You all are special to me all the same. That said." He turned away to sigh, and it was then that I noticed a deep sadness in his eyes. Almost like… regret.
"I have a job for you," he said. "One that is difficult and harsh, but one that I believe to be absolutely necessary."
"What is it?" I quickly asked.
"First." He bared his palm. "I need you to understand that you can deny this job if you wish."
"I understand." I nodded solemnly.
"I need you to go to the far south." Amun pulled his map from his shadow and pointed to the base of a large peninsula. "Any town that's not too big. Preferably a poor town, somewhere in the sticks, far away from the capital where the disenfranchised would be easy to find. I want you to become a folk hero."
"I… I don't understand."
"Defend the town against oppressors or heal the sick for no cost. It doesn't matter how, just use your actions to cause distrust in the Epethian crown, but not to hate it. Instill in their minds the motivation to fight for a better world. Give them the notion of there being organizations they can migrate to for a better life.
"Do that," Amun said. "And teach them how to survive. Teach them how to learn and fight for themselves. Teach them to depend on no one but themselves. And encourage them to spread those teachings elsewhere."
There was a few moments of silence before I spoke. In those few moments, much of everything began to make sense to me. The books. The orders to train, to study, to develop our minds and bodies day after day after day since we were children.
It all made sense, but at the same time, it was completely illogical to believe.
He planned for this. Possibly before we even met, Amun planned for this very day. And perhaps much more.
'But… how?' I thought, but Amun's stare suggested he suspected an answer. So I first bowed at the neck. "I understand, I think. But, if I may ask. For what reason are you having me do this?"
Amun simply sighed heavily and looked out upon the western horizon. "This peace is fleeting," He eventually said. "A facade made from a cage that keeps out the monsters. If the barrier is to break, there needs to be a power that can oppose them. The Guild Association can only do so much. We can only do so much. More so, we'll need allies to accomplish what I have in mind. Citizens who're farmers and hunters and construction workers and politicians from every walk of life. I'll need no less than twice as many of them as I'll need indomitable warriors.
"I plan to free Maru from this inverted cage. Only then will I feel at ease about exploring the realms." He turned back to stare deep into my eyes. "That starts here. With your actions and ours."
"Okay. I'll do It."
…
I turned back from my past self, nodding her affirmations to Amun, and looked outward to the dank cave I claimed as my home. 'But how?' I wondered. It felt to be such an insurmountable task. A job that not even the two of us could carry out.
"We start with information," my clone, my other best friend, my Doppelganger's voice spread through the soft glow of the cavern to embrace my mind in a cold peace. "We start with Colis."