The Shaman Desires Transcendence

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“You are an idol, an ancient thing that must be shattered. To Him, it can only be deemed unpleasant, for I exist solely as your master, and my name is Tetragrammaton—”

A sound booms.

From across Ashtosh, I hear Jinseong reciting an invocation.

It resonated like a sermon of a devout believer and simultaneously echoed the words of a curse uttered by one possessed by evil, akin to the death impulse (Thanatos) lurking within me, seeking my destruction.

Yet, even though it’s the same words, their forms shift depending on the position.

When heard from outside, it’s curse-laden, while from within, it’s the self-destructive urge wishing to annihilate me.

Indeed, I understand what it means for form to change according to position.

But is it truly so?

Can we really assert that something entirely different arises simply because of a change in position?

“Everything is dependent on one’s mindset.”

Ashtosh mutters with closed eyes.

Whether shaken from the outside or responded to from within, if one fails to accept it, it carries no meaning.

Hearing the curse only to let it slip through like noise, and neglecting the thoughts arising within only leads to fleeting whims.

But Ashtosh was shaken by that whisper.

What could be the reason?

“It had to come to this, for our hearts were one.”

Along with that brief monologue, an epiphany came upon Ashtosh.

It was a realization regarding the magic Jinseong was performing.

A reply to his imposition of the idol’s symbolism.

And a reason why he persistently whispered both from inside and out, disturbing his psyche…

“Hahahahahaha!!!”

Laughter erupts.

It spills forth from the absurdity, born from a place of incredulity, as I couldn’t help but scoff at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, even amidst despair.

And the absurdity melded into the reality that it actually worked, that there was an intention to succeed.

Thus, laughter surged forth uncontrollably.

“Who could have predicted this! Yes, it had to turn out this way!”

“I deserve death for knowing neither myself nor my opponent.”

“The end of a flame that attempted to burn what cannot be burnt is all too predictable.”

Hahaha…

Ashtosh gazed at Jinseong, bursting out in laughter.

***

Hahahahahaha!!!

The laughter of Ashtosh rings out.

A hearty laugh.

It’s hard to believe that Ashtosh, who always carried himself so composedly, could emit such an enormous laugh.

Moreover, that sound projected his will outward.

Quite simply, it exceeded the limits of mere textual expression, spreading his intent to the surroundings in the form of sound.

It goes without saying that this is not a good omen.

To be able to project one’s will so strongly only implied a strengthened connection to the Collective Unconscious, and a strong connection to the Collective Unconscious was synonymous with impending doom.

Even Anastasia, who once had the ability to explore dreams, was swallowed up emptily by that Collective Unconscious. To have an even stronger connection to such a place does not bode well.

Even vivid paint, when mixed into a vast sea, loses its color; likewise, even a person of great mental strength will be eroded when immersed in the Collective Unconscious. Ultimately, as with the previous incarnation of Danbi, it will melt away into nothingness.

That is a terrifying fear.

A different kind of fear than the physical death of the flesh.

Another death where my consciousness melts away and vanishes.

Such an end would be anything but desirable.

Yet, even so, Ashtosh looked at Jinseong and laughed.

It was a mix of resignation, despair, awe, and acknowledgment.

Ashtosh contemplated while gazing at Jinseong.

He decided to speak to Jinseong, who cohabited within his mind.

“Do what you desire.”

Responding to those words, Jinseong began performing the sacred ritual. First, he unbuckled his belt, then started to untie every single knot on his body.

Before long, even the knots tangled like vines, the decorative knots on his clothes, the natural knots formed by hair tangling, and even the laces on his shoes were all undone.

This is a sacred rite.

In ancient Rome, knots held significance.

For example, when praying to Juno Lucina, the goddess of childbirth corresponding to Hera in Greek mythology, women were required to let their hair down. During rituals worshiping Juno Lucina, all knots were forbidden, to the extent that even interlocking fingers could not be allowed.

One principle of magic is empathy.

Following this principle of empathy, the women likely recalled the tangled knots as imagery of a child or a mother dead because of an entanglement with a umbilical cord. Or considering the metaphor for fate, they may have thought that their fates were intricately tied and therefore doomed.

And not just that.

In certain cases, there were prohibitions against passing beneath ivy or grapevines, sacrificial animals could be tied but not knotted, and there were taboos against spinning wheels in public—all sorts of restrictions concerning ‘knots.’

For the ancient Romans, knots symbolized binding.

Not just a binding of oneself, but possessing a magical meaning that could bind even the rituals toward the divine.

Thus, the Romans created numerous taboos related to knots and endowed them with countless superstitions and symbolism.

And the act of Jinseong performing ‘unknotting’ was precisely an action meant to free himself from these bindings.

Beyond the meaning of releasing what binds and constricts, it was an action laden with the intent of loosening the bonds of this world, of releasing the soul from the flesh.

A rite meant to face a great being, one existing in another world that cannot easily be seen with a physical body, only to be felt as a soul.

Now, at this moment, Jinseong has completed his preparation to resonate with the divine.

Kuung-!

He raises both arms above his head and lets his body fall to the ground with a ‘kuung’ sound.

He slams his head hard against the ground, pulling his legs together, and curling up while pressing his outstretched hands from the heavens down to the ground.

That posture is commonly referred to as the Five-Body Posture.

It is a primal representation of submission.

“Inquisitive of the world, he bows towards the sun and asks, ‘Oh great God, Oh God who gazes upon the daylight of the entire world, how is the world structured? How did you create the world and what is its composition?’ And the deity answered him, saying…”

“The sunlight hovered above his head, whispering into his ears that the world is divided into three, with deities in each, and among them, a king designated to divide the worlds into three.”

“One is the vast sky, one is the sea, and one is the underworld; the foremost is the sky, ruled by the king of the sky, whose name is Zeus, the god among gods.”

“One is the brother of Zeus, the king of the sea, where the ground floats upon the ocean, both on land and the waves, his power holding dominion to the depth of the sea, hence he is the lord of the sea, called Poseidon.”

“One is deep beneath the ground, the final destination that all the dead must reach, where all minerals and all funerary goods of the deceased are claimed, and thus, unless they become the stars, all dead are subject to him, he is the king of the underworld, named Hades.”

The ancient Greeks divided the world into three parts.

One is the heavens.

One is the sea.

One is the underground.

The vast sky, which they could never touch, became the domain of gods in their awe, while the sea, where they could step but never know what lies within, became a realm of unknown and mixed terror.

And a space where all the minerals lie buried and where people are interred after death became, in their perception, the realm of the dead and outlaws.

Thus, the ancient Greeks proclaimed.

The heavens are the domain of Zeus, the king of gods.

The sea and flowing waters, the domain of Poseidon.

The underground, the domain of Hades, the god of wealth and the afterlife.

“I ignite a flame and offer this offering to the great deities, wishing to bring forth something cherished and valuable to earn Your favor.”

Where is Jinseong now?

This place is not the heavens.

It is neither the sea nor the earth.

This place is the Collective Unconscious.

Closer to dreams than reality, and nearer to the immaterial than the material.

And dreams lie within the realm of Hades.

“I use this old flesh as firewood, sending its purity and chastity to that place; Oh great master of the underworld, who embodies the wealth of the whole world, this offering bears no value compared to your dust, but I offer the best of this place, please accept it!”

Indeed.

Jinseong’s actions up until this moment were all for this purpose.

Using magic closely aligned with the Roman tradition yet compatible with Christian influences.

Layering himself with unclean symbols, the embodiment of beneath the ground.

By continually draping Ashtosh with symbolism of the divine and celestial, he created a hierarchy between him and Ashtosh.

And then, heightening that hierarchy to the maximum extent, utilizing that drop to strike, layering the imagery of the idol upon it.

In addition, reducing symbols of Christianity while consistently employing the idol’s symbolism allowed room to maneuver and prolong the influence of magic connected to Hades.

Thus, now, at this moment, the best situation has been created.

Ashtosh has become the sacrifice of the burnt offering.

Bound without knots and unable to move, the holy flame comprising his body has instead become the sacrificial fire, burning him.

The whispers of Jinseong attacking Ashtosh’s psyche transformed into the death impulse—psychologically termed as ‘Thanatos’—further solidifying the connection to Hades.

And not only that.

The environment around Jinseong and Ashtosh, altered and shattered by their battle, displayed a destructive yet dreamlike landscape, which could also be associated with Hades.

Thus, Ashtosh couldn’t help but laugh.

Even though he was suddenly called forth to an unfamiliar environment, it felt as though he had been painting this grand picture all along.

He felt dumbfounded at how he had looked down upon the opponent, believing he would end up mocking such a sorcerer.

Hence he laughed….

But regrets, no matter how quickly they arrive, are never in time.

If there’s an epiphany after regret, perhaps that could be gathered up somehow.

But it’s too late now.

This place is not a cradle, and Jinseong is no saint.

Rather, he embodies everything on the polar opposite side.

To the extent that he chose the profession of mercenary to collect sorcery, showing no hesitation in staining his hands with blood, casually living through the global catastrophic events without being killed by others.

Amid experiencing horrific pain, he lived on solely through obsession, before realizing he had no way left to live and resorting to using his own body as a material for magic—a sorcerer driven by madness and determination.

Ashtosh does not know Jinseong’s past.

He does not know what Jinseong has lived for before this twisted timeline.

But nonetheless, he could guess what kind of character Jinseong possesses.

The smell of blood.

The scent of death.

That monumental karma that cannot be easily hidden!

Ah, how could he have not known that?

That karma, that terrible karma.

Layering, melting, twisting, but still forged anew.

Like an arrow desiring to be shot somewhere.

Desperately forming a shape, even while knowing it cannot progress, much like a collection of scrap metal.

“Only at the brink of death does it come into view.”

Ashtosh gazes at Jinseong.

The flames burn his psyche, magic disintegrates his soul.

So, despite the condition of all five senses crumbling, he watches Jinseong.

With his heart.

Churning together the agony of being consumed by fire, that genuine feeling.

Thus, he looks at Jinseong and speaks.

Ah…

Earlier I lamented that I too was mere and lacking.

Murmured that it was all vanity and futility.

Truly, it is so.

I am mundane; I sought to resemble divinity but found myself incapable of doing so.

I, too, am like all others.

“My life was a castle built upon sand.”

“Your life is but the same.”

“How can the tattered cloth made from rags ever be complete?”

“What you have built up seems to be but that.”

Thus, Ashtosh laughs.

He closes his eyes, carrying the regret of his life, the disappointment and despair of failing to realize his purpose.

And then, he feels a base joy in the fact that Jinseong is not so different from him, revealing it without objection.

“I shall die without achieving my aim.”

“And you too shall do the same.”

He uttered a curse that you too shall meet the same end as I.

Ah.

This vile curse comes forth as a resolution of his impulse.

And at the same time, it serves as a warning and advice towards Jinseong.

“Hahahaha. In the end, until the moment of my death, I could never fully resemble a god.”

Thus, Ashtosh was consumed by the flames.

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…

…

And in the place where the flames disappeared.

Jinseong opens his mouth to speak.

“That was how it was.”

Is it a word meant for the now-absent Ashtosh?

Or is it a soliloquy meant for himself?

“And it will not be now.”

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