by Brian Thomas
Sitting cross legged in the centre of the room on a rush mat was an old priest, wearing the dark robes of an elder. To become a Temple elder, a priest must master all of the Temple’s arts and be greatly respected, as they became teachers to the young acolytes training at the Temple, passing on the Temple’s wisdom to future generations. The priest was staring at the wall ahead of him, neither meditating nor entirely aware of his surroundings, his mind simply absorbed with his own silent thoughts. The elder’s eyes appeared hard, without kindness or compassion, and the mouth had a bitter twist to it. This elder seemed far removed from his own fond memories of Si Li and the other elders who had taught him, who he had loved like favourite uncles and respected beyond measure. It was his love and respect for them and the others who lived in the Temple that kept him so tightly bound to his oaths on their behalf, pledging his service to fulfil the Temple’s obligations. With a jolt he recognised the elder sitting below as the older Li Chin of his future, returned to the Temple after a life time’s servitude to a host of masters.
The door opened and closed silently, allowing a young acolyte to enter and kneel before the old Li Chin, presumably the acolyte’s teacher. Sitting up on his knees, the acolyte was all awe and suppressed enthusiasm before his teacher. The Li Chin watching the scene unfold before him was struck at how similar he must have been when he had entered the Temple as a young acolyte of the same age and meeting Si Li for the first time. Just the memory of his old mentor after all he had just seen his future self do made his heart ache. He was filled with shame at the despicably wasteful acts he would perform throughout his life, though ostensibly done in the name of the Temple and for the good of his people. There was a long period of silence before the acolyte ventured tentatively, “Master, I am Whey Ling. I have been assigned as your pupil and humbly present myself for your teaching.” Whey Ling bowed his head to the floor and sat upright on his knees again, waiting for a response. After a while without a response from his teacher, he continued hesitantly. “I am not worthy of your time, Master, but I will give my best and be a loyal servant of the Temple.”
The old Li Chin in front of Whey Ling didn’t move but replied in a hard voice. “Do not call me master. I want nothing to do with the vile parasites. I have been tainted by my association with them. They made me their hound, a rabid dog which taints all within its fetid reach, only worse. A diseased animal would eventually be brought down by its own sickness, whereas I went on killing for decades. Seek wisdom from another. I can teach you nothing of any worth, only of slaughter and misery.”
The young acolyte looked horror stricken. “Esteemed Teacher, this is not so! How can you say this when you have served the royal family for a life time, providing the Temple’s wisdom and guidance for the benefit of all our people? Who could say where our great nation would be today if you had not been there to offer your knowledge and wisdom. You have won many famous battles, you are the champion of Wing-Ho province and your martial skill is legendary throughout the Hansee Empire! If I could be half the man, achieve half as much as you have done in my lifetime, I would exceed my wildest imaginings and be proud beyond my ability to comprehend. Surely you are mistaken.”
The old Li Chin turned his cold eyes to Whey Ling and regarded him with a withering silence, until Whey Ling swallowed nervously under the chill gaze and bowed again. “Forgive me Teacher. I misinterpreted your wisdom. You cannot teach me because it is I who is unworthy. I will seek another who will be willing to teach a pupil of such poor ability.”
The elder turned his gaze to the open window, his shoulders slumping slightly before responding. “The people, this land I once loved, call me the Butcher of Wing-Ho. It is an apt title. Appropriate to the work I have done on behalf of the Temple. My wisdom has been ignored by a selfish and tyrannical ruling class who care for nothing beyond their own comforts and prestige. I have spent my time in this world perpetuating a vile regime which should have died a natural death long ago. I have accomplished nothing but assigning many to an unjust and pointless early death. I have left behind no legacy beyond the misery of those deaths to their loved ones and helped deprive the Hansee of any salvation. The poorest peasant who has grown a crop, known a woman who has loved him and sired a child has had a richer life than I. They will surely make a swifter return on the Great Wheel of Life to another time on this earth than I, burdened as I am with my crimes against our people and misused time here.” The old man frowned slightly in memory. “I was given a warning of what lay before me once. I had an opportunity to take another path but I lacked the courage to take it. I lacked the resolve to stand alone. I knew what the masters demanded of me was unjust but still thought it for the best in the long term for me to comply. Now, I wonder how much my decision was based on the fear of becoming a pariah. Motivated by fear of being cast out by the Temple as an oath breaker with the inevitable loathing of my brethren. It was easier to find the courage for battle, confident of my superior skills and knowing a courageous death in combat would result in a quick return on the Wheel of Life, than to find the courage to face my own fears of standing alone. It is easier to receive acclaim for poorly conceived tasks well performed, than to accept responsibility and the repercussions of acting independently for what is right. I had not realised how comfortable we at the Temple had become with justifying the death of the few.”
Barely having dared to breathe up to this point, Whey Ling replied earnestly. “Surely you are mistaken Teacher? You have helped keep peace, our lands have prospered and many have been saved from the deprivations of war.”
The old man turned to the acolyte again, seemingly surprised he had spoken his own thoughts aloud and that Whey Ling was still there. His reply was angry and bitter. “I have no wisdom born of experience and I would not have you perpetuate my misdeeds. Go! I can teach you nothing!” Whey Ling scurried backwards, gasping in fear and fighting back tears as he escaped the chamber and the caustic bitterness of his teacher.
In a state of mild shock the consciousness of Li Chin was pulled away by his guide, quickly leaving the Temple behind them as he sensed, this time, he was being taken backwards; returned to his own time with his mind in a whirl of confusion at what he had seen. Li Chin’s sense of purpose was shaken, as was the value he placed on the oaths he had made and the veracity of the Temple’s own covenant with the emperor’s dynasty. In the future he had just witnessed for himself he had retained no self-respect or value for the life he had lived. In fact, he had only self-loathing and this must have been the case for a long time before he had returned to the Temple.
Was this it, his future preordained as a life of misery and self recrimination for adhering to the principals he had held sacred, to his oaths? Li Chin became aware of his surroundings again and could see the bright gleam of the light cord he had entered with his guide being left behind as they started their descent to the base of the monolithic light structure.
Li Chin was suddenly angry. Why show him this; what was the purpose in disclosing he had such a desolate future, nothing but a miserable existence ahead of him when he had held honourably to his Temple vows. Li Chin’s anger was directed at his guide and for the first time heavily laced with suspicion at the guide’s motives. He sensed a wave of reassurance come from the guide. “You needed to see it yourself to understand, to know what is at stake.”
“Why?” he demanded back.
“Our lives are full of dilemmas, difficult decisions where the answer is not clear. We are faced with difficult choices, how we choose determines our future and for some their choice affects many others. You are such a one.”
“Choices? Then what I saw is not my future? I could choose a different future?” Li Chin asked in confusion.
“Look to the Tree of Futures.” With the instruction entering his mind, Li Chin felt his attention directed to the colossal structure they had just left behind them, pulsing with a regular brightening and dimming like the heartbeat of a living entity. “We saw one possible future, a future
where the choices you made led along that path to that future. We are returning to the Tree of Future’s base, the “Now”, from where all of the possible futures stem. At countless events you make a choice and at each event you choose differently. With each different choice a new future is born, a branch on the possible futures for our world is made.”
“So it was not my future?” Li Chin asked, his spirits lifting in hope.
“It could be, depending on what you choose.” the guide thought back.
“But why would I choose such a future?” Li Chin asked in exasperation, the stark image of the embittered old man still stark in his mind.
“One does not choose a future; one makes choices during one’s life. You cannot choose the dilemmas and situations you face, these are presented by fate. You can, however, make your own choices once faced with such situations.” The guide’s thoughts were patient as they glided across Li Chin’s mind, encouraging him to think through the issue in a way which seemed familiar.
“Then how can I steer my future down a path I would wish?” Li Chin looked at the Tree of Futures; the endlessly forking branches were limitless and beyond his ability to comprehend.
“One can spend a lifetime exploring all the possible paths and still falter along the way to a desired future, because not just our own choices determine the true future, the future we live.”
“Then if we cannot determine the future what of prophecy?” His frustration and suspicion still near the surface. Li Chin demanded, “Why show me a future which might be if I am unable to make it happen or change it due to the intervention of others?”
“Look to the Tree of Futures. There are countless strands of light, each representing a possible future for our world. See how many of the strands come together in distinct groups, so a collection of similar futures follow a similar course, together making a branch in the Tree of Futures. Think of each grouping of strands, or futures, as a large branch in a tree, where each branch represents a significant alternative future for our world. A branch may occur at a time when a significant event, such as a war, may come about or may be avoided, depending upon choices made. We may influence our future such that it follows one branch rather than another, say to avoid a war. It would be impossible to entirely predetermine our future but if we are fortunate, we can navigate along the “branch” of a preferred future. Prophecy is intended to flag significant events which result in a major deviation in the course of our possible futures, a new fork where we will all irrevocably be taken along one branch or another. Prophesies often warn of a route to be avoided but the preferred route may depend upon the perspective of the one prophesising. The branch one would choose for one’s self might not be the preferred branch another would choose.”
“Then how would anyone know how to use prophecy to advantage?” Li Chin asked, already aware of the Temple’s teachings on prophecy, which until now he had thought theoretical.
“Prophecy should be left to those who understand such things and kept away from those who do not. Many prophecies are obsolete, the determinate event being prophesised already having occurred long ago or relating to an alternative future no longer available to us. As a consequence these are no longer relevant to our own destiny. Look to the base of The Tree of Futures, it is the Now. The base rises upwards as what is the Now occurs, constantly rising up the Tree of Futures. As it does so, all the possible futures which did not materialise in our world fall beneath the base and are gone forever, leaving only possible futures above the base and no alternative “histories”.” The guide’s tone became more forceful to emphasise the warning it was about to make. “Trying to use prophecy to guide our lives is dangerous and can easily result in the opposite of the intended outcome.”
“But surely a major event and the alternative outcomes can be made clear, so that the best choice may be taken?” Li Chin speculated.
“You seek to make a complex issue simple; it is not simple and never can be. Prophecies are usually cryptic and meaningless without context and simplistic interpretations by the unenlightened result in inappropriate actions.”
“Perhaps you make it too complicated and a way exists to make prophecy a useful tool for the benefit of all our people, if only we could be made to understand what is required to bring it about.” Li Chin ventured, anxious to discover how he could improve the outcome of what he had been shown of his life in the years ahead. The guide paused for a moment, as though pondering how to continue, or perhaps even whether to continue at all. As Li Chin waited he thought the orb’s glow was not quite as bright as when he had first seen it. Could it be weakening, he wondered.
“Very few are allowed access to this wonder of the universe and even a single individual could destroy it if they were able to return and merely repeat to everyone what they had seen of the futures. The Tree of Futures protects itself from such an event. Any who pass through the pool of light and enter its branches to see a future are prevented from speaking of what they have seen directly. They are only able to speak in the cryptic form of prophecy. Similarly, if they attempt to write what they have seen, they are only able to write in the cryptic form of prophecy. When you return to your time you will remember events clearly as you have seen them but attempt to speak or write of them and it will emerge in the ambiguous and cryptic prose you are familiar with. In this way The Tree of Futures protects its underlying integrity, from those who might unwittingly cause its destruction on their return.”
Li Chin was silent as he absorbed this, wondering how else he might already be affected by other magic from his unintended journey. “But if those who have been can remember they could surely change things for the better, even without being able to speak or write of what they had seen?”
“It is not merely the prophesised event itself which must take place. It is also the manner in which the event occurs and how these events are perceived by those around them which is equally vital. How would any observer adequately convey the countless perceptions of those touched by such events?” The guide paused, obviously waiting for a response.
Li Chin eventually conceded his grudging acknowledgement of the Guide’s warning. “I accept it is possible to ensure a prophesised event may take place, but this will not necessarily ensure the fulfilment of the prophecy.”
The guide seemed pleased with Li Chin’s interpretation. “Precisely; not every event can be scheduled out in detail for each of us to perform by rote. Each future materialises as a result of the natural actions and decisions of key individuals involved at critical events.”
“Then how is it possible to use prophecy to influence the future, the path selected by the key individuals?” asked Li Chin, thinking of his own predicament.
“By influencing events, such that those involved make the desired choices naturally and unaware of the consequences of those decisions.” the guide replied.
“You mean by manipulating people to make the choices you would prefer they made, for your own desired future?” Li Chin challenged suspiciously. “As you are doing with me now. Otherwise why would I be here, with you showing me what you have? You have shown me my future, a prophecy, which is contrary to your own wisdom.”
“We are at a critical time, a point where there is a major new branch in the Tree of Futures and, yes, there is a branch or preferred future I would wish to be on. Believe as you wish with regard to my motives, but you are a special individual, one whose own choices create new branches on the Tree of Futures and therefore different rules apply to you. I have merely shown you what your future may hold based on the choices you are at liberty to make. I will not force you to choose as I would prefer, your choices are your own prerogative. If we wish to travel down the same branch, where is the conflict?” The guide’s thoughts flowed over Li Chin’s mind, indicating no sense of excitement or urgency, patiently waiting for his response.
Determined not to be rushed without understanding, Li Chin questioned his guide’s motives further. “You have only shown me one way, a way
you are bound to know I would find abhorrent. But what of the other ways, what are the alternative outcomes of choices which I have yet to make? Show me the outcome you wish and the choices I have to make to get there, so I can make a proper, informed choice.” Li Chin demanded.
“There is not time to show you all the permutations for all the different choices you must make during your life. I have shown you there is always a choice and that there are far reaching consequences for us all on the outcomes of those choices. It is for you to choose. The time for questions is over. It is time for you to return to your “Now”, but think well on what you have seen and the road which lies ahead if you choose poorly.”
The soft glow of his guide began to move away and, without its restraining influence, Li Chin began to sink into the pool of light, returning to his own time. He called out mentally, reaching for the guide to ask more questions but they continued to drift apart, Li Chin descending fast into his now.
As he sank deeper, Li Chin resolved never again to willingly partake in an unjust act. He would avoid renewing his oath as guardian for another indenture or taking any oath which would blindly bind him to perform such acts so that he could preserve his conscience as well as his honour. The world was full of injustice and vile acts but he would never consent to knowingly commit one. The same iron resolve which had bound him to his earlier oaths now bound him to this new commitment and he was already contemplating the difficulties such a decision would hold for him in the future, whichever future it turned out to be.