Vei Ohm God+v3+name
Leader of the Vei Pantheon
Kabir’s hands were clenched as he approached the sanctum. Each step on the marble path leading up to the doors, which were meticulously ingrained with images of the Core Beings, seemed to reverberate with doubt. He paused as his footstep echoed on the last step leading to the High Tribunal. It was time to step inside and show the court not just what he knew, but what he understood. Kabir closed his eyes and slowly inhaled.
He thought back to the first time he was presented with the Core Texts; tomes that looked larger than him at the time. Starting with the The Infinity of Nakana and reading his way through The Justice of Suragni was a monumental feat. How could he master these volumes to impress the High Tribunal? As if on cue, Kabir’s father appeared behind him, still smelling of spices. In the dim candlelight, he looked more bear than man, Kabir thought. Amet stroked his hands through his long graying beard as he looked past Kabir, easily recognizing the books piled high in front of his son. His large hands stopped touching his beard and he locked eyes with Kabir. Amet did not wear his emotions on his sleeve, nor did he know much apart from his own world. It was a trait that helped him excel in the negotiation and sales of spices. It was also a trait that, over the course of his life, built a wall around him stone by stone, until Amet rarely spoke unless it was necessary. Amet’s eyes grew wet and tears dripped into his beard like the nearby candle wax. He placed a calloused hand on his eldest son before telling Kabir in nothing more than a whisper, “I am proud of you”.
He thought back to being in class after a particularly arduous night of studying The Truths of Raijyu. An electric debate broke out over the meaning of this text, specifically the lines “It is only when the dust falls from your eyes that you can truly see”. Interpretations heated up the room more than Suragni’s flames. As the arguments died down, the teacher looked at Kabir.
“You didn’t speak up much, Kabir. Is there anything you wish to share? What do you think the line means?” Kabir’s breath caught in his throat. The rest of the class was waiting for a response. Kabir stood up and wiped his clammy hands on his trousers.
“Raijyu constantly focuses on what is real or what is true. Many of her chapters seem to revolve around this pursuit of finding out the truth of the matter -”
“She talks about illusions more though!” A nearby classmate chimed in.
“True,” Kabir continued, “And that’s the point. Her pursuit is truth and knowledge, but it is all covered by illusions. It’s like…” Kabir searched for the right words. “It’s like a mirror covered in dust. It’s only when you wipe it away that you can see what you want to see. The dust is all of this:” Kabir gestured around him. “This world. What we see. The dust is our reality. It’s only when we accept that the pursuit of truth and truth itself is the only thing that’s actually real that we can begin to become knowledgeable.” Kabir sat down, fidgeting in his seat as the rest of the class mumbled quietly about what he just said. The teacher smiled.
Kabir opened his eyes and exhaled. There was no more studying. There was no more interpreting. There was only the knowledge he had right now. He stepped inside the sanctum and was surprised at how little sound there was. The circular chamber had a domed ceiling, complete with a detailed painting of the Core Beings. Marble pillars rose like pale trees on either side of an elongated wooden bench where four judges sat. They each wore colored robes representing each of the Core Beings, but all wore azure scarves. They also appeared haggard with age.
“Come now, boy.” A judge with a saffron turban exclaimed, “step into the center ring and introduce yourself.”
“I-I am Kabir, son of Amet.”
“Ah, the spicemaster’s son.” The same judge said, playing with his mustache. “Proceed.”
“I have studied the Core Texts for 400 days, as tradition dictates. I come before the...the High Tribunal to proclaim my knowledge of the Core Beings for all to hear.”
“We expect great things of you, Kabir, son of Amet.” A judge wearing an embroidered violet shawl declared. “Now, please begin.”
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