The Guest (The Chosen Chronicles) Read Online Free PDF

THE GUEST
     
     
     
    by
     
     
     
    Karen Dales
     
    A pall hung over the temple. The white votive candles flickered brightly beneath the statue of the Buddha, but their light could not eliminate the heavy presence of death. Deep resonant voices chorused from the saffron robed monks seated in double rows facing one another before the statue. The sound vibrated the air with their united breathing until it filled the hall, slipping around and between red painted columns that held crimson rafters high above.
    The chant did not have the same energy it usually held. Mindful meditation was threatened by distraction from within. Normally, this would not be tolerated, but forgiveness under the circumstances was necessary, compassion over-riding expectation. Occasional glances at the empty position of the Master belied concentration slips. These too were overlooked by elders resigned to the sadness of their juniors.
    A bell rang. A rustle of cotton and a subtle shift in position allowed the chant to die. The monks appreciated the break, to allow bald pates to lower for private thoughts, glistening dark brown eyes. Some gazed sadly at the empty raised dais at the other side of the temple, across from the votive bright Buddha.
    The bell pierced the oppressive silence to indicate the initiation of new meditative chanting. Heads raised and turned to refocus. Sound pushed against the quiet, holding it back from crushing the monks with grievous sadness.
    A flutter of movement added to the chanting until it revealed a middle aged monk entering the temple from a side entrance. Shuffling cotton and straw sandaled feet whispered from one end of the double row, where the youngest monk sat disrupted. His four year old eyes widened with surprise as an older boy, beside him, placed a hand on the child’s forearm, snapping the boy back to his meditation.
    Up the line the middle aged monk walked, occasionally causing disruptions in the chant’s defence against the silence, until he bent over an elderly monk whose concentration never wavered. The chant stuttered and died, only incomprehensible whispering filled the void.
    The gloom thickened, anxiety coating it, slicking it densely, bowing shoulders under its weight. Groaning, the elderly monk raised his body to stand. His gnarled hand patted the shoulder of the monk who had sat by his side. Without a word the old monk turned away from the doubled line and headed towards another open doorway, the middle aged monk following behind.
    Down the stone hall he walked. His straw slippered feet shushed over grey flagstone until the manmade tunnel opened to the left, revealing a courtyard bathed in full moon light. Halting at the entrance to the garden, the monks stood silent in the sight of the one who had come to their sanctuary decades ago. Awash in blue radiance they watched their long time guest move from one position to another along the precise dictates of one of their higher forms.
    Long white hair flowed in a wind of his own making, his tall slender form clad only in the loose orange pants all the monks wore beneath their robes. The monks stood patiently despite the urgency of their message. Dark brown eyes flashed in awe. In all the years they had lived in the monastery they had never witnessed such precision and grace in the martial forms taught to the youngest among them to the daily practice of the old.
    Moonlight dusted the guest’s pale skin blue as he leapt, spun, kicked and punched. His movements blurring at times until the form came to a close, leaving the Guest standing still in the middle of the courtyard. For any other, heat would have radiated off of exerted flesh, sweat would create rivulets down face and body, and lungs would bellow the chest as the heart raced from exertion. Not so with the Guest. He stood there, as still as a marble statue, with only the slight breeze forming their own patterns in his long white hair.
    The monks stood patiently, each hoping it would not be long