In theory, though I can’t fathom where, the True Seer Great Owl said. To make an analogy, what you’re asking of me is akin to an estranged relative asking where he can find his long-deceased grandfather’s car keys.
What’s a car? Huxian asked, perplexed. Cha Ming occasionally mentioned strange things like this, and he was only too happy to take them in stride. Like coffee. Or these mythical “sandwiches” he occasionally heard of. In fact, he was very curious as to how witches could be made of sand.
Never mind cars, the True Seer Great Owl said. Wherever the source is, it’s beyond me. I can’t help you find it.
Hmm… Huxian said, looking around and sniffing. Like the owl said, he couldn’t smell any trace of light and darkness source energy. On a whim, he donned his goggles. All he could see through their violet lenses were extra lines of karma linking the five stone pillars and the central stele. He followed them for a time but came back empty-handed. When he finished, he noticed the owl hopping about.
Would you like to help me with my ceremony? the True Seer Great Owl asked as he hopped toward a small shrine that Huxian hadn’t noticed before. Its appearance was sudden, but he’d come to expect such things in this place.
Why not? Huxian said. He followed the owl, who approached the shrine’s main door and entered through it. There was a firepit in the center of the shrine. It filled a depression in the black-and-white marble floor. The marble seemed equal parts light and dark on initial observation. When he looked at it, he was surprised to see that the proportions were exactly equal, a nigh impossibility in nature.
Would you care to open the other doors? the True Seer Great Owl asked as he hopped toward the back of the shrine. Huxian noticed that aside from the front door—the southern door—there were three other equally large doors leading to the three remaining cardinal directions. He trotted to the east side of the chamber and pushed it open. Beyond the door lay the long shadow of the shrine. It was sunset, and the sun rose in the east. After opening the eastern door, he traveled to the western door and pushed it open. A small amount of sunlight leaked inside, as the sun was still too high to fully illuminate the shrine’s floor.
Having opened the two doors, he returned to the center, where the True Seer Great Owl had returned to after opening the northern door. There was a decent amount of light in the temple now, so Huxian could now inspect the marble extending up the walls and onto the covered roof. There, the black and white marks formed a peculiar pattern. Instead of the usual chaotic, disorganized marks marble was known for, the black and white patterns on the ceiling were clumped together like a massive coiling creature with a long body, complete with large claws and large eyes. Its eyes were reptilian slits, though this creature was far greater than any reptile—it was a dragon.
Something tugged at Huxian’s ancestral memories when he saw the image, but nothing came of it. So he looked on in amusement as the owl retrieved something demons normally wouldn’t use: an oil lamp. He retrieved it from a sealed container, but to Huxian’s surprise, it was already lit.
We hold this ceremony two times a year, the owl explained, bringing the lamp closer to the fireplace. Twice a year, day and night are equal. During these equinoxes, we burn a small bundle of firewood right when the sun is setting. I’m not sure why we do it, but you sure are lucky to come at this exact time. Perhaps this is what they call fate.
It was too great a coincidence, Huxian agreed. Moreover, how could he not see the connection between what he was looking for and the ceremony? A candle, day and night, black and white. Everything balanced. Something tugged at his memories again, and he remembered bits and pieces of a legend. It was about the origins of sunrise and sunset, but the rest of the story eluded him.
The sun sank a little deeper. By now, the True Seer Great Owl and Huxian had erected a small tent of firewood at the center of the room. After waiting a short while, the True Seer Great Owl lit the bundle with the lamp’s small flame. The wood began burning, and as the flame grew, the owl began chanting and hopping on one foot. The sight would have been comedic if not for the hauntingly familiar words he spoke:
Black and white, light and darkness.
Forever in balance, forever in harmony.
Who knows whence came these dancing lights?
Who knows whence came their partner shadows?
The sun loathes the leering darkness,
Which clings to her like a wet blanket;
Her soul shudders in ecstasy as she savors his embrace.
Will they ever meet?
Between light and darkness, fate is uncertain.
Between light and darkness, the moon has no eyes.
Between light and darkness, the vision commences.
A beast awakens, while another sleeps.
True Seer Great Owl’s words echoed through Huxian’s mind as he gazed at the flickering flame. It was a perfect dancing flame that seemed to look back as he peered inside it. The setting sun caused the marble to dance beneath the flickering candle. It was the most surreal thing Huxian had ever seen.
But seeing is believing, and sight is an illusion, Huxian thought. Wait, what am I babbling about? He shook himself from his reverie and realized the sun was halfway to setting. In that moment, everything seemed to pause, to freeze. The flickering flame reached some sort of equilibrium, and when light and darkness were equal, it stopped.
Now it resembled a vertical slit. He looked up and realized why it looked so familiar. That slit was the same as the dragon’s left eye, which was glowing brightly under the light of the small fire.
