Asami chuckled. “Personally, I consider it quite ironic that ye, of all people, Sage, are berating me for acquiring power, when it is ye who was graced with capabilities far beyond the humble boundaries of mortal men by virtue of your birth alone. Your pedigree afforded you powers unparalleled, inconceivable even to this day and age, and not rivalled ever since. It was not your wisdom, not your benevolence, not your virtues, it was solely the strength of your bloodline that raised you to your station, turning you into a figure of legends, of divine reverence, and yet ye seem to deny me the same power ye once called your own. On what grounds, I must ask you. What right do ye have to deny me to aspire what was handed to you by the vagrancies of fate, by a fluke of luck? What is the reason I cannot be what ye once were?”
“... ... ...” Hagoromo pondered his words with care. His old hands gripped his staff. “Long hath it been that I have been challenged with such vigour. Thou, child, art a formidable opponent indeed. I can see now as to why not only the magatama, but also the sharingan have chosen thee. They both would be inevitably drawn to the strength of thy soul.”
“...” Asami listened.
“Judging by thy words, I assume that thou accusest me of hypocrisy?”
“Hypocrisy is such an unbecoming word.” Her lips mustered a smirk. “A matter of fact; I do not question your sincerity, which I do not doubt. I question, however, the validity of your views.”
“...” The sage met her words with a healthy degree of scepticism, yet he didn't dismiss her outright. “I am listening. Enlighten me, child.”
“Your wish is my command.” Asami returned a polite bow. “It hath not escaped me that your personage harboureth a deep distrust towards power in general, a sentiment undoubtedly inspired by the nefarious deeds of your mother and her eventual fall, and the tragic fate that later befell your sons. Both, your mother and your son, fell to the corrupting lure of power. The truth is, ye fear power, Hagoromo, to the point of being willing to forsake it. Ye wandered the world to assist people in need and preach the way of ninshu, all to bring peace and order to a world torn by war.”
“...” Hagoromo closed his eyes. “Thou hath studied the tablet well, child, much more thoroughly than most of your ancestors, although I should not be surprised. The children of Indra always tended to be more perceptive than their more naive siblings. It is as you say, my mother and my son served me as warning examples, yet I fail to see thy point.”
“Your emotions are clouding your judgement, a reaction only far too human. Confronted with the abyss of madness, and hatred, ye came to perceive power as a force of evil. An understandable view, yet erroneous. Power is first and foremost a matter of fact, not of morality, and surely not of categories such as good and evil. Power is an amoral force. Whether it will be used as a force of good or a force of evil, depends entirely on its wielder, a fact ye seem to have forgotten. It was your power, not the righteousness of your cause, that enabled you to challenge and defeat your mother. It was your power that allowed you to travel the land and to spread the way of your ninshu. It was your power that let you shape history to this day. In fact, the very fact that we are able to talk after centuries, or even millennia, of your mortal shell passing is due to the inherent strength of your soul. Ye were given so much to the power granted to you, in an abundance unimaginable, and yet ye are keen to deny me the same privilege? Grant me the power I strive for, I was born for.”
“But to what end, my child?” Hagaromo sighed. “Whither shalleth thy path lead thee?”
“Does it truly matter? I don't think so, the necessity of purpose is vastly overrated by lesser spirits, although I cannot deny that I am driven by ambition. In the end, I am only human. Regardless of rationality and logic, it is my heart that yearns for strength, for power, for glory, for battle, for the pulsating essence of life beyond the mundanity of reality. It is the exhilaration of power, admittedly motivated by egoistic desires, that gives me a sense of purpose, a sense of living in this cursed world where all sins and virtues are washed away. I have long since come to the conclusion that deep down, I am who I am, and there is no sense in denying myself. I am Asami. I follow my heart, my dreams, my incessant yearning. I am a force beyond destiny, a force beyond good and evil.”
“... ... ...”
“Ye appear lost for words, Sage. Is something wrong?”
“Thou possess an honest heart, child. Far more honest than those of your predecessors. Thou art a curious girl. The thirst for power is strong in thee, rivalling those of my son and my mother, and yet thou appearest to retain control over thy will.” Hagoromo closed his eyes, thinking. “What wilt thou do with such power once acquired?”
“Do I sense distrust in thy words? Ye are worried whether I might misuse my power for the wrong purposes.”
“Understandably so.” Her lips smirked. “Rest assured, though, I am not a bad person, although dissenting opinions would argue the contrary based on ethical and moral considerations I can hardly dispute. In the end, however, I was never able to relinquish my humanity. In the depth of my heart, I remain a deeply political animal, socialised and trained as such. Ye assert that power requireth a purpose. You are quite right, the human soul craves for a noble cause worth fighting for, for a higher calling worth to be championed. I am only too eager to render my humble assistance to guide their visions, their dreams, their hopes. When I look around, what do I see, Hagoromo? I see an imperfect world, a world full of injustice, a world ruled by the iron fists of a few select villages and an uncaring oligarchy. I hear the cries of this world, Hagoromo. It is a world crying for salvation, yearning for change. Doth this satisfy your curiosity?”
...
...
...
“... ... ... I finally begin to understand.” Hagoromo's staff hit the surface of the water, causing ripples to expanded throughout the empty void. “Our ways will part here, child of Indra, as I will take my leave of thee. I cannot agree with thy ways, yet it is not my place to disagree, nor do I possess the strength to fight thee. It would be futile to deny thee what thou wouldest easily take by force, like as so many of thy forebears did. Go forth, Asami, child of Indra, claim what is thine. I only hope thou wilt wield thy power wisely.” His figure dissolved, and his presence vanished.
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Asami’s eyes shot open, only to be met by the bright, radiant light of reality. Her consciousness returned to the world of the living, as her heart resumed beating, her lungs inhaled the vigour of fresh air, and her blood was circulating again through her veins, retunring her from the brink of death to the world of the living. Her lips wore a satisfied smile, holding her magatama, her precious prize, securely in her hands. The jewel glimmered purple in honour of its new mistress ...
“NEE-SAN~!!!” Yuki ambushed her, tackling her to the ground with a tight hug and all the strength of her love. Yuki's petite arms embraced her beloved nee-san. Her eyes were welling up with tears, as sadness was written all over her face. “Nee-san~, you have returned. We already thought we had lost you.”
Asami turned to her sister, ruffling her hair. “Why are you so sad, Yuki-chan?”
Yuki rubbed her eyes, wiping away the salty tears from her cheeks. “Nee-san suddenly fell unconscious. And you wouldn't wake up anymore.”
Asami blinked, her memory fuzzy. “Is ... that true?”
“Indeed”, Raiden confirmed Yuki's version of the events. “You fell unconscious, Lady Asami. The magatama seems to have interacted with your chakra before entering your body, causing a sudden loss of consciousness.”
“I see.” Asami mustered a subdued giggle, rewarding her even more precious Yuki with a warm smile. “Now I have returned, there is no reason for you to worry any more.”
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Assurbanipal_II
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