Shifter s Curse White Spire Academy 2

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 Shifter’s Curse

Shifter Paranormal Romance

White Spire Academy
2

Copyright © 2021 Victoria Mercier

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any

manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a
retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise,
without the written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, groups,
businesses, and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places
or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This book contains sexual situations and adult themes. Recommended for 18 and
above.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
About the Author
 Other books
The Academy of Dragons
The Blood of Dragons
The Tears of Unicorns
The Flesh of Titans
The Forgotten Chains
The Darkness Unleashed

The Academy of Dragons Box Set & Bonus

Story

The Dark Fae Academy

The Last Year
The Last Fey

Dark Fae Academy Bundle: Reverse Harem

Romance + Bonus Story
 Chapter 1

I watched Jaye pace between pillars. Behind him, spread the

wonderful panorama of the White City. I feasted my eyes on the
clear, hazeless vista but instead of happiness, I felt bitterness. While
the druids died in the Ash Lands because of the magically radioactive
haze, the Shining Ones enjoyed this paradise.
Jaye stopped and glanced at me. He hoped I’d stay in the palace for
the school year. The decision of where I was staying had slipped out
of his hands recently. I suspected his mother meddled in our affairs.
She couldn’t stomach my presence in the palace and even less the
fact that her husband protected me. Why he’d done so I didn’t know
and didn’t want to learn.
The entire palace was like a pit of snakes. Even servants schemed
and spread rumours like wildfire. I’d quickly learned that no one
could be trusted inside these walls.
“You still can withdraw from the academy,” Jaye said to me.
“The whole reason I came here… why I survived your mother’s sick
tournament was to enter the academy.”
“You don’t need the academy. You can stay in the palace by my side.
You’ll have everything you’ll ask for.”
Jaye was handsome, his warm honey eyes melted whatever they
touched, while his black outfit added an aura of menace. He was a
combination that made women wet. I wasn’t resistant to his charm
by any measure but we lacked the mysterious connection I’d
experienced with Valiant.
Maybe I couldn’t appreciate the gesture Jaye and his father were
offering to me or maybe I just didn’t trust them enough to open
myself to Jaye the way he expected me to. During our walks through
the corridors of the palace, we’d passed female servants that
watered my mouth, so beautiful they were. Jaye had not seemed to
see them. I couldn’t understand what he saw in me…
“I need to attend the academy,” I told him. “And besides, won’t we
see each other every day there?”
“We’ll,” Jaye agreed as he strode toward me. “But the thought that
my brother will be there… he sickens me after what he’s done to
you.” Jaye shuddered.
I turned away from Jaye, hiding my conflicted expression. I. Hate.
Valiant, I had to remind myself as intruding emotions started
wreaking havoc in my chest. Jaye placed his hands on my shoulders
and his fingers gently squeezed my muscles sending down relaxing
energy.
Talking about Valiant always created tension between us. It was my
fault. I’d not explained to him the growing dichotomy inside me
where one part hated Valiant while the other one craved him like an
addict. Even with my best effort, I still couldn’t hide my true
emotions from Jaye. He recognized quivering in my voice when we
spoke about Valiant and so I preferred to avoid the topic. The only
problem was that Valiant wasn’t a topic easily avoided. He was the
heir of the White Flame and his every move was talked about.
Servants were the worst. When they thought that no one was
listening to them they were cruel, their words full of spite and
venom. Things they said about Valiant… I couldn’t accept it. I’d
confronted them and it only turned against me. Without having the
royal blood or an official position within the palace’s structures, I
could do nothing but return their venom in my words. It wasn’t
enough to put fear in them.
Their arrogance didn’t appear out of nowhere. Jaye later confirmed
that he couldn’t fire them because of his mother. She was the cause
of why the servants were obnoxious toward me when confronted.
Did Jaye really expect me to stay in the palace? It was an exquisite,
spacious place full of luxury difficult to imagine even after a week
spent here. But underneath the beautiful façade, it was a place full
of people with rotten hearts and dark intentions. With Jaye gone and
the White Flame never present, who would protect me? The answer
was simple and obvious – no one.
“I have to go to the academy,” I said with more force than I
intended, forgetting that Jaye Regentstar was a prince and if not for
his father, I would be in his mercy. I liked him but I was also scared
of how powerful these people were. If they wished, they could throw
me out of the island and no one would protest.
That abyss between us made me feel alienated despite Jaye’s hot
kisses. I shivered and Jaye took it as a sign to hug me. I let him
embrace me, I closed my eyes feeling his strong arms wrap around
my chest. It was comforting despite the circumstances.
A knocking on the door shattered the moment, Jaye unwillingly
unpeeled himself from me and called out to whoever was on the
other side of the door, telling them to enter.
A defiant brunette cracked a door and glanced inside. When she
noticed me, a wide smile split her face. Jaye beckoned her inside
and instructed her to close the door behind.
She did so, bowing deeply to show respect to Jaye who waved us
away. Like two arrows, we shot forward, embracing. Since our arrival
in the White City, we didn’t see each other. All my daily requests
were denied because of some imaginary security concerns. What
kind of threat was Geneve in the face of all the armed and trained
guards? I was sure that the royals had other, more subtle methods
of keeping themselves safe.
We went to the balcony and leaned on the railing. The warm wind
messed our hair and we stood like this, in silence, for a while.
“I can’t believe it,” Geneve said.
“That we made it?”
“No. Well, yes. But not only that. This.” She made a sweeping
gesture with her arm. “The palace of Regentstars. This is big,
Morrigan.”
I had to admit that I hardly believed it myself. One day I was living
in the Ash Lands, fearing I would grow old and die there, a tiny
shadow of who I could become, then everything happened so
quickly after Luoo had died. It felt like a dream… or rather a
nightmare. A very bad nightmare.
“You don’t say,” I told her with a sad smirk. “Most of the time I don’t
know what’s happening around me.”
“I can’t blame you. They led me through a labyrinth to get here. I
don’t even remember the way back.”
“That’s why I don’t leave my rooms—usually.” It was an easy lie.
Well, there was a grain of truth to it as well. A week wasn’t enough
to learn the palace that seemed to be larger than the city of Paras…
Thinking of Paras always left a sour aftertaste. It reminded me about
Claud and my imprisonment there. I shoved the dark memories out
of my mind before their poisonous roots could spoil our reunion.
Geneve recounted her story, telling me about her room at the
academy and her visit there. She told me that the academy was as
large and confusing as the palace but we’d have personal guides
there. Hearing it, uplifted my spirit, although I couldn’t envision how
the academy was going to afford guides for all of us. There had to
be a catch.
“We can see it from here.” Geneve pointed at the sprawling complex
on the mountainside on the other side of the White City. “All of this
is the White Spire. The academy of the Shining Ones.” I frowned at
her proud tone. Geneve I remembered had been much more
reserved than her. It didn’t make me wary of her but I wondered
why was that. It has to be the tournament’s fault. We were all
convinced that we’d die.
Geneve glanced at me, picking up the tension.
“What’s the matter?” she asked in a hushed voice.
I was not going to talk about her change right now. We barely met
and I didn’t wish to ruin our reunion. But I couldn’t just dismiss her
question. I’d be rude and make her suspicious.
It wasn’t hard to find another concern as was grappling with one
when she knocked. I squinted, looking past the pillars into an open
room where Jaye was supposed to be. He wasn’t there. I didn’t
know how to describe it but Jaye’s living space consisted of five
massive chambers, a spa-like bathroom, a swimming pool, a private
garden and a spacious balcony we occupied right now. Being sure
that he couldn’t overhear us, I said, “It’s… I don’t know. It seems
like a dream after waking up from a horror. I live in a palace, Jaye
likes me very much and I like him more every day. But there are
dark undercurrents in this place. Servants hate me. Queen hates me.
Valiant… Valiant…” I trailed off.
“The heir. You still haven’t gotten over him.”
I sighed.
“It’s not that easy,” I replied. “He’s turned out to be the worst kind of
man you can run into. He gave up on me in my darkest hour and
now he hasn’t even bothered to come and explain.”
“He’s the heir to the most powerful city in the world. I’d expect no
less from him.”
“What?”
“I mean, he’s arrogant and he’s an asshole.”
“Ah. Yes. He’s that for sure.”
“What’s wrong with Prince Jaye? He looks good.”
“It’s not that how he looks. The problem is… well, I don’t know how
to describe it, but with Valiant I felt that gravity between us, a kind
of connection. With Jaye… it’s absent. I fear…”
“Ladies.” Jaye appeared between pillars. He approached us with a
confident gait. As he stopped, he placed softly a hand on my
shoulder. While Geneve looked a little mesmerized, Jaye showed no
interest in her. “There happen to be a fair nearby. We can take my
flying platform and visit it. What do you think?”
Geneve looked at me knowing it was my decision to make. Getting
out of the palace? Hell yeah.
“Sure.”
 *

The palace lay on the mountainside like the academy. Seeing the
palace from the flying platform left me speechless. Geneve looked
stricken as well. It wasn’t only that palace spread for a mile in all
directions but its terraces full of gardens, pools, and exquisite
architecture were simply out of this world.
Once more I felt anger, seeing these wonders and comparing them
to the Ash Lands. How unfair it was. The Shining Ones could bring
all the druids to their island, not necessarily to the White City, and
they wouldn’t even see much of a difference. They could shove the
argument about the sin of our ancestors into their asses. I had
nothing to do with their decisions and I wouldn’t be perceived
through the prism of those who had lived before me.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Your gardens have waterfalls,” Geneve murmured. “I saw one at the
academy but it wasn’t anything as lovely as those.” Seriously?
Geneve! What’s wrong with you?
“The academy’s a poor copy of the palace,” Jaye said, not looking at
her.
The platform eventually reached the bottom of the mountainside.
The palace guards stood everywhere. The massive wall and gate
separated the platform landing from the street.
They gave our trio rings with strong tracking spells and told us that
an incognito squad would follow us. Jaye accepted it without
expression and led us to a wall where a contour of a door appeared.
Before Jaye pushed it, he used a spell and his outfit changed. He
wore a deep black hood now. A shadow obscured his face so well
that I wouldn’t recognize him if he passed me by on a street.
“It’s necessary,” he whispered. “My face… you’ll see for yourself.”
I didn’t inquire. He pushed the wall and the magical door opened,
revealing a street on the other side. At first, I thought the
bystanders would notice and swarm us. It didn’t happen and they
just passed us by.
“What the fuck?” Geneve muttered.
A shadowy smile was the only reply Jaye gave. We followed him
until the pristine wall of the palace ended, there he turned toward a
park where only a handful of people were strolling with leashed
animals. Before the war, humans used to own dogs and cats but the
creatures the Shining Ones owned belonged to a nightmare rather
than to the long-lost world. Neither Geneve nor Jaye seemed to be
taken aback by the otherworldly appearance of the pets.
People no longer behaved as if we were invisible, but no one
bothered us beyond a few curious looks. White hair wasn’t terribly
popular in the palace and I imagined the city to be no different. We
paid them no mind and while their pets looked horrifying, they didn’t
hold my attention for long. The park itself was what interested me.
The gardens in the palace were so pampered that they looked
artificial. The park—while well-maintained—lacked the polish the
palace gardens had. It made the park more real and accessible.
The lush greenery of the park was friendly and open when I reached
it through my druid magic. The palace gardens were locked away by
spells. My senses couldn’t reach the plants there. It’d felt out of
place to be so close the nature and yet so far away. Here, I had a
chance to reconnect with it.
I slowed down, enjoying the sensation nature had on me. The park
was quite large and it put a strain on me to reach its ends. But I
held it, keeping my mind from drifting away and joining the soothing
call of nature.
“Morrigan, you okay?” A soft voice of Geneve got through.
I shook off the mesmerizing sensation and focused on her. Jaye
stood a little farther away.
“Yeah, I am fine,” I replied, feeling revolution in my stomach and my
mind spin. Geneve caught me before dived on the pavement.
“You used your magic?” She asked and I nodded.
“The parks so close to the palace have protective spells on them
too,” Jaye said when he stepped closer. You could warn me, I
thought instead of saying because I didn’t want to risk throwing up.
Geneve asked if we could wait until I got better but Jaye explained
that the spell’s shelflife was more than a day and he silently called in
one of his men who came with an antidote. I took it and
immediately got better but felt like a fool.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s not your fault,” Jaye said. “You don’t need to be sorry.”
The fair wasn’t far away from the palace. Whatever spell kept Jaye’s
identity hidden, did an amazing job. Not a single person recognized
him. I also understood what he’d meant earlier when I saw the large
posters and statues of the royal family. Seeing the picture of Valiant
didn’t do me any good, it reminded me of why I couldn’t just forget
about this fucker. The worst thing was, I felt like I could forgive him
everything if he just asked me to. It wasn’t fair to Jaye who had
helped me survive the tournament.
“I love it,” Geneve said.
I glanced at her not being able to decipher if she was lying or not.
Didn’t she escape the White City in the first place? Her unexpected
change irked me to the point where I considered asking her about it,
but with Jaye around, I decided against it. His people were following
us and I was pretty sure that they’d eavesdrop on us. I didn’t think
that the queen would leave me alone. I could only guess how many
of the soldiers following us worked for her.
“It’s… magical.” That was the only word that fitted this place.
Children ran around holding talking balloons and food—that
resembled characters from the stories Luoo had read to me when I’d
been a child myself—rather than actual food. Spells were thrown
around, producing harmless magical explosions. Ethereal dragons
and other nameless animals flew through people causing them to
jump up, startled.
It wasn’t magic that hit me the most but the atmosphere of the fair.
Happiness, joy, merriment. They were so thick in the air that the
whole event felt like a dream.
Jaye slowed down, allowing the throng of people to carry us around.
We kept close to him. I eyed everything with a stupid grin. For a
short moment, I was a child in an adult body. I wished to join the
running children and play with the animated toys.
Geneve took my arm when I started to wander away from them.
“Stay close,” she whispered. “You don’t want to lose yourself here.”
“What?” I asked. She made no sense.
“I’ll explain it later.” She winked not letting go of me.
Jaye eventually stopped by the tallest tower in the amusement park.
It must be at least two hundred feet tall.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The Tower of Anglad. It shots a bubble with people inside far into
the sky.”
“There’s a nice view there,” said a voice that froze my blood.
Jaye spun toward the man who wore a simple white T-shirt and
jeans. Even though Valiant’s face wasn’t covered like Jaye’s, he
didn’t look like Valiant but only Valiant’s voice had this effect on me.
 Chapter 2

The tension between Jaye and Valiant grew as they stared at each
other.
“What are you doing here?” Jaye asked.
“Not your business,” Valiant replied in a cold tone. “Brother.”
Valiant stepped up closer to Jaye but Jaye held his ground.
“You’re showing off in front of her… admirable but futile.
“Va—” I started to say as I saw where this was going.
“Don’t,” Valiant silenced me.
Jaye didn’t like his tone and he snarled, clenching his fists. They
were slowly drawing the attention of people around. Some children
started pointing at them. A man from the tower’s door strode over
and asked us if we were going to enter the tower or not because we
were holding up the queue. Neither Jaye nor Valiant even glanced at
him so the man turned to me and Geneve.
“What’s up with them? Can’t you take them away?”
It was so weird to see a Shining One without armour and military
bearing that I didn’t respond to him right away. He looked so…
ordinary.
“Are you all deaf?” he asked again, this time with hostility in his
voice.
Valiant reacted lightning-fast, grasping the man by the collar.
“Leave her alone, understood?”
The man didn’t know it was Valiant who held him and he didn’t
intend to back down from this. He whistled and four large men in
black suits with security labels on their chests approached.
“If you don’t want to shit under yourself for another two days, I’d
advise you to let go of me, boy.”
Valiant threw the man on the ground and strode away without a
word. One of the men in a black suit rushed after him. Something
inside tugged me to follow them but I knew I’d regret it if I did so
and so I stayed where I stood. I sensed Jaye’s eyes on me and
Geneve’s finger biting into my arm.
“Let’s go see the tower,” I said, hoping naively to forget about the
incident. There was no forgetting this. Valiant, like thorns, lodged in
my side and kept stabbing it.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Geneve admitted. “The owner of
the tower looks pissed off.”
“He isn’t the owner,” Jaye said. “My family owns this place.”
“Oh.”
But how did he plan to gain access to the tower without revealing
his identity?
Jaye strode over to the tower’s door and faced the row of men who
glared at him with hostility. Geneve and I followed his steps.
“What do you want?” the man in charge asked, he briefly showed a
runes-enhanced baton attached to his belt.
“A beating perhaps,” smirked one of the men. He was large and had
a mean face that didn’t fit a Shining One. How could we—druids—
exalt them so much? They weren’t better than druids. No. They
were just wizards as Isaac from the Shaded Knives had called them.
Something inside me steeled upon seeing the imperfection of the
normal Shining Ones. Jaye showed something to the man in charge
the man’s face lost all its colour. He quickly ushered others away and
invited Jaye inside.
Jayed beckoned to us to follow him.
Geneve pulled me back.
“What’s wrong with him? He’s so… distant.”
“He’s like this in front of others. He doesn’t like to show his emotions
when others are around.”
Geneve nodded to that saying nothing else. I sensed that she
wanted to say more but was too careful to reveal her true feelings
about Jaye.
We entered the tower after Jaye. It was pitch black at first, then
little lights prickled through the veil of darkness. Tens—hundreds—
thousands of them. In a few seconds, the entire interior of the tower
resembled a starry sky. A sky I hadn’t seen until I came here to the
White City.
Out of nowhere, my body lost its entire weight and I started to float.
Others did as well.
“What’s happening?” I asked a little frightened although my question
drowned in Geneve’s cry of excitement.
“Let’s goooooo!”
As she called out, we were shot vertically. My heart lodged in my
throat and I thought I was going to die regardless of the delight on
Geneve’s face. Then the world around us changed and instead of the
darkness prickled with little lights, I saw the White City beneath me.
My first thought was that we’d fall to our deaths. But it didn’t
happen. A bubble appeared around us, keeping us safely floating
inside.
“This is insane,” I muttered.
“It’s impressive,” Geneve agreed.
We looked at Jaye but he remained silent, his eyes distant. He was
upset about his encounter with Valiant. I didn’t blame him. I didn’t
understand why Valiant came here. He’d had to know we were
leaving the palace and had followed us. But to what end? Did he
hate me so much that letting me die in the tournament wasn’t
enough? What else did he want of me? Perhaps, he was a monster
like his mother.
What the fuck am I doing? I asked myself. The most beautiful place
in the world spread beneath me like an architectural jewel, and what
was I doing? I concerned myself with the fucking Valiant. I have to
focus on the view, not Valiant. Obviously, it was easier said than
done. Each time I closed my eyes, I heard his voice and
remembered the taste of his lips, even though it had happened in a
freaking dream.
“Don’t you like it?” Geneve asked and I saw Jaye wince a little upon
seeing my reaction.
“I love it,” I said.

“You still like him,” Jaye said when we entered his chambers. Geneve
decided that she would sleep at the academy and didn’t enter the
palace with us.
“I hate him.”
“It didn’t look this way to me,” Jaye said.
“You’re jealous.”
Jaye snorted but didn’t deny it. He started pacing between the
pillars. The day already turned into the late evening, the lovely blue
sky darkened to an almost black colour and a wind picked up a
speed, ruffling Jaye’s cape. He was back into his usual menace-
evoking outfit, looking like a villain against the majestic view of the
White City.
I came to him, tracing my fingers on his jaw. It was always smooth,
always gentle in touch. He froze when I did it and I smiled. I wanted
to be his. You want it, but you don’t desire it. A treacherous voice in
my head was relentless in souring my mood. I ignored it, focusing
on Jaye.
He stood unmoving for a while, then finally shivered as my caresses
didn’t stop. He placed his hand on my face and kissed my forehead.
“Hey!”
“I am tired, goodnight.”
“Jaye…” I said but he didn’t turn back.
I was dismissed. I’d seen this behaviour with those Jaye thought
were beneath him. Pissed off, I strode out of his chambers and
rushed to my room. I didn’t have the privilege to have several
massive chambers or even a balcony. My room wasn’t small by any
means, but it wasn’t a sign of respect, I didn’t think the palace had
any small rooms. I still loved it though. I didn’t need a private
swimming pool or a garden.
I reached the door when I heard soft steps. I panicked fearing an
assassination. In the tournament, the queen went to substantial
lengths to see me dead. I wouldn’t be surprised to find her
henchmen here.
But of course, I wasn’t that lucky.
Valiant sauntered through the corridor as if the place belonged to
him… well, partially it did. He was the fucking heir.
He faked his surprise when he noticed me but upon the lack of
reaction from me, his expression turned blank.
“I didn’t expect you here,” he said.
“Are you stalking me?”
“Yes.”
“You… what?” What? I tried to wrap my head around him, his words,
the meaning of everything. “Why?”
With an expressionless face, he looked me over, continuing his stroll.
“Oh, so am I not good enough for you to even reply? It's no surprise
that you wanted me dead. Or still want.”
This made him stop.
“Shouldn’t you be with my brother tonight? He didn’t look happy on
your way back.”
“Do you have to be such an asshole?”
“Thread carefully,” Valiant said, his eyes unyielding. “Remember who
you speaking to.”
Despite his menacing tone, it felt inciting rather than threatening
and that was my first misstep. Muddled by the adrenaline and
courage, I decided to confront him.
“So what? Are you going to kill me?” Emotions boiled inside me and
were ready to explode.
Valiant didn’t expect my outburst, his mask cracked a little and I saw
the hesitation in his eyes. I pushed harder, forcing him back, forcing
him to answer my fucking question. Blind rage seized me and I
punched him. To his credit, he didn’t stagger. I didn’t care if he
would hit me back or do something worse.
When tears started flowing, my emotions evaporated and I felt like a
husk—empty and weak. I lost the fuel that drove my anger.
Valiant held my hands, our faces mere inches apart. I could smell his
perfumes. His violet eyes sparked with their own version of rage. He
was fighting it, for better or for worse. Then he let go of me and
strode away without a word.

Valiant shook with rage. He couldn’t comprehend why she’d chosen

his brother over him why she disliked him so much. He’d helped her
and this was how she repaid him. Furious, he charged away from
her and her traitorous character.
He eventually came to a palace garden that sprawled on a massive
terrace from which a view of the White City’s grand architecture was
almost perfect. The little imperfection wasn’t an error on the side of
the architects and designers but the deliberate message from the
White Flame who held the best location and view.
Any of this meant nothing to Valiant right now. Despite his best
efforts, Morrigan was entwined in his thoughts so thoroughly, he
didn’t see a way to pull her out of his mind.
His brother’s betrayal was expected. Jaye shouldn’t ever be trusted.
He was a snake that schemed like their mother. The only consolation
in the web of intrigues and lies was his mother’s failure to remove
Morrigan from the White City and the academy. She’d sought to kill
her several times, losing a chunk of her political and royal capital in
the process.
Valiant’s father gained a massive advantage because of his mother’s
blunder. But it was a solitary silver lining in the otherwise bleak
outlook of things. The White Flame decided to side with Jaye,
dragging Valiant through corridors like a sack of potatoes.
Those who accompanied Deon in that shameful act were already
dead. Valiant had seen to that. Killing Deon proved harder than
Valiant anticipated. The old man had loyal guards in the palace who
reported to Valiant’s father what the heir was planning. His father
made his message clear and only to Valiant’s ears – if Deon died,
he’d make his son pay dearly for this overstepping. It didn’t matter
who or why killed Deon now, it’d be all on Valiant.
This barely scratched the barrels of his worries as he strolled the
paths of the garden.
Why is she so defiant? So angry … resentful? It was his brother’s
doing. As long as Jaye was in the picture, Morrigan would never be
in Valiant’s reach.
Frustration shot through him like a bolt of lightning and Valiant fired
a spell destroying a rare tree in the middle of the garden. He set off
the alarm and soon this place would swarm with guards seeking the
source of the destruction. For a second, Valiant desired nothing else
but to kill anyone who would appear on the path leading here.
The urge had passed before the first guards rushed to the scene.
“Radiant One, what happened?”
“Nothing,” Valiant replied finding it harder to keep the reins on his
rage. He couldn’t be around people right now.
He left them confused, not caring a bit. He found his room and
picked a bottle of alcohol from a nightstand. It was half-empty
already. He cursed. That was the last bottle the palace alchemist had
made for him. His parents agreed to ban it. Valiant couldn’t tell what
they tried to do – punish or help him? There were always other kinds
of alcohol. He didn’t need to like the taste to get drunk.
No, he decided. His parents were petty and couldn’t care less about
his well-being.
Speaking of a devil…
His mother bypassed his security measures and entered his living
chambers. Her face was an emotionless mask but Valiant knew to
never rely on facial expressions to notice the cues. What mattered
were out of ordinary behaviours. One of hers was that she never had
entered without asking for permission. It was a blunt act and Valiant
suspected that she did so deliberately.
Normally, he’d greet her politely but he didn’t care.
“I’ve heard about your stunt.”
“I’m not a druid to care about trees.”
“Druid?” she asked with a raised brow.
“Yes,” Valiant replied shortly.
“Since when we call the Forsaken Ones by their old name?”
Valiant looked at his mother, gathering strength to challenge her by
not answering. She was the queen and he—even as her son—was
still her subject and ignoring her question would be a crime.
“Since I’ve met Morrigan.”
She sighed annoyed.
“What’s it with you and that girl?”
“I could ask you the same question. You were trying to kill her
during the tournament.”
“She doesn’t belong here,” his mother said, not pointing out that he
hadn’t answered her question. “Killing her during the tournament
would’ve been mercy. Anyway, enough about her. She doesn’t matter
to me. I want to know why did you confront Jaye in the amusement
park?”
“I had an incognito spell on me. No one recognized me.”
“No. But Jaye later revealed his identity to one of the men and it’s
leaked.”
“Then why aren’t you talking to him?” Valiant’s tone was a notch too
harsh and his mother flinched. He should back down and say sorry
but he couldn’t. His body was filled with anger and rage and they
clouded his judgment.
“I don’t like that tone,” she said softly. It was a threat.
Valiant opened a bottle and gulped the rest of it. Was she
threatening him? Fine! He wasn’t afraid of this delusional woman. He
was the heir, the man called the Radiant One and feared across the
Angland and the Ash Lands.
“I haven’t invited you here and you haven’t asked for permission to
enter. I won’t be—”
The orange light was all he saw before his unconscious body fell on
the floor.
 Chapter 3

The Queen’s hands still glowed orange from the spell she had used
on her son. He crossed the line and she couldn’t tolerate it. She was
already in a difficult position because of her wagers during the
tournament. Her husband would exploit it against her.
I made an error. Somewhere. But she wasn’t sure where. She’d
hoped to kill the girl and put the blame on her husband slowly
honing Valiant to be the tool of revenge. That plan didn’t work out.
Worse. Her husband had given the Forsaken girl protection she as
the queen should be careful to not violate.
What bothered her above it all was that both of her sons seemed to
be in love with her. Falling in love was very hard for the Shining
Ones – the price of their magical bloodline. But her sons, they were
special and she only knew why. Revealing her secret would’ve cost
them their lives and her title of the Queen, if not more.
For that thing alone the Queen needed to remove the girl from the
picture. Her influence over her sons was too dangerous.
The Queen left unconscious Valiant where he’d dropped. He’d be
fine although he’d wake up with a rather nasty headache resistant to
healing potions. This would be a reminder to him to never do this
again.
As she returned to her living chambers, Buiron appeared from the
shadows.
“My Queen, we’ve made required adjustments to the amusement
park’s staff.”
“Good. What about the academy?”
Buiron hesitated.
“My trusted informant told me that White Flame’s people are
monitoring the black market hitman contracts. Even if we hire a
hitman through a proxy, they’ll know.”
The Queen sighed.
“What would you advise then?”
“Let the court do its job. Spread a rumour or two about the marriage
of Valiant or Jaye but with some important house’s scion. Then
another rumour—that the girl may endanger the marriage. It’ll push
the houses to eliminate her without our involvement.”
“What after she’s disposed of? What do we do with the marriage?”
“It was only a rumour. The palace knows nothing about it.”
“Good. Make it happen.” The Queen liked it.
Buiron nodded and withdrew back into the shadow, leaving through
one of the secret passages.
 Chapter 4

The first day of the academy arrived and it filled me with dread. Jaye
made sure to fund my stay in the academy, including a full range of
outfits—casual and uniforms. A ‘small’ lump sum to accommodate
my immediate needs was also deposited in my account. I had no
idea what to do with so much money or with money whatsoever. In
the Ash Lands, we hadn’t used money. We bartered goods and
exchanged services. It’d worked for us just fine. It also meant I had
no idea how to use money.
“Don’t stress it,” Jaye said, forgetting how he’d hated the idea of me
attending the academy just a few days ago. His change came
unexpectedly and abruptly. “It’s just a school.”
“Easy for you to say,” I replied. “I…” I almost told him I didn’t think it
was a good idea to go to the academy after all. I stopped myself
from telling him that. He’d tuck me in the palace for the rest of my
days. I wasn’t a Shining One, I was a druidess, and my social
standing in the eyes of the people of the White City was near the
bottom.
“You what?” Jaye asked with a smirk, hoping to tease the answer
from me.
“I haven’t had a formal education,” I said. It wasn’t a lie but not the
full truth either. Druid education was all about mentoring and
learning what was important to survive. The White Spire academy
needed none of that.
We left the palace through a secret exit and entered a vehicle that
transported us above the city toward the academy. With every
minute that passed, I grew nervous. But at least, I wasn’t alone.
Jaye didn’t fare any better. He was biting his lower lip, which was the
giveaway of his emotional state.
During our travel that lasted roughly fifteen minutes, my treacherous
mind wished to know if Valiant would be there as well. After our
encounter in the corridor, he didn’t show himself to me and I wasn’t
inclined to ask Jaye or staff where was he.
I hated myself for those desires, they were self-destructive. Valiant
hadn’t cared if I died or not. He hadn’t bothered helping while Jaye
had saved my life. Now, that I survived, Valiant reignited his interest
in me for some reason. Couldn’t he stand that I was with his
brother? Tough luck, he needed to deal with it.
When the vehicle stopped, we glanced at each other. Doubt crossed
our faces.
“Don’t stress it,” I said, hoping to lift the mood.
“I am fine,” he lied.
The door opened and we were let out into an underground garage.
A woman with a long crooked nose and stiff posture greeted Jaye
with faked reverence. Jaye accepted the greetings with a royal
composure I’d seen in him a few times, then the woman turned to
me and the corners of her lips dropped a little bit. She didn’t voice
her displeasure but her expression was the statement of her feelings
about me. At least, she isn’t faking it.
“Morrigan, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a second name?”
“No.”
She stiffly nodded. A younger woman, wearing a black skirt that put
red even onto my cheeks handed a sheet of paper to the
Headmistress. She glanced at the content and gave the sheet back.
“The rules of our academy are very strict when it comes to keeping
female and male students apart. You will not be house in the same
dormitories I am afraid, my Prince.”
Jaye’s eyes jumped between the gathered people. Seven women
and four men. I couldn’t decide if I liked the fact that the staff here
wore skirts so short they should not bother wearing them altogether.
I liked it even less that they glared at Jaye like hungry dogs…
bitches in this case. I wasn’t exactly jealous, more like disturbed by
their poor presentation and behaviour.
“That’s fine.”
They all bowed down, the females didn’t fail to show their cleavages.
Jaye accept it with a delicate nod and asked the Headmistress to
show us our rooms.

I was intercepted on my way to my room by Geneve.

“Hey,” she said. She was already in the academic outfit – a white
shirt, navy blouse, and navy skirt only a little longer than the staff
girls.
“Why can’t we wear something more modest?” I asked.
“Dresscode,” replied a female from the staff that had presented
herself as Fayette. Fayette had red vibrant hair, thin eyebrows, and
squinted exotic eyes I’d never seen among druids. She was also
beautiful with a body on a delicate side rather than athletic. “The
Headmistress says she wants to see us… like this and we do as she
says.”
There was a note to her voice, a bit of amusement but also
hesitation. I couldn’t place her emotions very well because I wasn’t
adept at socializing even though I had friends in my village.
At least she seemed friendly.
“You’ll be fine, Morrigan,” Geneve said with a bright smile that had a
mischievous undernote to it. “The skirts are very comfortable and
you have a good ass.”
“Excuse me?”
Fayette smiled, seeing my distress.
“Don’t worry, can I call you by your name?” Fayette asked.
“Sure.”
“Don’t worry, Morrigan. The academy is quite relaxed with some
rules.” She winked and I totally didn’t understand what she meant
by that.
“I don’t know what you're talking about…”
Only the good nurtured laugh was her reply. The interior of the
academy resembled the palace in everything but luxury and
splendour. It had high ceilings, wide corridors and black walls that
contrasted the white marble floors. It missed the fine details like
tables, mirrors, chandeliers, though it had paintings. Elegant ones at
that.
“I hope there’s a map because I feel like we’ve entered a labyrinth.”
“You lived in a palace. The academy isn’t half its size.”
Fayette squinted at me, curiosity bubbling in her eyes. She craved
gossip, I realized.
“I stayed mostly with Jaye in his living chambers,” I said hoping it’d
satisfy them.
“He has a private garden,” Geneve said in a conspiratory tone.
“He has a private garden?” Fayette asked. “You’re joking.”
“No. There’s more…”
“Why the corridors are almost desolated?” I asked, steering the topic
away from the palace.
Fayette looked around and without a surprise explained.
“Today’s unofficial first day of the academy. Those who have already
arrived arrange their rooms.”
“What do you mean?”
“Depending on your classes, you will have different needs. Some
people need an alchemical lab others a dummy to practice offensive
spells. You may need a bit of your own private garden to train your
magic.”
Whaaat?
Many turns later we finally arrived before a tall two-sided door. To
my dismay, this section didn’t look any different from the others.
“I wasn’t joking about the map,” I said aghast.
Fayette placed her hand on my shoulder.
“Each student receives a magical bracelet that will help you
navigate.” She showed a golden bracelet with inscribed runes on it.
“They're very simple spells. You only have to say the number of the
room you wish to get to and the bracelet will show you the way.”
“Alright…”
“Now before we go inside. The security spell. Place your hand on the
door.”
I did as she asked me.
A pale blue light broke away from Fayette’s hand and attached itself
to mine. It then spread all over the door liked a web.
“You can take your hand off,” Fayette said when the blue glow faded
away.
“I felt nothing,” I said.
“Yeah, the spell made the security system recognize you. Try it.”
I pushed the door, it revealed another, smaller corridor but in the
same design as everything else. There were several doors on each
side. They couldn’t be all for me.
Fayette pulled a note from a pocket and glance at it.
“Your number’s five.”
Each door had an inlaid gold number. We stopped by the door with
the number five.
“Do I have to repeat the spell?”
“No.”
It was incredible how complex the Shining Ones’ magic was. My
heart fluttered with anticipation as I pushed the door inside. What
would my room look like? The room in the palace—while for the
palace standards—was rather poor. If I was to compare it to
anything outside the palace, then I couldn’t say I’d seen anything
such luxurious. Not that I saw many rooms outside of the palace. In
fact, this one would be the first.
As we entered inside, the soft lights awoke to life, revealing the
large rectangular room. It was stripped of everything. Just white
walls. The flutter changed into a sinking feeling. There was nowhere
to sleep!
“This…”
I had no idea what to say. I wanted to cry. Geneve and Fayette
noticed my expression and hastened with explanations.
“Don’t worry, we’ll populate the room with anything you need. It’s a
matter of spell or two.”
“Mine looked like this as well,” Geneve added. “Now it’s all nice and
cosy with a full fridge.”
It was nice to hear that she didn’t lose her character entirely. It
bothered me how easily Geneve forgot about Thierry Li, Emer, Kane,
and even Fiske. Since our reunion here, she didn’t mention them at
all and brushed away my every attempt of bringing the topic to the
table. I didn’t understand her metamorphosis but then she knew
them much better than me. Maybe this was her way of dealing with
the pain. I had my own way and I still couldn’t get over Luoo, Claud,
and Lauren.
“Here.” Fayette handed me a brochure she’d conjured out of thin air
a moment ago. “There are different designs of the rooms. Pick one.”
The brochure had over twenty of them but only one appealed to me.
It had so much green in it, it felt like a forest. Fayette nodded,
throwing the brochure onto the floor.
“Step outside,” she instructed. We complied.
“They use quite complex magic at the academy,” Geneve noted. “I
am surprised to find them make such a leap.”
“What… do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself.” Once again she brushed my
question away. She didn’t explain her remark at the amusement park
either. “Let’s see your new room.”
“Already?”
“Yup.”

My new room lacked the luxurious high-end finish of my palace’s

accommodation and neither possessed its size or splendour. It didn’t
have thick carpets or uniquely created furniture with a bed large
enough to fit several people.
My new room was so much better though. Wooden panels, large
green plants in the massive pots filled with real soil, and a shelf that
would be full of books in no time, made this place feel like home I’d
never possessed but always wanted.
To save space, the bed, small kitchen, and bathroom were magically
retractable. I couldn’t use the Shining One’s magic to make it work
but it turned out that touching runes was enough to activate
preprogrammed spells already in place. This level of magic was
insanely complex and I couldn’t understand why they didn’t reclaim
the Ash Lands and turn it into a living land as it’d used to be in the
past. Neither Geneve nor Fayette explained to me why the Shining
Ones didn’t do so.
Fayette didn’t linger long, having other students to attend. I was
given priority because of my connection to Jaye Regentstar but she
told me in confidence that the Headmistress disliked the royal family
and the court and I shouldn’t expect leniency from her.
It was a great start to know that the Headmistress had aversion to
anything related to the royal palace. I was kind of in the same boat.
If not for Jaye I’d openly declare so. It wouldn’t be the smartest
move, taking into consideration the White Flame’s protection from
the Queen’s hatred.
Anyway, I shouldn’t bother myself with the palace right now.
According to Fayette, the academy possessed enough autonomy to
not be worried about the royal schemes. I wasn’t so sure if the royal
palace’s schemes could be avoided but the naïve belief gave me a
shred of hope of having a normal student life.
One more thing I neglected to mention, and I was really happy
about, was a small corner greenhouse with artificial sunlight and a
couple of vegetable and fruit plants. Fayette gave me heads-up and
explained the purpose of the greenhouse. Druids and druidess
couldn’t use the Shining Ones’ magic, so instead, we learned how to
manipulate plants in order to grow whatever we desired.
Nonetheless, there were things we shared with the Shining Ones,
like alchemy or runes. From another brochure I received, the first-
year classes didn’t look that hard. It was mostly theory and plant
manipulations with elements of history and general knowledge.
Remembering Emer’s skilful druid magic, gave me a goal to strive
for. But there was more I wished for, more than I’d ever allowed
myself to desire – I hoped to change the world or at least a part of
it. I wished to transform the Ash Lands, to make it green and
beautiful.
I did the first step. I reached the academy. Now, I needed to best it.
 Chapter 5

By the evening of the same day, I was so nervous, I couldn’t sit still.
I put the bracelet on and said Geneve’s room’s number aloud. The
bracelet filled my awareness with knowledge of how to reach the
destination. The sensation was strange, especially when I considered
the possibilities. What if a bracelet like this put something else in my
head? Something I didn’t like or didn’t want. The worst and most
terrifying part of this artificially acquired knowledge was the feeling
that it’d come by naturally. If I didn’t know it before putting the
bracelet, I’d be convinced of always knowing how to get there.
When I stepped into the main corridor a bunch of people stood
nearby chatting vividly. My appearance caused them to freeze, then
they stirred and started crossing the corridor toward me. I made
eyes like boiled eggs, scared of what they were going to do to me.
“Hello! Aren’t you perchance Morrigan?”
“Umm, yes, I am her, I mean I am me. Why?” I probed carefully.
“Hey.” She extended her lithe, milk-white hand to me. “I am Carmen.
I am the chairman of Morrigan Fan Club.”
“You are what?” They are making fun of me or I am having
hallucinations.
I looked at the bracelet with dismay. Could it be its doing?
Carmen followed my gaze and gave me a confused, but friendly
look.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“I… have a fun club? Why?”
There was a confused gleam in Carmen’s eye, which morphed into
excitement.
“We’ve even managed to secure the fan club a headquarter.”
I glanced at the others, searching for signs of deception. They
couldn’t be serious.
“What exactly is a fun club?”
“Girls… we have a job to do!”

I was hijacked by a group of overenthusiastic girls with a strange

idea of me as their idol. They didn’t listen to me when I told them I
needed to see Geneve. A few corridors later, we stopped before a
small door with flaking white paint. How was this even possible?
Everything in the academy was pristine…
“It’s a curse.”
“What?”
“The door has been cursed,” someone else added.
I had no comment to add and I had no reason to be here. If they
were genuine, which I doubted, then I shouldn’t be even here. It
made no sense to be a part of my fan club. I didn’t know if Carmen
noticed my feelings about it but she didn’t waste time. She produced
an old rusty key, inserted it in the lock, and turned. The mechanism
inside clicked and the door swung open on its own.
“No shit. It looks like it's haunted,” I muttered. A few others agreed
with me.
“It’s just the door,” Carmen said enthusiastically.
A quick peek inside told a different story. The whole room inside had
been scrubbed clean. No furniture, bare mismatched planks on the
floor, and walls that needed several layers of paint.
“There aren’t any spider’s webs.” Someone noticed.
No spiders, holy shit…
“That’s good or bad?” I asked.
Judging by their reactions, their feelings were mixed. Even their
leader—Carmen—hesitated for a moment before she came up with
an answer.
“This place hasn’t been used in years and you would expect it to be
invaded by insects—cockroaches and spiders usually—but here’s no
sign of either.”
“So… this is…”
“I guess the academy has a spell that keeps nasty things at bay,
which I think is a good thing. Dealing with spiders isn’t dangerous
unless they’re magical and venomous or worse.”
“Worse?”
Carmen turned to me with a confused expression. For a pale,
delicate-looking person she was projecting authority on a strangely
high level. I didn’t feel like challenging her. Others seemed to share
my view. They were quiet and timid like mice.
“Isn’t the Ash Lands full of dangerous creatures?”
“Yes,” I replied. “But there aren’t many of them. For druids, the
biggest threat is a shifter.” And the lying Queen of the Shining Ones.
Murmurs rippled throughout the group until Carmen hushed them.
“I am sorry, Morrigan the Forsaken, but we aren’t accustomed to the
stories about the shifters. Those few here are domesticated and
harmless to us. Except for the Queen’s Mercy tournament, we
haven’t seen a real shifter so it always brings out curiosity and
emotions. I hope you don’t mind answering a few questions about
them?”
“I…”
“Good,” Carmen said before I could finish off.
“Girls and a boy,” she turned to the group. A boy? I haven’t noticed
that there is a boy… a guy in the group. He kinda looks like a girl
though. “We’re going to make this grubby room shiny and gorgeous.
Get all the cleaning agents, sheets, and clean water you can.”
“Why can’t we use magic to fix it up?” someone asked and the same
question popped up in my mind.
“Go ahead and do it,” Carmen replied.
A smirk on her face and posture—hands on the hips and feet apart—
told me that she’d known exactly what was going on and I didn’t like
her overconfidence. I needed Geneve to support me here. The
female Shining Ones were too much for me to handle alone. Two
girls came forth and cast spells or at least they hoped to do so
because nothing happened. They glared at their hands with terrified
eyes.
“What’s happening?”
“The room has magical abilities blocked,” Carmen explained. It
opened a dam of questions.
This was one of the oldest rooms in the academy but its non-magical
properties didn’t lay in its age but something much more mundane.
It was used for combat training. It made sense to have a room
without access to magical abilities. It gave fighters equal chances.
“Why has it been abandoned?” I asked sensing missing pieces in her
explanation.
“No idea.” Carmen shrugged and turned to the rest of the fan club.
“We need to make this place spotless.”
Everyone, except me, nodded obediently. Having seen enough, I
started tiptoeing away. They didn’t have a need for me. I reached
the door when someone from the group pointed at me and said,
“Morrigan the Forsaken, please wait.”
Carmen whirled.
“Morrigan…”
“Just Morrigan,” I said with the emphasis I didn’t expect to add but it
slipped through.
“Duh…” Carmen made a noise, wrinkling her nose. “Morrigan the
Forsaken sounds so cool. Besides, we’ve made posters and fliers.”
“You did what?”
I was losing my temper. They were going too far with this idiocy.
Carmen opened her mouth to reply, perhaps another nonsense,
when someone tapped my shoulder. I turned my head and found
Geneve’s amused face. She looked brighter than earlier. Something
happened after she’d left my room.
“You look different.”
“Yes,” she replied with an enigmatic—and infuriating smirk.
“What?”
“I visited the academy’s SPA.”
“What’s SPA?”
“I’ll take you there tomorrow. It’s closed now. What’s going on
here?”
Geneve walked past me and asked the same question a bit louder.
“We’re Morrigan the Forsaken’s fan club.”
Geneve googled her eyes then pretended to clean her ears. After
that, she asked them to repeat it.
Carmen did so, which brought Geneve back to me. She whispered,
“what the fuck they’re talking about?”
“Don’t ask me.”
“They’re your fan club.”
I scowled. I didn’t ask for this and I certainly didn’t need it. I was
quite sure the fan club would cause me trouble.
“What’s the matter with you girls?”
A guy lifted a hand in the background but Geneve gave him a cold
shoulder.
“Morrigan the—”
I grunted, interrupting her.
“…is the first one in the history to survive the Queen’s Mercy
tournament as a non-winner. We’re excited to be her friends.”
Friends?
“Friends?” Geneve echoed my question.
How did they consider me their friend if I didn’t even know their
names with the sole exception of Carmen? Geneve burst out
laughing. I stood with my shoulders slumped, glaring. What was I
supposed to do? Start laughing with her or pretend that nothing
happened?
“If you’ve come here to laugh at us, I advise you to leave. We aren’t
here to make fun of Morrigan the… of Morrigan. She’s our idol.”
I sharply inhaled expecting Geneve to get angry. She didn’t. All she
did was to wipe out the tears and calm down.
“I am with you, ladies,” Geneve said, ignoring the risen hand of a
lone guy. “If not for Morrigan, I wouldn’t reach the finish. She saved
me.”
“Stop it.”

We ended up scrubbing the walls. The flaky paint was stubborn,

driving everyone mad. I saw how it itched them to use magic which
didn’t work inside the room. Geneve was so shocked that she went
outside afraid of losing her powers.
“This can’t be right,” she said. Anything up to seven feet high was
scrubbed clean. But the room was twice that height and we lacked a
ladder to reach beyond the seven feet mark. “Two spells would fix it.
Can’t you find a better room?”
Carmen was the only one to look unaffected by the late hour and
she had enough brain cells left to answer the question.
“Headmistress almost kicked me out when I asked her for a room. I
think we should be happy to get this one.”
I didn’t feel happy the next morning. My eyes were heavy, my head
sore. I had no idea what time I’d returned to my room but the
corridors were desolated and everything before my eyes seemed to
swim.
“Get out of the bed,” Geneve said.
“Mercy,” I whined. A spell later, my duvet flew off the bed and folded
itself at the bedside.
“No mercy, you forgot?”
“I forgot what?”
“Mercy’s a lie.”
I rolled my freshly opened eyes, she was so dramatic. I pulled
myself up and gave her my best scowl. She didn’t care.
“We have an hour.”
“For what?”
“The Headmistress’ speech. I’ve heard she isn’t fond of long
speeches but god bless if you missed one.”
I glanced at the door and Geneve picked the meaning on the fly.
“No one was there when I came.”
I sighed relieved.
“Carmen gives me creeps.”
“Don’t be hard on her. She’s your second biggest fan.”
“What—how do you even know this? And who’s the first?”
“Do you have to even ask?” She pointed at herself.
I shook my head, knowing that this ship had sailed away. I’d not
persuade Carmen to give up on the fan club or Geneve to join my
side in the argument.
We got out of my room with ten minutes to spare. Geneve’s magic
took care of my disastrous look. If someone in the Ash Lands told
me that a magical make-up was a thing I’d laugh that someone off
at the mere notion of this strange idea. Seeing myself in the mirror,
fresh and… pretty, stirred my dormant desires. I liked looking pretty.
“I’m starving,” I whispered because too many eyes were following
us. Most of them were locked on Geneve as she was the winner of
the tournament, but enough pairs of eyes stayed on me to make me
uncomfortable. I didn’t know how many people had heard about me
outside of my fan club but judging by the stares there had been
more than I wanted to.
“After the speech.”
The massive cathedral-like chamber was easily the largest room I’d
ever been to. It dwarfed anything I’d seen in the palace. The ceiling
was so high, it disappeared in the shadows. Thick columns on each
side could accommodate several houses placed next to each other.
We waded through the mass of students. I didn’t imagine there
would be so many of them.
“Every Shining One goes to the academy unless you leave the White
City before the entry age.”
I believed her. There were hundreds of people in the chamber,
mulling around the pillars like ants around trees. What hit me was
their age. Not all of them looked young. I mentioned it to Geneve
and she replied amused.
“We’re in the oldest building in the White City if not the world and
you’re interested in the age of students rather lineage of this place.”
“Is that wrong?” I asked confused.
“Nope, I guess.”
“So?”
“Some students stay longer to master their craft. That’s all to it.”
Yeah, I agreed. Their age wasn’t anything worth my attention, so I
turned it back to the interior. I got a sense of vertigo from looking up
where the columns disappeared in the shadows. How was this
possible? Magic, of course. And like with the age of the students,
there was nothing else to it. I couldn’t wield magic, so why bother?
I’m only interested in druid magic, I reminded myself.
We came to a stop forty feet from the large, half-circle podium. In
the middle stood a rostrum and behind the rostrum, several layers of
benches climbed up. They were empty.
I recognized the Headmistress and her severe expression as if being
perpetually dissatisfied and displeased. She walked stiffly to the
rostrum. Her eyes were focused on the sheet placed on it. I couldn’t
say if she waited for the conversations to die out but an eerie silence
began spreading throughout the chamber. I elbowed Geneve.
“What’s going on?”
“I guess, they know something we don’t,” Geneve whispered back.
Eventually, the entire chamber was completely silent. Only then, the
Headmistress looked up from the paper in front of her. A pair of
glasses appeared on her nose, circular with thin rims. Why does she
need glasses to read? She has magic… I’d have asked Geneve but
the chamber was so quiet I had a feeling that even a whisper would
be heard. A big NO-NO. The last thing I wished for was to draw the
attention of the entire chamber to me.
“Welcome,” she said in a warm but hard tone. “To the White Spire
Academy. Like every year I come here to stand before you and say a
couple of words. Older classes know that I like to avoid long
speeches, so I cut to the chase. This year happens to be a bit
different—for better or for worse. For the first time, our academy will
have two princes. Prince Valiant Regentstar—widely known as the
Radiant One and Prince Jaye Regentstar.”
Isolated clapping sounded here and there but quickly died out under
the Headmistress’ disapproving glare.
“In the face of those unusual circumstances, I feel a strong urge to
remind everyone that the academy is politically neutral ground. We
do not stand above the law but we have our autonomy so we can
seek knowledge and perfect our skills without royal breath on our
necks. I am strongly advising those who came here with a political
agenda to leave before it is too late and you are removed. Being
forced out will bring shame to you and your families.”
She’s scary. The way she’s talking shows that she isn’t afraid of the
Queen or her husband. I didn’t know the Headmistress beyond the
short encounter in the underground parking lot but now her attitude
started to appeal to me. If I only could get her to know me better…
“This is not all, however. This year we have witnessed something
short of a miracle. Two people have gotten through the Queen’s
tournament.” Omitting a ‘mercy’ part wasn’t lost on me. “What’s
more, one of them is a Shining One. In recent years, only the
Forsaken Ones have managed to get through and have joined the
academy. Today, I’d like to extend my welcome to Geneve and
Morrigan. They survived hell and deserve recognition.”
This time she didn’t scowl as the ovation erupted. It felt awkward to
receive more cheers than the two princes of the realm. As the
ovation died out, the Headmistress gave us a hard glare. This
woman gave me creeps.
“That said, I feel like I need to explain something here. The White
Spire Academy isn't just another school to finish up and move on.
You will either give your best here and find your true self or drop out
without another chance. If you disregard the academy, it will do the
same to you. Thank you for your time and attention.”
She nodded and left the stage.
“Very encouraging,” I said.
“A warning,” Geneve said.
“A warning? What? What kind of warning?”
“Beats me.”
 Chapter 6

We gladly escaped the masses of the gathering hall. We were lucky

to not be paraded on the stage by the Headmistress. It hadn’t
occurred to me before that it was a possibility. Having a fan club was
too much already, I didn’t need more attention.
“I don’t think we’ll be spared in this department,” Geneve said with a
scowl. “It looks like the tournament is quite a big deal in the
academy.”
“The Headmistress sounded like she dislikes the Queen.”
“Certainly, but there are too many unknown factors.”
“What do you mean?”
Geneve looked around, the corridors were full of students but they
didn’t pay attention to us.
“Not here.”
She sounded like when we’d been to the amusement park. What
wasn’t she telling me? I didn’t like it. Her behaviour made no sense,
as she acted out of character. What happened to her perpetual
hunger? I’ll have to force the answers out of her.
With these ominous thoughts, we reached the cafeteria. It was too
small to accommodate all the students. There were roughly twenty
tables here.
“It’s all magically operated like our rooms,” Geneve explained as we
approached a machine with pictures of various dishes. “Just press
the rune above the food you wish to eat.”
“How do you know it?”
“It’s dead simple, Morrigan the…”
I stabbed her before the last word got out of her mouth.
“Don’t you dare to call me that!”
She smiled.
“Okay, okay! So, the food dispensers are very common in the White
City. Druids aren’t cheap to hire and these machines are mass-
produced so many of the middle-class citizens prefer to buy one of
them. Even some restaurants have them.”
“It’s so strange… everyone in the Ash Lands balances on the edge as
not every crop yields enough food, while here all I have to do is to
press a rune or two and I get a ready-to-eat meal. It’s more than
strange…”
“It’s unfair,” Geneve said.
“Yeah… and what about cooking? Don’t people here do that?”
“Some do, but mostly the poor ones. It’s all about time.”
“That’s fucked up.”
Geneve shrugged.
We ordered noodles with vegetarian meatballs because the real
meat was too expensive to be served from the food dispensers. Yes.
The food didn’t just appear out of thin air but needed to be placed
inside the machine first as the raw ingredients. I swallowed the guilt
and picked the plate with steaming noodles. The meal smelled crazy
good and I couldn’t wait to shove it all into my mouth.
“According to the academic guide, there are seven cafeterias in the
academy and two full-fledged restaurants. One of them used to be
only for VIPs but it seems the Headmistress didn’t like the idea of
segregating people based on wealth.”
“Did the guide tell you that?”
She placed her plate on the table in the corner. I followed her.
“No. It’d sound like challenging the royalty and as she mentioned in
her speech, she isn’t above the law. There’s a limit of how far she
can push before the patience of the Queen and the White Flame run
out.”
More students entered the cafeteria and approached the food
dispensers. Geneve lowered her voice, even though she began
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
Burmese merchants made their way to India, while Gautama was
alive, and becoming converts of his teachings, or system of belief,
they were about to return to Burma, when Gautama gave them some
relics of his person, saying that while they kept these relics they
would observe his system of doctrine. He then tore off a small piece
of his priestly robe, gave them his simple begging bowl, and pulled
eight hairs out of his head, and gave them these also as keepsakes
and reminders of his teaching. These gifts they brought back to
Burma, and over them erected a small pagoda, which formed the
original portion of the present great structure that has become so far
famed in the Buddhist world. The original structure must have been
as insignificant as many that are seen elsewhere. But as time went
on, and the invention, for it could have been nothing else as in the
case of the eyetooth at Candy, was accepted, the pagoda became
more and more famous, and its size was increased until its present
dimensions were reached. It is now 1,350 feet round its base, and
rises to the towering height of 328 feet. Its height is exceeded only
by the pagoda at Pegu, but its general dimensions are far greater
than the latter, and its fame has no rival. Reliable accounts of the
time of building the original pagoda are wanting. But it is pretty
certain that its present dimensions were reached some five hundred
years ago. I have been unable to learn when it was first covered with
gold leaf.
 Shrine, Sway Dagon Pagoda

The structure of this pagoda has many other important features.

Round its base are found many forms of elephants, and small
pagodas that fairly line the lower circle. There are four shrines at the
cardinal points of the compass. It will have been noted that the
pagoda, unlike all other designs of sacred buildings given to worship,
has no interior chamber. Excepting the small cavity given to the relic,
there is solid masonry throughout the vast structure. But the most
striking display of the pagoda is its covering of gold leaf. From base
to top every inch is covered with this golden coat. The devout
Buddhists are always renewing this gilding. No provision is made to
prevent the rains that beat upon the pagoda for six months of each
year from washing away this golden covering. Its rusty appearance
on any part simply calls for more offerings for more regilding, by
which the devout Buddhist expects to gain much merit. I have been
unable to learn the cost of gilding the exterior, though it must be very
great. The pagoda is regilded about twice in ten years. It is difficult to
determine the cost, as the gilding is put on in patches. The renewal
has never been done systematically, but by piece-meal. Besides this,
the umbrella that crowns the pagoda and its pendent rings are
studded with precious stones and jewelry to the value of two
hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The four shrines are ornamented
with hand-carving wrought out with great pains and skill. There are
two very large chests near the entrance to the pagoda area, into
which all devout Buddhists visiting at this temple drop their offerings.
These gifts are taken care of by the trustees of the pagoda, and
expended on its maintenance. Round about the temple is an open
court, which would accommodate many thousands of visitors, and
ofttimes it is crowded to its fullest capacity. On the outside of this
court, and inside the walls that make up the four sides of the square
known as pagoda hill, there is a grove of palms and peepul-trees.
The latter is the sacred tree of Buddhism, and it is usually found
wherever pagodas have been built. Underneath these trees, and
entirely surrounding the pagoda inclosure, there are many large
pavilions, most of them open to all comers, where images of
Gautama are numbered by the hundreds. A few images of Gautama
are in closed structures behind glass and iron bars. Other symbols of
the Buddha or his teaching are there also; but images of Gautama
are by far the most numerous. Gautama is represented as reclining
on his right side, with his head supported by his hand; as sitting,
which is the accepted position; and standing. These are three
chosen attitudes. These three postures are all that are commonly
used. The images are made of brass, of marble, and of alabaster.
Some of them are of the normal size of a man, and some of them
are many times larger, but all bear the impassive features of a man
absorbed in meditation. These images always bear distinctly
Burmanized features.
There are also great bells about the Sway Dagon Pagoda. The
larger bells are supported on great wooden beams, and are rung by
all the worshipers, and even by the idle passer-by. But the strange
thing about all this area of the pagoda is that it is open to all peoples,
and no objects except the inclosed images are protected in any way.
This is not true of either Mohammedan mosques or Hindu temples.
All Buddhists take off their shoes or sandals before going up the
steps. And if any Asiatic should attempt to go up the stairs with
shoes on, he would be ordered to make bare his feet. Europeans are
not so restricted. But this appears to be the only special requirement
for admission to the pagoda area. So it comes to pass that the
devout Buddhist strikes the great bells with the wooden beam, or
horns of an elk that are kept for that purpose, and the next passer-by
may be an idle globe-trotter, who strikes the bell to only test the
melody of its sound.
Worship at a pagoda is a study. The idea of worship in Buddhism
differs so widely from that of any other religion, that it makes the
student of comparative religions pause with astonishment. Buddhism
is very much a religion of negations at best. There is little that is
positive in it. There is no God according to pure Buddhism. It does
not teach an unending personal immortality. The character of
existence beyond death is believed to be through various
transmigrations of beasts, demons, and elevated spirits to final
extinction of personal existence in Nirvana. Continued existence is
considered a calamity. To extinguish personality in Nirvana is the
supreme goal. In that loss of personal identity man passes from
under the necessity of being reborn. In all the struggle in which man
is engaged he has no aid from without himself. His own meritorious
acts must bring him through all lower existences, and finally drop him
into the oblivion of neikban. Before men can reach this goal, they
must have passed through myriads of existences, many of these
lives being spent in hells filled with all tortures. The hells of
Buddhism are filled with terrors measured only by the wildest
imagination, lasting through millions of years. Buddhism is a system
in which there is no God to hear a prayer or speak a consoling word.
Then what is worship under such a religion, if indeed it be a religion?
The people and the yellow-robed priests fill the spaces before these
several shrines, and there offer flowers and food to the images of
Gautama. Or they sit upon their heels about the open court that
surrounds the pagoda, and offer their flowers toward the pagoda,
lifting them toward the top of the gilded dome, while they laud the
great teacher of Buddhism. In none of these acts is there any real
prayer. There is no confessing of sin or need, nor hope even that
Gautama can hear, as he is supposed to have ascended to Nirvana
and to have attained to annihilation of conscious self. The whole of
their worship seems to be made up of laudations of the name and
character of Gautama, and his law, and the Buddhist priesthood. All
worship consists in praise of an extinct personality on the part of a
man whose highest hope is to attain unto like personal extinction!
But in all the dreary and weary struggle there is no eye to pity and no
hand to help to attain this goal of spiritual suicide.
 Front of a Gautama Temple

One of the incongruities about this great pagoda I found in the

fact that the watchmen are Hindus. Perhaps no temple of non-
Christians, save that of Buddhists, is cared for by men of other faiths.
Christian Churches in Southern Asia do often employ Hindus or
Mohammedans to care for them and act as collectors of their funds.
But none but Mohammedans go into a Mohammedan mosque, and
only Hindus enter a Hindu temple. There sits a Mohammedan also
inside the pagoda area selling coffee and bread to all who wish to
buy. Bishop Thoburn once remarked that perhaps only in Burma,
and that at a Buddhist place of worship, could such an incongruous
sight be witnessed.
Another feature of the pagoda area is that at its four sides, east,
west, north, and south, it is bounded by brick walls, rising four or five
feet above the pagoda area, and of several feet in thickness. The
Burmese fortified the pagoda, and the English have done likewise. At
the base is another higher wall, and inside of this a moat. The
English soldiery guard the pagoda hill, and the ordnance department
of the British garrison stationed at Rangoon is inside the outer wall
on the west of the pagoda. The guard is not seen about the court. In
the northeast corner of the pagoda area are several graves of British
officers and soldiers who fell in storming that fortress in 1852. From
the southeast corner of the inclosure you see the slope up which that
band of soldiers charged, and half down the hillside are a number of
graves which are unnamed, and around them a wall is built. Here the
common soldiers fell in that charge. They died for “Greater England.”
From the pagoda wall you can get one of the finest views in
Lower Burma. To the south and southeast lies the greater part of the
city of Rangoon. At the lower extremity of the city the Pegu and
Rangoon Rivers unite their ample breadth of waters. The great rice
mills line the river and its larger tributaries, and lift their tall chimneys
above every other building of the city. To the left the beautiful Royal
Lakes reflect the tropical sunlight in dazzling brightness, while to the
northward the sweep of vision includes many stately houses of the
residents of Kokine, the fashionable suburb of the city.
 CHAPTER IX
Buddhism; How Maintained

T HE hoary system of Buddhism must have some elements of

vitality to keep it in existence through the twenty-six centuries of
its history. That it has long since passed the stage of its greatest
power is quite easily believed. That such a system could remain the
religion of progressive races under the light of the present and the
future, as indicated by the present, few will maintain. That the
number of its present adherents has been greatly exaggerated, there
is no doubt. Some of the peoples which have been classed as
Buddhistic in religion are clearly not distinctively of that faith.
Sir Monier Williams, in his great work on Buddhism, says that of
real Buddhists, who are not more identified with some other religion
than with it, number not over one hundred millions of adherents,
instead of five hundred millions, as some have claimed. He declares
that Christianity, and not Buddhism, is the strongest religion
numerically in the world.
But a religion with even one hundred millions of reasonably
faithful adherents of its doctrines and practices demands our
respectful study. It is not possible within the limits here defined for
the writer to discuss the many-sidedness of Buddhism, for all the
elements of a faith must have consideration in an attempt to set it
forth comprehensively. It is the writer’s intention merely to outline
some features of Buddhism most apparent to a missionary whose
work lies in a Buddhist country. Buddhism is said to be in its purest
form in Burma and Ceylon.
A few general statements may be made. Buddhism never
claimed to be divine in its origin. It was originally entirely atheistic. It
is hardly entitled to be called a religion. It is the most pessimistic
philosophy ever taught among men, or even conceived as yet, by
any teacher. It inveighs against all natural desires or emotions
however exalted, and disallows the holiest relationship. Society itself
could not exist if the fundamental teachings of Buddhism were
observed. All innocent joys are prohibited among those who would
attain to Nirvana. It makes self-destruction the highest aim of man.
To cease to be born, and to extinguish personal consciousness, is
set before its followers as the final goal to be sought. How can such
a system, so opposed to all that men love, find millions of
adherents?
There certainly is a fascination about the supreme renunciation
in the system. Gautama certainly renounced much; and doubtless
many of his followers have made such a sacrifice of desires as he. It
is not here maintained that this renunciation is wholly unselfish, but
that it lies at the foundation of Buddhism; and however unhealthful a
sentiment it is, it has always appealed to many minds. Those who
will not make such renunciations themselves revere those who do,
and help sustain a system that teaches such tenets.
Another source of the power of Buddhism is found in the system
of doctrine taught. It is all the stronger in that, as a system, it is
connected with a great teacher. It is true that Buddhism has more in
it which Gautama did not teach, than of that which he did teach. But
it is very easy for the Buddhist to connect any teaching of his religion
directly with his idea of Gautama. When a religion with a system of
doctrine meets with the nebulous beliefs and incoherent practices of
demonology, or like beliefs, it must steadily gain adherents.
Buddhism has a literature of much importance. To have sacred
books, which can be appealed to in support of the voice of the living
preacher, or teacher, is a great source of power. We see in Burma
that the more backward races are becoming Burmanized and
converted to the Buddhist religion. When they have become
Buddhists, as in the case of Karens, it is the testimony of all
missionaries that they are much more difficult to convert to
Christianity. This Buddhist “law” is one of the three objects of
reverence, or worship, enjoined by Gautama.
 Gautama exalted the brotherhood of monks. They have become
one of the three objects of veneration. Dressed in their yellow robes
and admitted to the monastic order, they are thereby exalted in the
minds of Buddhists far above the ordinary man. So much so, that in
all addresses to them the highest terms of honor are used. On some
occasions they are actually worshiped. When a monk, or poungyi,
leaves the assembly of monks, which is frequently the case, he at
once drops to the level of the ordinary man. But while he is a
member of the order, he is regarded as a superior, worthy of all
reverence even by his own family. These monks, with their yellow
robes and beads and boy attendants, are everywhere, except at
weddings and festivals, though often gathering in crowds a little
apart from the latter. The daily going forth with the begging bowl to
receive the food given by the devout, or even respectable laity, is an
object-lesson in Buddhism. The distinctive buildings called choungs,
in which the monks always live, are found in every village; and whole
blocks of these buildings in all towns and cities proclaim the teachers
of Buddhism. These houses of the monks are invariably the best
buildings in the village. This conspicuous advertisement of the
monastic teachers does much to keep the system which they
represent ever before the people in a conspicuous way.
 Buddhist Monk and Attendant

But the monks do two distinctive services for their faith of a more
positive kind. They teach practically every boy in Burma. They teach
the boys to read, and they indoctrinate them. No boy is considered to
have a human spirit at all. He must remain an animal until he has
spent at least one day in the monastery. But aside from this
approach to the sacred order of monks, all Burmese boys attend
school for some length of time, and usually learn to read their
language passably well. They certainly learn the Buddhist doctrines.
So it comes to pass that most Burmese know what they believe,
however inconsistent with this belief they live. They also learn the
elements of arithmetic, as well as the grotesque teachings of
Buddhism in geography of these teachers. In estimating the strength
of Buddhism, and its ability to maintain itself, the monastic school,
uniting a religious order with the instruction of all the male childhood
and youth, stands easily first of all its sources of power.
There are schools conducted by laymen in almost every large
village. These schools do not generally have a continuous existence,
but so long as a teacher can get scholars he keeps his school going.
In these lay schools also some Buddhistic instruction is imparted. So
that the Buddhist youth is the exception who has not been
indoctrinated with Buddhist teaching. Without knowing why he is a
Buddhist, nevertheless he proclaims himself as a Buddhist, and will
give a fair statement of his belief. The missionary must bring his
message to a mind pre-empted by Buddhist doctrine taught by the
yellow-robed monk.
From this statement of the Buddhist school system of the
Burmese, and to its power as a religious agency, the reader, as does
the missionary, will see the imperative need of Christian schools to
take the place of the Buddhist schools. Their efficiency as a
missionary agency can not be over-estimated. Each of the large
missions now operating in Burma has adopted this strategic agency
with very encouraging results. Many Buddhists do not hesitate to
send their boys to a mission school if it is equipped to do superior
work. Here, then, is Christianity’s greatest opportunity among the
young. That mission will show greatest wisdom which gives Christian
schools of the higher grades special attention.
There are doctrines of Buddhism, aside from the moral precepts
or regulations for the conduct or belief of its adherents, which may
be, all unconsciously to the Buddhist, of great attraction. Buddhism,
as has been noted, like most other Eastern philosophies, teaches
that men pass through many births through countless ages, and
transmigration through men, animals, and spirits. This transmigration
may be endless, and will be, if the individual does not attain to
Nirvana. Now, while a man’s place in the scale of being is
determined by the conduct of the life that now is, there is nothing
final in this life as affecting destiny. If he sinks in the scale of being,
he can rise in the same by his conduct in another existence. The
time taken to make his recovery from the consequences of his
demerits in this life may be ages; still he can retain all that he has
lost by a bad life here. It therefore comports with men’s wish that
they can commit acts not wholly agreeable to the known or believed
rules of conduct, and yet they believe they can escape after a long
time the consequences of such trifling with their moral code. It is a
pleasant belief of human nature, wishing to indulge in that which is
forbidden, to sacrifice some future blessedness for a present
gratification, if at the same time the man can believe that the loss
may at some future time be recovered. To a temporizing conscience
this is a very comforting doctrine.
Buddhism teaches that character and states of existence are
determined finally by a man’s unaided efforts. Human nature in all
lands takes kindly to such teaching. If men could purchase salvation
at a price in payment or sacrifice of even life itself, there would be
many applicants for eternal life, who will not receive it as a gift.
Buddhism is very complimentary to self-conceit when it teaches that
we need no God to enlighten us, no Savior to save us, but that we
can recover ourselves. That only our own acts can affect our scale of
being and ultimately determine our destiny, in every varying merit or
demerit, is believed. Building and gilding a pagoda lays up a great
store of merit, and to engage in meditation is the most meritorious
work of all. Their whole system of the merit of works breeds
inordinate conceit, and hence is a very pleasant doctrine to men. To
save themselves, and not to be saved by the vicarious sacrifice of
another, is pleasing to pride. I think all agree that this belief in self-
acquired merit is one of the strongest bulwarks of Buddhism.
 The student of religion who looks for its effect on the people, is at
first perplexed at a singular paradox among the Burmese Buddhists.
He finds a religion that frowns upon the innocent joys of life, and
much more upon all spectacular demonstrations. It especially
discourages theatricals and feasting. The natural effect of such a
religion would be to depress the spirit and overshadow the life. It
would pluck up all gayety from a people. But we find the Burmese
Buddhists the gayest and most light-hearted race of the Orient. Their
religion to the contrary, they have more music, dancing, and
theatricals than any other people. And in all this they regard
themselves as the most consistent Buddhists. They even connect a
festival with almost every special religious duty. It therefore comes to
pass that they harmonize festal joys with the utter prohibition of them
by their religion, and count the practice and the “law” that interdicts it
equally “good.” By observing this fact, it is clear that the drastic
prohibitions of Buddhism have no place at all in life practice. If,
therefore, this contradiction of Buddhism does not add to its strength,
it at least allows the adherent to accept and reject such portions of
the Buddhist law as may be convenient, and as suits his fun-loving
and easy-going disposition. In this way the Burman comforts himself
with the belief that he is a devout Buddhist, and at the same time
escapes all the depressing effects on his nature that would result if
he actually undertook to keep either the letter or spirit of the Buddhist
law. So it appears this paradox is explained.
 Funeral Pyre of a Burmese Priest

Examples of their ability to turn any circumstance into a festival

is seen at their funerals. When an ordinary man dies the friends
gather and bring food, and keep up a several days’ feasting. On the
day of the funeral long lines of oxcarts are drawn up, each with some
offering for the poungyis, or priests. These gifts to the priests seem
to be about the only religious part of the ceremonies. Then with
bands playing, and often dancers and buffoons performing at the
head of the procession, they move away to the burial ground. On
several occasions I saw half-drunken men carrying the coffin on a
tall, loosely-constructed framework, dancing with all their might
under their burden. Sometimes it seemed the coffin would fall to the
ground.
I have seen the burial of a Buddhist nun where the procession
contained sixty-one stands of presents, one for each year of the
nun’s life, carried in front of the corpse. These presents were
intended for the priests, and they enabled the donors to gain merit,
make a show, and enjoy a festival all in one. The presents were of
plates, towels, and carpets, amounting to about ten dollars a stand,
or over six hundred dollars in value in all. The poungyis often preach
against the festivals, but I have never heard that they ever refused to
receive the presents, an indispensable feature of the display.
There are great festivals gotten up at the burning of a priest who
has been much venerated. He may have enjoyed a reputation for
great learning, and perhaps lived to a good old age. The body is
kept, if the priest should die in the rainy season, until the dry weather
brings a time suitable for camping in the fields. Arrangements having
been completed, a place, usually a cleared rice field, is selected, and
booths are constructed to accommodate the gathering people.
Material is procured, and a very large skeleton framework of dry
poles is constructed in imitation of the seven-fold roof of a
monastery. This framework is covered over with matting and paper,
on which is much ornament, usually of a pictorial character. Great
ropes are drawn high up into the framework, where it is designed the
coffin shall be placed before the burning. A procession is formed to
bring the body in great state, with all kinds of symbolical banners and
imitations of the sacred elephant. The casket is placed on these
great ropes, and skillfully drawn into the tower of the structure. When
the body is once in its place, the younger men hastily take up
burning spears, as fire brands, and hurl them into the combustible
material, and in an instant all is aflame. Soon there is nothing but
ashes. The camp is broken up, and the people return home. They
have had a great festival lasting in preparation over many days, and
have performed a pious work of merit. They have violated much of
Buddhist teaching; but by their spectacular festival they have helped
to perpetuate Buddhism in the community. I witnessed preparation
for one such burning near Rangoon. The firing of the pyre occurred
on Sunday, amidst a great throng of all the nations represented in
Burma. The full account was given in the daily papers, and it is said
that thirty thousand dollars was spent in cremating the one body, that
of a noted monk. Recent word from Mandalay tells of the cremation
of the body of the chief bishop of Buddhism in Burma. It is said
twenty thousand people were present at this festival. Yet the bishop
had always preached that all festivity was wrong, and the whole
Buddhist people declared the “law” was good.
 The same contradictions are apparent in their theological
teaching. One instance will suffice as an illustration. Fish is a
common and much appreciated article of food in Burma, and has
been for centuries. The people have come to regard fish as
necessary to their food as rice. This creates a great demand for fish,
and consequently calls for a multitude of fishermen. But by Buddhist
teaching the fishermen, or the hunter, is doomed to the deepest hell
for taking life. They teach that there are four great hells, one below
another, and the fisherman is doomed to go to the bottom of the
lowest hell, and can not get out till he spends fifty million years in
each of the four hells. And only after that could he hope to be born a
man again on earth. Meantime the well-fed Burman who fattens on
the fish, who made the fisherman necessary, thinks he not only has
no responsibility for the other’s sin, but is making good headway
toward Nirvana! The fisherman, when interviewed, is quite at ease.
Question him of the sin of taking the life of the fish, and he will
confidently tell you: “I do not kill the fish. I only drag it out of the
water, and the hot sun kills it.” Both declare themselves good
Buddhists, and that “the Buddhist law is good.” It leaves liberty
enough for any number of specious pleas to avoid personal
responsibility for violating the Buddhist prohibitions, while the
votaries of Buddhism are still pretending to keep the “law.”
 CHAPTER X
Buddhism and Christianity Contrasted

C OMPARATIVE religion is one of the most fascinating studies. In

Christian lands well-informed people are ever ready to receive
any new light on any of the principal religions of the world. In the
East also there is inquiry after the tenets of differing faiths. It is true
the inquiry in the Orient is confined to a few of the most advanced
minds, and it is also doubtful if the inquiry is often fairly made. The
disposition seems to be to assume, to begin with, that some religion
like Hinduism, or Buddhism, is the religion of most truth, and then to
show that Christianity has some things in common with these faiths.
The deduction is then easily drawn that one can be an eclectic in
religion. I have seen Europeans in the East who, in an off-handed
way, would say: “It is wrong to try to convert the Burmese from their
Buddhism to Christianity. Their religion is better for them than ours
would be.” I have not heard such a remark from any one who
pretended to be a Christian in any devout or spiritual sense. He
would be a Christian only in the sense that he belonged to the
European community, who are always called “Christians” by those of
other faiths.
Buddhism has had much praise for its moral precepts, and its
general practice of total abstinence from all alcoholic drinks. This
prohibition has been widely observed. It is probable that Buddhism
was the first religion to require total abstinence. Then Buddhism
gave woman a freedom that no other religion of the East allows.
Contrasted with Hinduism or Mohammedanism in this respect,
Buddhism must be highly commended. But it is another matter when
men assume that one religion is as good as another, or estimate
Buddhism as a religion of comfort and light, when it has neither.
 It is not the purpose of this book to attempt a comprehensive
statement of comparative religions, much less a discussion of that
idea. But it is my purpose to set before the reader that wherein
Buddhism is contrasted with Christianity, believing that Christianity,
and it alone, satisfies the wants of any human soul. I have desired to
show wherein Buddhism fails in all essential features to measure up
to this need of man for a perfect religion. It is not intended to
disparage any incidental good that Buddhism may possess, but to
show the contrast with Christianity in its fundamental teachings. In
this I am not dependent on my own research, but can accomplish my
purpose best by quoting from Sir Monier Williams. This great scholar
and author published his works on Buddhism as a culmination of
extended studies in the great religions of the world. It is the ripest
fruit of his high scholarship. He published this work just a few years
before he died. From his chapter on “Buddhism Contrasted with
Christianity” I have quoted at length, believing his contrasts are
exhaustive and entirely truthful.
This eminent author doubts if Buddhism is a religion at all. After
postulating that every system assuming to be a religion must declare
the existence of an eternal God, and the immortality of the soul of
man, he further declares that such a system must satisfy four
requisites:
“First. It must reveal the Creator in his nature and attributes to
his creature, man.
“Secondly. It must reveal man to himself. It must impart to him a
knowledge of his own nature and history—what he is; why he was
created; whither he is tending; and whether he is at present in a
state of decadence downwards from a higher condition, or of
development upwards from a lower.
“Thirdly. It must reveal some method by which the finite creature
may communicate with the infinite Creator—some plan by which he
may gain access to him and become united with him, and be saved
by him from the consequences of his own sinful acts.
“Fourthly. Such a system must prove its title to be called a
religion by its regenerating effect on man’s nature; by its influence on
his thoughts, desires, passions, and feelings; by its power in
subduing all his evil tendencies; by its ability to transform his
character and assimilate him to the God it reveals.”
This writer claims what all must admit, that early Buddhism failed
in all these requisites, and was not a religion. It refused to admit a
personal Creator, or man’s dependence on a higher power. “It denied
any external Ego in man. It acknowledged no external revelation. It
had no priesthood—no real clergy; no real prayer; no real worship. It
had no true idea of sin, or of the need of pardon, and it condemned
man to suffer the consequences of his own sinful acts without the
hope of help from any Savior or Redeemer, and indeed from any
being but himself.”
A few years ago a former bishop of Calcutta saw a Buddhist in a
temple, and asked him, “What have you been praying for?” “I have
been praying for nothing.” “To whom have you been praying?” He
answered, “I have been praying to nobody.” “What, praying for
nothing to nobody?” said the astonished bishop. This is a fair sample
of the religious expression of Buddhists.
This eminent writer admits that later Buddhism has developed a
great reverence for Buddha, the law, and the monkhood, which is
some expression of man’s sense of need. But in reality this is a cry
from the hungry heart of man for God, which Buddhism does not
recognize nor foster. Pure Buddhism is atheistic. This author also
considers what claim Gautama has to the title, “The Light of Asia.”
He first points out that “his doctrines spread only over Eastern Asia,
and Confucius, or Zoroaster, or Mohammed, might equally be called
‘The Light of Asia.’” He also maintains that Gautama was not a true
light in any sense; that he claimed little higher than intellectual
enlightenment resulting from intense concentration of all man’s
intellectual powers in introspection. He did not claim to have any
voice regarding the origin of evil, nor concerning a personal God. His
“light,” in this respect, was “sheer darkness.” And so the system he
founded is as devoid of “light” as midnight. “All that he claimed to
have discovered was the origin of suffering and the remedy of
suffering. All the light of knowledge to which he attained came to this:
That suffering arises from indulging desires, especially the desire for