Jawara, the fifteenth king of Tanzang, had ruled the kingdom since he was seven years old. He was a wise man, ruling Tanzang with compassion. Of all the kings before him, the citizens held him in highest regard. Though the humblest of kings, he had ascended to power at the direst time, when Tanzang withered under relentless drought and its citizens, on all sides, battled for survival. He sat alone in a large, open garden, his eyes closed as he sighed with a heavy, worried breath.
From a distance, Yu Yan saw the distress etched on Jawara's face, knowing that something profound must have happened. She approached Jawara with her ten maids trailing respectfully, and she gracefully sat beside him.
Yu Yan's voice softened with concern. "Your Majesty, what troubles you? Why do you wear such a heavy frown?"
Jawara passed the bamboo scroll to Yu Yan. He rose, turning to face the sprawling garden. His head bowed, he murmured, "This is the tenth such scroll." A deep frown creased his brow. "The land withers, my people starve. No matter how much food I distribute, it offers only fleeting relief. I can sleep peacefully in my warm bed, well-fed, but my citizens retire hungry each night, their sleep stolen by the gnawing worry of where their children will find sustenance at sunrise."
Yu Yan placed the scroll on the stone table. She walked to his side, gently placing a hand on his arm. "My King, you are the sovereign of Tanzang, not the monarch of the heavens. Do not burden your heart so."
Jawara clasped his hands behind his back, his frown deepening. "The river widens incessantly. We cannot even draw its waters to irrigate our crops. It flows clear, yet once drawn, the water curdles into blood." He sadly murmured, "I... I do not know what to do."
"You are a great king, and every Tanzanie loves you," Yu Yan said, her voice soft with a reassuring smile. She reached out and gently took Jawara's hand. "My King, why don't we hold a grand ceremony to implore the heavens for rain? Over the years, we have performed countless rituals to the God of Thunder, but none have succeeded. Yet, if we pray to Heaven this time, with true sincerity, surely the heavens will have mercy on us. I am certain that if we implore with sincerity, the Gods and Fairies of Heaven will not abandon us innocent people."
Jawara sighed. "Guards, come here."
A guard rushed over and knelt before Jawara. "Yes, Your Highness."
Jawara commanded, "Send forth my order: All senior officials must be present in parliament tomorrow."
It was late at night when Jawara was jolted awake by a female voice calling his name. He sat abruptly on the edge of his bed, panting in horror, the vestiges of a nightmare clinging to him. In his dream, a black hole had hunted him, hundreds of hateful voices rising from its depths, cursing him and his ancestors. As he bent to retrieve his slippers, his gaze caught on the bare feet of a woman in a long, white silk dress, standing impossibly close. Fearful of assassination, he snapped his head up, his eyes widening at the sight of a beautiful woman in white, her face glowing with an otherworldly radiance.
Jawara recoiled, his voice a horrified whisper. "Are... are you?"
Gaia offered a gentle smile. "I am Gaia."
Jawara scrambled from his bed, dropping to his knees before Gaia, bowing deeply three times. Still kneeling, he asked, "Goddess Gaia, is there anything I can do for you?"
Gaia's voice was soft, yet resonant. "I have witnessed generations of Tanzang kings rule this land, and you are indeed the wisest among them. I cannot stand idly by while your kingdom approaches its end."
Jawara's jaw dropped, his voice choked with dread. "The end? I... I don't understand."
Gaia sighed, her gaze softening as she looked down at the handsome young king kneeling before her. "Have you not noticed how the River of Sorrow grows wider each year? How your land withers ever drier? No matter how many sacrifices you offer to the God of Thunder, his thunder only rumbles in your land once a year."
Jawara replied sadly, "Yes, my people suffer, and I feel utterly powerless."
Gaia's voice grew somber. "Your kingdom is built upon the pain and suffering of others. Had the tenth King of Tanzang not slaughtered so many innocent people and incurred the Emperor of Heaven's wrath, your kingdom would indeed be vibrant. But consumed by his own insatiable greed, he committed those heinous acts, and therefore, doomed every one of you. The dead innocents offer no forgiveness, nor does Heaven. Your kingdom draws ever closer to the black hole created by the Emperor of Heaven. Twenty years from this day, Tanzang will perish."
Jawara's heart plummeted. He looked up at Gaia, desperation in his eyes. "No... Please, advise me. I would not object if I died alone, but I cannot bear for innocent Tanzanies to perish because of my ancestor's mistake."
Gaia sighed. "There is a way."
King Jawara pleaded, "Please, tell me!"
Gaia explained, "There is a dragon's tail, locked away in a remote place, utterly inaccessible to mortals. Its retrieval and return here would be paramount. The dragon's tail's inherent purity will cleanse your blighted land. Once purified, the black hole's dark power would be significantly weakened, allowing the combined might of the Gods and Fairies to finally seal it away."
Jawara asked, his voice laced with worry, "If this land is inaccessible to mortals... then how can I possibly retrieve the dragon's tail?"
Gaia stated, "You will need the power of a mage to aid in its retrieval."
"A mage?" Jawara breathed, still kneeling before Gaia. "Where could I possibly find such a person?"
Gaia looked down at Jawara, a faint smile gracing her lips. "I have given my counsel. Do not lose hope, King Jawara of Tanzang. Act with a pure heart, and nothing will be beyond your reach." With a shimmer, Gaia vanished.
In the parliament hall the next morning, Jawara shared his extraordinary meeting with Gaia with his ministers. Gazing down at their expectant faces, he asked, "Must I repeat my question?"
A minister, hesitant, asked, "My King, where might we find a mage?"
Jawara replied, "That is precisely why I seek your opinions. Anyone with concerns, please speak freely."
U-ri stepped forward, his voice measured. "My King, according to several ancient texts, there once existed a people known as the Kakungga. They were protected by four hundred highly skilled mages, beings of immense power, but..."
Jawara rose abruptly, his voice sharp with urgency. "But what? Where can I find them?"
U-ri hesitated. "I fear offending Your Highness."
Jawara insisted, "Speak freely. You will not be punished."
U-ri's voice dropped. "The Kakungga were driven to extinction by the Tenth King of Tanzang."
Jawara's eyes widened in horror. "How?"
U-ri continued, "It is recorded in the ancient texts that the Tenth King of Tanzang once drowned thousands of them in the Endless River of Sorrow."
Jawara reeled from the revelation. He stumbled, falling back into his chair, his face ashen. He closed his eyes, his voice a slow, horrified whisper. "Every single one?"
U-ri elaborated, "Most of them perished. The soldiers pleaded with His Highness, and he spared a remnant, but only on the condition that they abandon sorcery and live as regular Tanzanies. His Highness decreed that anyone practicing sorcery, along with their entire family, would face execution."
Jawara's voice was grim. "I dispatched many volunteer soldiers and hunters to find a way to reach other kingdoms, but none returned. I believe Goddess Gaia desires a mage to join this expedition precisely because a mage might find a way to traverse the Endless River of Sorrow." He looked sadly at his assembled ministers. "The Endless River of Sorrow truly lives up to its name. Michio," he addressed, turning to the monk.
Michio stepped forward. "Yes, My King."
Jawara continued, "Prepare a ceremony by the river where our people were driven to their deaths. I, personally, wish to offer an apology."
Michio bowed deeply. "I will arrange it."
Jawara then instructed, "U-ri, issue an edict to find a mage."
Kazan stepped forward. "Your Majesty, if practicing sorcery guarantees beheading for oneself and one's entire family, who would willingly step forward?"
Jawara nodded grimly. "General Kazan is correct. U-ri, the decree will also explicitly state that no harm is to befall the mage." He then turned to his aged ministers, his voice thick with emotion. "Everyone, I thank you for your selfless dedication to me over the years. If the dragon's tail is not found, our kingdom will be consumed by the black hole in twenty years. I know many of you would willingly die for Tanzang, but you are already old and have served this kingdom your entire lives. Therefore, I will neither force nor designate anyone to undertake this quest. The travel time and return date are unknown. I can only ask for volunteers. Is anyone willing to step forward?"
Every single minister stepped forward, declaring in unison, "We will participate in this expedition voluntarily!"
Kazan's voice, though firm, held a tremor of emotion. "Your Majesty, I married late and have only two sons. Yul is my eldest. As a palace captain, I volunteer Yul for this expedition."
Jawara was visibly moved by Kazan's profound sacrifice. He stepped forward, standing directly before the general. "General..." Jawara's head bowed, a gesture he had never shown before. "On behalf of every citizen, I thank you for your unwavering dedication to this kingdom and its people."
Kazan quickly replied, "Your Majesty, please, do not humble yourself so. If I had not married so late, I would have many more sons. I wish I could offer you two, but my youngest is only three years old."
Jawara placed a reassuring hand on Kazan's shoulder, a gentle smile touching his lips. "General," he said, turning to Yul. "Even though your father has volunteered you, I will still ask you directly: are you willing to go?"
Yul knelt before Jawara, his gaze unwavering. "I would willingly give my life for this kingdom."
Abrafo stepped forward, a stern looks on his face. "Your Majesty, I volunteer to participate."
Michio, his face alight with unexpected fervor, hurried forward. "Your Majesty, please allow me to join this expedition!"
Abrafo eyed Michio with a peculiar mix of surprise and derision. "What does a monk have to do with this journey? You stay here and continue to study your sacred texts." He smiled, a hint of mockery in his expression.
Jawara turned to U-ri. "Someone must serve as our ambassador. U-ri, you will accompany them."
U-ri's jaw dropped in utter shock. "Your Highness, I'm already in my early sixties!"
Jawara replied gently, "You have no immediate family, and you are the wisest choice among them all."
"I will not disappoint Your Highness," U-ri said, a genuine smile gracing his features. He could find no words beyond his immense gratitude to Jawara for choosing him.
Jawara nodded, a grateful smile on his face. "I am deeply glad to have everyone's support. U-ri and Michio, Captain Yul and Lord Abrafo are still young; please lend them your seasoned judgment."
Michio and U-ri bowed in unison. "Yes, My King."
Jawara sighed, a faint line of worry still etched between his brows. "Now, we can only wait for the mage to appear."