In the Trial of Longing, there was no sound, no light, no life.
Just nothing.
An unfathomable darkness, a reflectionless black that held no hope, no desire, no feeling.
The peculiar void was stripped of everything, as though it were missing what it should have possessed, as if the Trial of Longing was not meant to be like this.
An empty shell.
The absence of all.
And yet, despite nothing existing, Oren Xianrath did, deep down in the pitch black depths of the trial ground, he stood frozen in awe and horror.
At the same time, he was also in the academy hall, cross legged, meditating in front of the sacred altar.
That was because his consciousness was in the Trial of Longing.
But at the moment, he was to scared to look around the abyss.
His expression remained frozen.
But he knew the fear he felt was unnatural. It made Oren choose not to open his eyes.
He chose to be blinded, crippled, for reasons he could not explain, because he felt that if he stared into the void... it would stare back at him.
A shiver ran down his spine as he thought.
What is happening?
Then he moved.
He tried to move, at least.
Oren frowned slightly.
Why can't I control my body?
For some reason, within the Trial, Oren could not use his body. He could feel it, but what he felt was his body deep in meditation, seated in the academy hall.
He could not move that body at all, as though he had been severed from his vessel, his consciousness left to roam freely.
It would take time to get used to moving this way.
Only then did Oren remember Elder Tie Ru's words.
Every step would take him further into a place designed for him.
A thought whispered into his mind.
Nirvana.
Oren's thoughts wandered.
Does it exist?
Oren's eyes glistened.
Nirvana, a place as welcoming and holy as the heavens themselves.
Yes. His own nirvana.
But despite thinking that, Oren's chest tightened.
Though nothing had happened, it felt as though he was feeling something which he had never before.
He was indescribably alone.
But he had felt alone in many events of his long and arduous life.
Ironically, he had more bonds now than back then.
But at the moment, he felt wrong, strange and lost.
Perhaps it was the Trial being void of sound.
Maybe it was that he was the one there.
A wistful smile faintly traced his lips.
Will I reach nirvana without anyone else?
Will I be alone in nirvana too?
A somber expression replaced his dim smile.
And how will I reach it if I cannot move? I shouldn't feel sad right now, so why do I?
Oren tried to dismiss the sudden emotions he felt like usual, but no matter how hard he tried to feel something other than the unbearable sadness, he could not.
It was like sadness had been selected at the moment, therefore he could not use any other emotion.
He bore through depression unmoved, and yet he still felt sad.
And the fact that he could not move only made the feelings worse.
Trying to move only caused immense strain to his mind.
Seeing no change in his attempts to move fully, irritation crept in, sharp and unreasonable.
The irritation he felt easily overpowered the sadness, filling Oren with relief and glee.
Then, strangely, Oren felt compelled to open his eyes.
And so he did.
His eyes slowly opened fully to the nothingness around him, unfazed by the absolute darkness.
Then, without understanding how, he fell forward and grounded his feet.
The action was delayed and unfamiliar, but it happened.
He moved, but what moved him was an indomitable feeling of desire.
An ardent longing that was his, and yet he questioned whether it truly belonged to him.
With that single movement, the world reacted, sharp and intentional.
Before he realized it, he was able to move, it started with small movements. Like moving his fingers and arms, then tensing hus muscles.
In the next moment, he pushed off the ground and took his first real step.
In the next motion, his posture stiffened, and he looked around the bleak expanse.
Why was the Trial of Longing so bleak?
Was he truly that dull, for his personally designed trial to be a void?
If longing was filled with such colorful emotions and desire, why was his supposed nirvana nothing but darkness and emptiness?
Was he yet to find it?
Or was this what all candidates experienced?
Oren stepped forward again confused becyase he knew longing was desire, and desire was never empty.
All felt it, the restless emotion.
The indifferent, profane, wicked, and pure, all possessed it, for desire was what fueled existence.
Yet to desire nothing was to pass the Trial.
To have no goal, no ambition, no hope.
But without longing, there was nothing to strive toward, nothing to endure for.
How, then, could Oren persevere? How could he beat the Trial?
Was his trial, to find nirvana?
Oren's face suddenly lit up with unexpected joy.
He glanced down at his feet, and his thoughts fell silent.
His legs looked strange, shorter than usual, yet somehow longer at the same time.
Was the rest of his body the same?
His consciousness shifted with unnease as
Oren's eyebrows furrowed.
Would it affect the speed at which he reached nirvana?
His eyes darkened tormented by the thought of not reaching nirvana.
Would he arrive late, or would he arrive slow?
Moments later, he abruptly shook his head, then paused, unsettled by the question of why nirvana had even entered his thoughts.
And then, his consciousness was flooded by an endless barrage of memories.
The rigid rough texture of Mountain Yie.
The outskirt streets, the great border, the gambling den.
The illustrious C04. Sable. Elder Idris. Sir Sloan. Elder Tie Ru and Elder Cosette. Varos, the drunken gambler. Liran. Hemel.
The grumpy old man who sold him the map.
The newspapers revealing the truth of the intrusion, proof that Oren had not been the only intruder.
Each memory unfolded within the expanse, as though projected by his mind, forming scenes for him to observe.
He saw everything, and more.
With each step forward, new memories surfaced, the world reshaping itself around them.
So much had passed.
And yet, despite thinking of so much, with every step he took, Oren began to forget them.
His principles. Reason. His purpose.
All guided by the promise of nirvana.
And if he continued walking, his nirvana would be close.
That realization unsettled him.
What am I even thinking?
Is this the Trial of Longing? Is nirvana what I desire? Or is it that my desire is making me want nirvana?
No.
Oren shook his head and continued forward.
He needed to reach the end of the Trial of Longing.
If each step truly carried him deeper into a place made for him, then all he had to do was endure.
Even that thought felt heavier than it should have.
He felt strange here.
Or was he simply thinking too much?
It happened often enough.
When one fixated on something, it began to feel wrong, like repeating a word until it lost its meaning and was incorrect.
After several minutes of silence, Oren continued walking, dismissing thoughts of recent events and people.
Walking endlessly, pointlessly, and aimlessly.
Waiting for the world to adapt to him, to project what he was connected to.
That was what Oren assumed it was.
The reason the trial showed him his thoughts and memories in a real, tangible projection.
It was what Oren was connected to. Or what he felt connected to.
But he was not connected to any of them.
So why is it showing me them?
Or am I simply being messed with?
To show him what he longed for, to show him his past.
The longer it took, the more he counted his steps.
By doing this If the memories were to come, he would not be lost in them. He would not be lost in the said illusions and dreams ever.
He would pass them with each step and count them to remember where he was.
One step. Four steps. Eight steps. Twelve steps. Twenty two steps.
And before he realized it, he had counted forty two.
Still, he felt compelled to move forward, searching the void itself for what he wanted.
But what he wanted was not in the trial.
In fact, it was the outcome of the trial that he wanted.
Oren wanted enlightenment.
But with no obstacles in the Trial of Longing, how would he overcome it and obtain enlightenment?
Seventy two steps, he whispered.
Or was it his seventy fifth?
No... it is actually step seventy.
Squinting his eyes in confusion, Oren chose to start from seventy and continued.
The thoughts of how long he would be followed his mind like a bad omen.
How long had he been in meditation?
Would he fail?
Was something even supposed to appear like earlier?
Had he already succeeded?
Oren shook his head again, his resolve growing exponentially.
It would not be so simple.
He counted again.
One hundred steps.
After the one hundred and twenty second step, an abnormal pressure formed beneath his feet as he remained deep in thought.
Why is it so hard to not know what you truly want?
But Oren also dreaded that if he knew what he wanted, he would feel compelled by an unbearable desire to find it, or remain attached to it.
One hundred fifty two steps.
One hundred eighty seven steps.
Two hundred steps.
Despite now walking two hundred twenty four steps, he had seen no change.
Only the pull remained, tugging at his mind like an invisible rope.
Oren's gaze traveled the never ending black of the world as he muttered, two hundred sixty three steps.
Am I doing something wrong?
Every concern made him tremble.
Every thought made him uncertain.
It was as though he felt too much.
Still, he continued counting with an indescribable expression.
Two hundred seventy three steps.
This walking was not tiring physically, but in this place it felt like his mind was doing the moving.
It was exhausting and yet he felt as though he wanted to continue, to persevere.
Oren breathed in through his nose and out his mouth as he counted again.
Two hundred eighty five steps.
Oren's steps hastened.
Before he knew it, he had reached two hundred ninety nine steps.
Two hundred ninety nine.
This step was three hundred.
Oren took another step, then froze, an uncertain expression twisting his lips.
Both concern and confusion filled his golden eyes.
Because who would not be concerned when they were counting like a madman?
Why am i counting steps?
Why was he?
Because each step would take him to nirvana?
Another thought faded into his mind, unfamiliar yet his own.
Counting steps will only make us lose interest in nirvana.
Nirvana does not care about steps.
What if he passed nirvana but missed it because he was too focused counting?
Oren nodded with a confused smirk, agreeing with himself.
But still, he expected a change, and yet nothing had changed.
After realizing nothing had changed after such intense strain, Oren was not filled with despair.
He began to realize the reason.
And in less than a step, he understood everything.
There was no external force guiding him.
Yet if he stopped, an invisible collar around his mind would tighten.
It made no sense.
Where am I being taken?
No one answered for no one was there.
When he remembered he was alone in the complete and utter darkness, did an overwhelming sense of loneliness fill his mind making his throat soar and his body trembled faintly.
He continued shaking, if he were to continue feeling this way he would eventually cry.
And then, fall into despair.
But Oren didn't.
Because there was a sound... a thought.
One that answered him.
It was him, and yet his tone was manic and insidious, yet at the same time, calm and delightful.
What he was searching for was nirvana.
Becuaselonging is benevolent and it promised peace and serenity.
After all, that was the Trial of longing, a trial that would bestow one what they longed.
Oren paused, as though recalling something he did not remember learning.
The thoughts went on.
It also wants me to reach enlightenment, it desires for me to be happy and prosper.
It will help fulfil my own desire.
If i walk long enough, i will reach it, my destiny.
My nirvana.