It is not well known to many, but there are multiple ghost subduing techniques in the Utter Islands. There is the Deviline Invocation of the Yenjan Faith, the Talismanic Subjugation of the Yajists, the Geomancy of the God-Wayers, the Astrology of the Evening Star, Morning Star, Sun, and Moon followers, and much more. One of the most effective ones is the Ghost-Subduing Mandala of Puksasuangga, the Flaming Sword Bodhisattva, who takes upon a fierce countenance to be able to bind a ghost and keep it from fighting back.

From Discourse On Ghosts and Demons written by multiple sources but mostly attributed to the Scholar Monk Atavazaka who became a monk under Yenjan, Law, and Yajist traditions, choosing ultimately to renounce all of them as an act of "Renouncing the Renunciation" before committing to the esoteric path of Revolution Law.

Raxri's brows furrowed. "What do you... mean?"

Sintra Kennin, knowing exactly what she meant, said: "You spoke to her? Why did you not bestow this information to us when we first asked? What trust can we imbue upon you?"

Angko did not look too fazed by the idea of them not trusting her anymore. More importantly, she did not look at all apologetic for what she had done. "I never share a fellow woman's secrets. You're going to have to find all of that on your own."

Sintra Kennin stared at Angko for a bit. She was busy drinking from her cup and writing something on a little journal.

Raxri decided to go on ahead. "If that's so, then can you us with the next step we wish to partake?"

"And that is?" Angko spoke nonchalantly now. She was too busy writing something on her journal.

"We... wish to speak with her. With lady Usisi."

Angko raised an eyebrow at that. "You wish to speak with her? Or don't mean to say that this is some sort of euphemism for exorcism. I am merely trying to protect you, you know. Anyone who has ever tried to exorcise Usisi... nothing good has ever happened to them."

"We know that," said Raxri, speaking before Sintra Kennin could say anything. They wanted to see if they could solve this one without brute forcing the subject. "Which is why we are attempting a different way. We are trying to help her. We wish to talk to her to free her of her attachment."

Angko smiled. "Ha! I see what you're getting at, Heaven Dancer. It's not going to be easy, you know. I know what she wants, and I know what attachments she needs to rip off of her. It's not going to work."

"We wish to try," said Raxri. Angko looked at Raxri's eyes gleamed. Not with the certain reckless naivety that one would see within the many would-be hero types that try to burgeon in the Utter Islands--and subsequently get killed. Rather, this was the eyes of a helper. The eyes of someone that knew they can do something, so they will stop at nothing to try and help. This was a community worker, a social helper... it was the eyes of an everyman who wants to make themselves useful.

Raxri had no other thoughts in their mind rather than wanting to help Usisi. This was the truth: ever since they found out about the truth behind the ghost, the first thing they began thinking about was how to help her, how to free her from this particular suffering. They had no idea how to do it, so seeing that they're surrounded by people that could potentially have the very means to be able to do so filled them with glee and with noxious, pungent determination.

Raxri will save Usisi... even if it will kill them.

Angko smiled. She said: "You know, this is not the Heaven Dancer that I have heard tales about." She broke into a slight chuckle.

Raxri blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"The Heaven Dancer I've heard of--as I've never met them, or you, I suppose, past you. They do not act like this. They were far more rational, far more calculating, they say. Far more crushing. When they defeated someone it was so thorough and it was so complete that the enemy has no space for retaliation. Sometimes it was humiliating, but sometimes it became a point of pride to be beat down by the Heaven Dancer themself."

Raxri leaned back. "Interesting. This Heaven Dancer really must have been a character. If they were so ruthless, how did they get killed?"

Angko laughed. "Well, everyone eventually gets a comeuppance. It's just a matter of being at peace with yourself and with the world when it happens."

Raxri's forehead knotted in concentration. What kind of person was the Heaven Dancer? Were they a ruthless martial and magick master, cutting through all obstacles before them? Was this someone I wanted to be again, if given the chance? Will my memory coming back change who I am now? For the most of their post-memory loss life they've kind of assumed that this personality and thinking process was the exact same as the personality and thinking process of the person before they lost their memory. But now that they were hearing about all this... is this really them? They never had any inclinations to be reckless, or to beat an enemy to the ground... Not yet. Another point of memory they had to wallow on. It somehow made Raxri's stomach churn. The anxiety burned through them, piercing through their liver like a lance. This will weaken me. I shouldn't let it linger. Feel it then let go. Let it flow like the river.

Like the river.

"Anyhow," said Angko. "You really think you will be able to help Usisi?"

Sintra nodded. "Whatever it is that she will wish, we will try to accomplish. Her wants will take precedence over us."

"If that is so then give me a moment to speak with Usisi. Please, take some coffee and some snacks, if you would be so well inclined."

"We thank you, achi Angko," said Raxri. "I know it must've been a disruption to your business..."

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"It has," said Angko, nodding. "But as of the moment it doesn't seem I have any customers, so I will be able to do this one thing for you very quick. Afterwards anything else we must do must be after work hours. Okay?" She rose to her feet, clapping her hands to dust off any crumbs. She climbed up the ladder that led to the house's attic section. The section closest that is a representative of heaven.

Another completely new anxiety lanced through Raxri: the fear that a customer would walk in without the owner of the business being there.

Thankfully that didn't happen. Sintra had decided to meditate in a corner to refill their spiritual stores. Raxri decided to just sit there and eat some coffee, trying out eating meditation techniques. No one ever came through the door. Relief washed over Raxri, but then a slight pang of sadness when they realized that perhaps Angko was not exactly having the best income here.

Angko came back down dusting off something that looked like salt from her fingers. She said: "Well, you will have to wait until the evening, but Usisi has agreed. She will speak with you. A miracle, if anything."

Raxri and Sintra performed the heart reverences as she came back. "Thank you, achi Angko," said Sintra. Hearing achi from a no doubt decades old spirit prince kind of threw Raxri off whack. "We are in your debt."

"You are," said Angko. "But I'll do it for free, just this once. As a way to help out your current floundering position."

They bowed again.

"That reminds me," said Angko. "Before you go, and while I have no customers, please entertain my questions, if it is all right?" Raxri nodded. Angko continued: "What are your goals, Raxri Uttara of the present? Now that you've lost all memory... you essentially have a clear and free path before you. Do you have anything you wish to do?"

Raxri had always thought they had this one in the bag. They were supposed to know the answer to this one... but then hearing the question itself unraveled whatever illusion Raxri had begun to craft for themself. What did they really wish to do?

Don't lose your path, Raxri. You know what you must do. Get stronger. Find the truth of my memory. Find out what happened to me.

It was that easy. Reveal the world again to themself. Don't complicate it. The more complicated, the harsher the existence. The harsher the existence, the greater the clinging and attachment. The greater the clinging and attachment, the less chance of emancipation. How can I help others if I cannot emancipate myself?

They replied: "I... wish to find the truth of what happened to me. Then find out if I have family, if I have any people that might want me back. Then I... wish to cultivate myself, become greater than who I am..."

Angko was shuffling cards. She said: "And then? After you find all your answers and get the cultivation you require... what then?"

"I... " Raxri looked up. "I suppose I've never really thought about it. Perhaps... I will find out if it happens." Step by step. "Step by step."

Angko smiled at that. "Good. Then... I suppose it will truly be beneficial to seek out Guro Sutasoma's tutelage. You might achieve greatness you otherwise would not have been able to."

Raxri nodded. "That is what I plan to do, achi Angko." Whatever form that may arise in. "I hope to learn protective magicks from Sutasoma, or even the Iron Shirt Technique. So that I may strengthen my constitution and hardiness and weather greater blows. I find that I take blows far too often than normal."

"Protective magicks, eh..." Angko smirked. "Very well. You may go. I can sense an employee walking in. Ah, and before you go, I must say, you look way too beautiful as a lady. I'm really, really jealous. You make it look so easy!" She finished shuffling her cards.

Raxri burned pink. They shrugged. "It's the clothing..."

"It's like you're some kind of shapeshifter," said Angko. "Be safe, now, and may others be careful of you! Return by the 19th hour. May your days be beautiful."

Raxri and Sintra decided to stick around nearby. The sun was already almost finished with its long arc into the horizon. "Let's get something to eat," said Sintra. "All this walking around... it has made me hungry."

"Hungry?"

Sintra shrugged. "Well, I suppose not hungry but desiring some food. I'm sure you're hungry?"

"Somewhat," said Raxri, nodding. "What should we eat?" Talking about food did make Raxri hungry, and now they were looking forward going into the night markets again to eat in front of the stalls on short stools and tables.

"Time for a different kind of fried noodles. Have you ever tried pancit?"

Raxri rolled their eyes. "Come on now, Sintra Kennin. You know that even if I have I probably wouldn't be able to remember if I did!"

"Right, forgive me. Come, I know a pancit cart is nearby."

As Sintra Kennin took the lead, Raxri asked: "What makes it different from other kinds of fried noodles?"

"Ha! That's a good question, actually. Let's see..." Sintra thought as they navigated through the crowds moving to and fro the night market. "Well, pancit is common in the Southern Utter Islands more often than not. In the Heavenshards and the End of the World, you see. The fried noodles we tried before was Ong Keang-style fried noodles, you see. Also common amongst sailors. OK Style Fried noodles. But their fried noodles tend to be... crispy, and tend to be combined with shumai and vegetables. Pancit comes from mainland Shen, as far as I know. Particularly the southeastern region, in port city of Punyu, one of the largest ports of the Heavenly Shennin Empire during its... imperialist days. Pancit tends to have a mix of feather-thin noodles and thick-noodles , sometimes there's bits of pork and chicken liver, and then leafy vegetables, usually cabbages, parsley, sometimes string bean. It's really good, oh, here we are!"

A rickety wagon that looks like it had been turned into a sort of miniature mobile home, with various accoutrements and knick-knacks dangling from hooks and ropes. Behind the mobile home was a large blackened wok, where an elderly man with stick-thin appendages but a beer gut was showing. The man had a shock of gray hair and a small pencil mustache. He wore no top, but pants, tapis, and sarong for their lower half.

"Uncle," said Sintra Kennin. "Two bowls of pancit please!" And Sintra Kennin paid.

The uncle smiled a large smile, his eyes disappearing beneath his folds, and then nodded. In short order, they had found a table to sit on, and they sat on low hardwood chairs. Just a few moments after they had sat, the Pancit Uncle said: "Two pancit! Come, come!"

"Oh, that's ours," said Raxri. "I'll get it, Sintra Kennin." They rose to their feet.

Sintra Kennin nodded. "Looks like there are no soy sauce containers here on this table. Look for some on the counter."

Raxri nodded. They went over to the wooden counter that Uncle Pancit had set up in front of their wok. They took the two bowls and began looking for where the soy sauce could have been. After a few moments of fruitless search, they looked over the counter to ask Uncle Pancit, when a firm hand held Raxri's right hip.

They almost yelped, but thankfully their meditation helped them control sudden reactions. They looked to their right but there was no one there. To their left stood a man that was at least two heads taller than them. Slender yet fierce, with the slight hint of muscle rippling underneath their formal Shennin clothing. They had their hair cut short into an undercut, and it fluffed into an almost black cloud atop his face. This ash black hair only sharpened the contrast with his snow white skin. His face had notions of softness, though his eyes looked like they belonged to a cat's.

Then, in an almost unassuming voice--one that belonged to a university student if anything--he said: "Forgive me, madame. Perhaps you were looking fo/r this?"

Raxri blinked. They would've burst out laughing if they weren't so focused. "Pardon me?"

"Ah, forgive me." They did a slight bow. They looked like the splitting image of a noble Shennin Gentleman-Knight, a new class of men that arose during the Warlord Era of the Celestial Shennin Society. He smiled as he did, and a glint of sharp teeth, like a shark's, caught in Raxri's periphery. "Your charm has made me forget my manners. No fault but my own. I am Gentleman Furusun Dangga-an. Second Shark Knight of High Chief Trasan."

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