Carefully, he slid off the lid from that golden case. It moved without any resistance at all, as though thousands of tiny hands were helping him remove it from the inside. And then bared was the simple mahogany wood of which the scripture had been wrapped around.
He pinched the end, and drew it out gently, treating it with the greatest amount of respect. Contrary to all the finery that surrounded it, the scroll itself looked fairly ordinary. A wooden cylinder as it's mantle, and it's parchment carefully wrapped around.
Finding the end, he drew it out, so that he might inspect it further. It really did look incredibly simple, even when opened. It was written by the hand of a normal man, and was not embellished with calligraphy or diagrams.
"Oh, it's upside down." Gengyo realized, after he was unable to decipher what it's contents were attempting to communicate.
Once he flipped it around, the writing was much easier to read. Its phrasing was simple and purposeful as he read.
"Within these words, you will find written direction on how to become a master of the Lone Dragon's Judgement technique. But before you pursue this path – for it will be a great commitment on your part - I have a series of questions for you."
His words echoed quietly in the chamber, and he paused to look over that final word, before continuing.
"To master this technique, your heart must be as its creators was. Are you a slave to wrath? Does your body vibrate with that intention? Do you feel empty when your anger is not there to guide you?"
There were words and there were words. Those written in that scroll could only have been stroked by a man familiar with such experiences himself. With a light nod of agreement in response to each of the three questions, he read forward.
"This will take time to master. Perhaps even your entire life. Are you willing to make that commitment? Are you willing to pursue something until the end of your days without the prospect of progress?"
He frowned upon reading that passage. In everything he pursued, progress had always been held in the highest regard. For what more was there to aim for, than to be better than your previous self? It was a game he had played with himself as a young man. He would ground himself in a certain moment, and evaluate himself. And then he would think back to the previous year, and imagine who he was then. And then he would ask himself a simple question: "would I be able to defeat that man, both physically and mentally?" The answer, at that time of his life – it had always been a solid yes.
"To pursue something without progress… You do offer some difficult conditions, don't you, writer?" He asked to no one in particular. "Very well. When you aim for something so lofty, you should do so with a resolved heart, and be prepared for the lack of progress. I will be able to take heart if progress does not present itself."
He spoke in response to the book's questions as though he was having a conversation with another man. As though it were Soroko or Momochi, for it was the sort of thing they would profess – those kinds of difficult to answer questions that you could not reply quickly to.
"Very well, dear reader, you're been brave – or arrogant enough – to continue reading even after answering those questions. Then, I will introduce you to the first part of this technique."
"The first part is not a stance, but a state of mind. Even if alone, with none to bow, a dragon still remains a king. Can your heart claim to remain the same? Can you still confront the world with a kingly aura, even if there are none that follow you?"
"So a prerequisite is solitude, then. It makes sense, given the name. Well, I do not that that will pose a problem. It is only in this life that my solitude has been lifted." Gengyo mused.
"To cast judgement on others, one needs to be righteous himself, otherwise this technique will always fail. Since you are able to understand that, let us proceed with the first stance of this technique."
As he read those final few words, he had expected a diagram or at least some sort of imagery to follow, yet there was nothing, apart from more text. No matter how much of the scroll he unravelled, it was completely devoid of any imagery.
"It seems this will be a challenge… Assuming a stance that I am unable to see."
"As a testament to a time before our own, in which the dragons roamed the earth, this stance is more an interpretation, than a set and solid way. When this stance was first imagined, its creator stood high atop Mount Fuji, and reminisced about ancient times. He let his body tell that story, and thus the first stance was born."
"No wonder." Gengyo said as he realized why the others had been unable to master the technique. In a sense, there was no technique. It was an idea that had been written. "So to be able to use this idea, then I must walk the supposed path that the creator did, and allow the images of a dragon to possess me."
As when he had mastered control of air pressure, this no doubt would be a different feeling. There, high up in the ceiling, sat a golden dragon, bearing his teeth down at him, and he could only imagine the fury it felt at been trapped – at ceasing to exist, and merely becoming frozen in time, as a relic of the past.
He did not truly believe that dragons once roamed the skies. No fossils had been found of them. Yet what did it matter? In this context, like the technique, the dragons were merely an idea. They symbolized what he sought to achieve.
Before he attempted to try anything, he read on, wondering how he would know when he had achieved the state that had been written.
"The stance itself is power. It is wrath, and it is nobility. A dragon does not cease to become a dragon merely because it is not engaged in a fight. When you have mastered the stance of the Lone Dragon's Judgement, then you will be able to feel heat within your palm, because it will be on fire."
"…" Gengyo read that last set of words again, to make sure that there had been no mistake. But that was undoubtably the kanji for fire – he would not mistake it, for it was one of his favourite words.
"Hah… Just how far do you monks attempt to push the boundaries of what is possible? Controlling the pressure within the air – that is something I have come to accept, and understand, even on the scale that you perform it on. But conjuring flame at will? Surely, it's some sort of trick."
Even if he did manage to grow a flame up from within his palm, then what? Would he not simply be burned? He'd read of instances where humans had supposedly spontaneously combusted, yet he'd never believed him. But after what he had read, he decided to give those stories the benefit of the doubt, and assume that such a thing was possible. But what then? It still offered no solution to how he might protect himself against the extremes of temperature.
Ice – ice was certainly something that was doable. From experience, cold water was something humans could confront regularly, and survive for a good time against. The pain only continued up to a certain point, after which it remained constant.
With his fingers pressed against his eyes, he sighed.
"Well, let's suppose it's similar to the case for ice. We are capable of dealing with it, we merely need to alter our breathing ever so, and adapt to it."
In truth, in reading this scroll, he felt as though he was being made fun of. But with this room that had been made, and all the honour this scroll had been given, there must have been someone capable of this in the past. Else why would anyone believe it.
With a sigh he rubbed his hands together.
"Friction. I am quite capable of that." If he exerted more effort, his hands would even begin to burn slightly from the intensity of the heat. But no flame was sparked to life.
"The mind of a dragon, eh…" He mused, wondering just how a dragon might think and behave. Pride, he imagined, would be foremost amongst its emotions, and so he allowed pride to wash over him, and his muscles picked up on that, making micro adjustments fitting for the amount of pride that he was showing.
"Anger, indeed." He decided, letting a wave of anger light up his heart, and alter his expression. It was relatively easy to do, as he was quite familiar with it.
Those two were the most basic and obvious of all of them. But he knew a dragon would not be so simple, and so he thought hard. Fear or envy seemed unlikely.
"The Lone Dragon, eh… So perhaps lonliness?" He wondered. Even the biggest and most powerful of creatures would feel alone at times. When he allowed that emotion to surface, it made the fires he had burning more complicated. To his anger and to his pride there was an edge, a touch of ice.
Because he was unsure of how to proceed from there, he merely allowed his mind to go blank, as he embodied those three emotions as well as he could, and imagined himself in the position of a great and mighty dragon, as it flew over villages, and contested peaks of mountains.
Inevitably, in this fantasy of his, someone sort to challenge him, and steal the gold that they assumed all dragons must have. It was a human. A powerful human. One that spoke loudly and arrogantly, throwing all sorts of curses towards him. Whilst he was lonely, this was not the type of company he desired, and his pride got the better of him, swiftly turning toward anger.
"Burn… Blacken under foot, ye who dares challenge me who is older than the world itself."
He body moved involuntarily, and one palm swept past the other at a violent speed. From the friction caused, tiny skin cells on the top of his hand ignited, and flew off into the air, giving was to a series of sparks. And then, with the gust of air that followed, they developed into fully fledged flames, lighting up the air around them.
Gengyo stared at his hands in awe, hardly able to believe what he had just witnessed.
"Limits… Are there none?"