Death is only the Beginning
There is nothing more chilling, then the lament of a child. Ancient Chinese Maxim
As the life was cut out of him, his spirit rose from his body. He saw distinctly the resistance his subordinates put up to the barbarians armed with nothing more then swords and marveled and the irony of life. When the slaughter ended, he felt his body, his soul, or whatever it was rise higher beyond the tent where he had died. He kept on rising until he could see the whole battle, not at all shrouded by the darkness that he had seen when he was still alive.
The whole battlefield was clear to him, and he wished he had been able to see like he did now. It was amazing still, how the darkness that permeated the world had inspired the barbarians of the Southern Feiliben isles to come together in one final battle. Perhaps the darkness had appeared to them as the ending of the world. And since the world was ending, what more did they have to lose? So they had challenged the Min army to combat and the battle lines, as best as they could be, were drawn up and battle began in earnest.
As the battle winded down as his forces, despite his own death, crushed and routed the enemy. He saw the strewn bodies of both Min soldiers as well as barbarians strewn throughout the battlefield, unified through death. He saw these dead soldiers, Chinese and barbarian alike buried into the good earth. He saw the effect the discovery of his own body and death along with his subordinates had upon his field commanders. He knew that his body would be sent back to China to be buried as the fastest courier ship available sailed towards Suzhou to announce the news.
The battle was over, with Min victory and he could feel a stone being lifted from his heart and he became lighter and lighter drifting towards Heaven. His eyes closed, and he drifted into the land of dreams
And when he woke up, he was in the strangest of all places, Tibet. The Mountain Kingdom of the Dalai Lama. The Yuan Emperors could say all they want, but in the end, Tibet was the Dalai Lamas, and not the domain of the Yuan. Religion after all, was such a powerful thing to the Tibetans, a strange thing in comparison.
With a blink, he came to be in a large room, a well ornate yet contradictorily enough, astute one. One man alone, dressed in the garb of a Buddhist monk he had seen frequently in his travels with a few differences, sat in the middle of the room sitting in the lotus position. The man rose and turned to face him, giving not the least, but the greatest shock in his life.
Admiral, you are early. I was not expecting you until the day after tomorrow. Have you finished with all your mortal doings already? My apologies, where are my manners? I am the Dalai Lama of Tibet as you may have known.
Why am I here? I am hardly a Buddhist, and if I were I would hardly believe in Tibetan Buddhism, and with all due respect, you are a puppet of the Yuan Emperor, the mortal foe of the Chinese Peoples.
I fear Admiral, for it is not a conscious decision you make, it is beyond your power. You have little knowledge of religion and the closest ideal of what happens after death is your knowledge of Tibetan Buddhism. With all due respect, Confucianism and Traditional Chinese Ancestor Worship have little information involving death and what happens after. Ah, the other man I was expecting has arrived.
Great Emperor, welcome to the Gates of the Bardo.
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