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“You have seen Lat and Uzza,

Have you seen the third idol, Manat?

Do you have a man among you and a woman with God?

Indeed, this is an unjust distinction.

These are illusions conceived by you and your ancestors, and the Almighty has given them no authority. The unbelievers, having already heard the gospel from the Lord, merely follow delusions and base desires.”

This is presumed to be from the Quran, Surah 53:19-23.

Words engraved that deny a past once worshipped and revered.

Since they were carved in stone, centuries later, they still deny the existence of idols without fading away.

And thus, that which was denied as an idol held no value whatsoever.

It was simply a stone with history within.

Though it may bear a story, it was an object devoid of magical value.

Perhaps it was always meant to be this way.

If being worshipped grants special power, then what would be considered special?

Even in Korea, people once prayed in front of great ancient trees, and whenever albino or mutant animals appeared globally, they would stir up chaos, claiming to be cursed by evil beings or blessed by divine entities.

Hence, origin and worship do not necessarily endow magical meaning.

[How quickly the tale unfolds. Seeker, did you not feel the guidance of Banat Allah there? Did you not sense the guidance of the three idols there?]

Ashtosh Singh, upon hearing Park Jinseong’s words, seemed pleased, as if the story was becoming smoother.

Then, he asked if he did not see or feel something unusual there.

There was no doubt about it.

He was convinced that Park Jinseong must have gained something from it.

Whether it was something felt through the senses, spiritual, or merely instinct or imagery.

“Hahaha.”

Park Jinseong laughed at Ashtosh Singh’s words.

Something special.

He insisted there was nothing special.

What remained were traces left by those who hated pagans, symbolic of the vandalism that chiseled away at the stone.

How could one feel anything special upon seeing the portraits inscribed with phrases that both sacredly and brutally mocked the very owners of the megalith? Only desolation existed there, with the inscription proclaiming that the illusions created by their ancestors were mere abstractions, that Allah granted no power to that name.

It was a tomb, a gravestone. A mockery of the faiths that rose and fell countless times.

In those traces, devoid of any respect or even a semblance of reverence, there was nothing special to find.

‘Indeed. If one wants, it could be used as material.’

But what kind of specialness could that mean?

If one were to use another megalith erected at Banat Allah, which is well-preserved as a cultural asset, the related magic would surely be more effective. And assuming it is used as material for Abrahamic magic… there are far better materials scattered about.

It is likely that removing stones from the building in Jerusalem, etching phrases, and using them would yield better results than that megalith.

What other specialness?

None.

He could sense no instinctive understanding, hear the whispers or symbols of Banat Allah, nor receive any inspiration.

His disappointment in witnessing that was even less than the emotion felt when viewing the hideous, war-torn museum, truly an item that held no value for Park Jinseong at all….

‘I see.’

In the world, such things are deemed valueless.

They offer no inspiration, no experience, and possess no memorable specialness. They are useless financially and functionally, with none to speak of their worth, how can one claim anything else is without value?

Ashtosh Singh, through Anastasia, was trying to emphasize that specialness to him, but…

Haha.

No matter how many sweet words are spoken or attempts made to elevate its value, if the party itself recognizes none, what utility can there be? Giving a drifting person on the sea a sports car at great speed while explaining its utility is foolishness, as is presenting a ship to someone stranded in the desert; both without meaning.

“The attributes of holiness and power, awe, horror, and fear, are mere garments worn by our Creator, adorned as Adonai.”

Slowly, Park Jinseong spoke a piece of poetry once fervently sung by ancient mystics.

Then he gazed at the sculpted mouth and spoke.

“Even clothing has differences inside and out, and each person’s form varies. Thus, what meaning does the form conveyed by clothing hold? Moreover, if clothing is an item that can be worn or removed at any time, then what should we truly seek?”

[So, Seeker.]

Park Jinseong’s words seemed meaningless.

But Ashtosh Singh responded subdued, as if understanding.

[Clothing, truly like that….]

Clothing is a symbol dividing the wild from civilization.

Clothing is the realization of my ego, a reflection of how others perceive me.

The inside of clothing wraps me while protecting me from the outside.

But I ask.

What difference is there between the inside and the outside of clothing?

If the inside and outside were flipped, would there be any difference at all?

Would flipping it not wrap me and instead lead the outside entity to me?

By flipping it, would it realize the gaze of others and allow them to view my ego?

Is that truly so?

If not.

Then if so.

What then is the meaning of clothing?

And if there is fundamentally no difference between the inside and outside, then if inside and outside have inherently no meaning, if we understand that clothing’s characteristic is to be worn or removed at will, what is it then that we should truly strive to preserve?

And now, what could be the intention behind Park Jinseong’s question?

[The seeker’s intentions are clear to me.]

It refers to the divinity known as Banat Allah.

It speaks of the megalith of Banat Allah that Park Jinseong saw.

To Ashtosh Singh, it was guidance and something worthy to confront and was something he could confidently express to Park Jinseong. But to Park Jinseong, it held no value, and he found no utility.

And the essence of the two held no difference.

Though each may feel its utility differently, each may perceive it differently, and though each may see its form as dissimilar, they share the attribute of clothing; the essence of clothing is that it can be taken on and off at will, and it can change its form and shape.

[Expanding into China… Ah, flames, flames…!]

The negotiations fell through.

Ashtosh Singh’s ‘clothing’ did not stir Park Jinseong’s heart for that which ought to wear it; rather, it unveiled the fact that it was unimportant, thus leading the situation to unfold contrary to Ashtosh Singh’s intentions.

[But flames, Seeker! There is something you must understand. The flames consume all, but one thing: when there is nothing left for the flames to burn, they cannot trespass that place. Also, flames will inevitably be devoured by stronger flames. And we call that… ]

The fire line—

Ashtosh Singh’s voice gradually diminished.

Fizzling out.

As if it had fulfilled its purpose, the gradually disintegrating statue crumbled away.

[Ah… flames, people, the flame of the heart, the tie of people, fire line… Seeker, the firewood… will be waiting… Seeker…. ]

The voice grew smaller.

Now, it had become so faint that one could barely hear it, like a whisper from a dream, a lingering echo that fades into oblivion once one awakens, revealing Ashtosh Singh’s will to Park Jinseong.

And Park Jinseong responded.

“Firewood, huh.”

To him, that was of the same logic as mentioned before.

For Ashtosh Singh, that would be firewood, but.

“It is clothing.”

For Park Jinseong, it could very well be clothing too.

 

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