“The mind becomes purified by cultivating feelings of friendliness, compassion, goodwill, and indifference towards those we perceive as wicked or evil.” YS 1.33

The sanctuary stood quiet, timeless. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows against the four great pillars at the room’s center. They stood like silent sentinels, their presence speaking of something ancient, something eternal. Rädsla stood between them, his body rigid, his breath shallow. He was unraveling, and he knew it. But even as his old…

The sanctuary was silent, save for the rush of Rädsla’s breath. He remained on his knees, his hands curled into fists against the cold stone floor. His entire life had been built on the belief that power was taken, that control was seized; and, if he didn’t have it, he would negotiate for it. But…

Rädsla sat alone in his high-rise office, the untouched whiskey sweating in his hand. The city below stretched endlessly, a kingdom built on his control. Yet, for the first time, it felt hollow. “What just happened to me?” Days had passed since he walked away from the deal; the moment he should have cemented his…

In the city of Veridion, where towering glass buildings reflected the sky and power was the currency of life, two forces moved like opposing currents in a great river.