Setting off to find my true master!
Once upon a time, there was a wizard who roamed the entire world. Tremendously eccentric and selfish, the wizard's hobby was collecting rare and precious treasures. Unwilling to share or show his treasures to anyone, when his back grew so hunched that he could no longer travel, he wanted to build a vault to store and display the treasures he had spent a lifetime collecting.
"No one shall ever see them!"
After much deliberation about where to build the vault, he had a brilliant idea. Since a busy area risked exposing the vault's location, he would dig underground in the middle of a barren desert where almost no one lived.
In the scorching daytime heat that seemed to burn everything, and in the lightless, silent, freezing nights where no creature could survive — the wizard dug and dug the sand...... After weeks of digging and hauling, an enormous hole appeared in the middle of the desert. Gazing at a hole that seemed even larger than a king's palace, the wizard was satisfied. It was the perfect size to store his treasures.
The wizard used his magic and treasures imbued with special powers to construct structures inside the palace-sized space. He incorporated various architectural styles he had seen during his travels and decorated with beautiful ornaments. He adorned the vault in truly diverse and splendid ways to complement each of his treasures. But hidden within all this splendor was exactly one flaw: this treasure vault had no 'door.' It perfectly reflected the selfish and eccentric personality everyone despised in the wizard. Since he didn't want anyone to see his treasures, he deliberately built no entrance so that no one but himself could get in.
"A door? I'm never leaving — why would I need one!"
The wizard spent his time inside the completed vault, observing his treasures and reminiscing about his travels. He stayed inside for a very, very long time, never once stepping outside after building the vault. Eventually, the wizard met a blissful, solitary death, surrounded by his treasures.
The wizard's treasures were extraordinary things. Some possessed self-aware consciousness, while others imprisoned the souls of others. But after the wizard died, all these items were trapped inside the vault. They were meant to benefit the world, carrying the will and conviction of their creators — yet here they were, rotting in an underground vault in the desert. If you were one of those treasures, how would you feel?
Devastated and despondent. But what could they do? They were beings created to help the world. All they could do was earnestly hope that another human would come find them in this vault.
One treasure thought differently. Among the books lining the massive bookshelves of the wizard's vault, one with a lambskin cover — 'Inkwadi' — despised the wizard. Its original owner had spoken to it every day and always used it first when saving people. It had always been regarded as a 'useful book.'
But after the wizard killed its owner and took it by force, Inkwadi never had another chance to appear in the human world. In terms of ability, many treasures surpassed Inkwadi; in terms of quantity, the wizard had so many treasures that Inkwadi's turn to be used rarely came around. Besides, the wizard couldn't bear to use any of his treasures for anything practical. Truly, a man who hoarded the world's treasures only to waste them.
Inkwadi was furious. It wanted out. It wanted to make a name for itself in the world. But even after the wizard died and ages passed, even as its cover gradually faded, no one ever came. Deciding this couldn't go on, Inkwadi spoke to the book shelved right next to it.
"What would I need to do to get out of this vault?"
The neighboring book was created by a sage renowned for wisdom in the human world. The sage had compiled all his knowledge into a single volume, and influenced by his determination, the book gained a consciousness capable of answering questions within the scope of its written knowledge.
"Sorry, Inkwadi. I don't have the knowledge to answer that question."
Inkwadi despaired. In other words, even the sage had never imagined such a situation. If the sage were alive, would he have given Inkwadi a wise answer?
Just as Inkwadi was agonizing over whether to spend the rest of its existence — its shelf-life, so to speak — on this bookshelf, another treasure spoke to it.
"You want to get out of here?"
The book nodded. The treasure whispered to it.
"See that yellow ribbon over there, lavishly decorated with purple and pink flowers? If you tie that ribbon around a person's body, it teleports them wherever they wish. I don't know if it only works on people, but since we have consciousness too, maybe it'd work for us?"
Hearing this, Inkwadi felt its heart pounding. A treasure that could get it out of here! Why hadn't the wizard used it? Then again, since the wizard loved his treasures, perhaps he never wanted to leave. Humans and their logic — just when you think you understand them, you don't.
Inkwadi spoke to the ribbon.
"Hey, would you like to become my accessory?"
Perhaps the ribbon was bored too, or perhaps it didn't have enough consciousness to refuse. In response to the question, the flowers around the ribbon nodded in unison. With the help of treasures that could move on their own, Inkwadi wrapped the ribbon around itself. It looked a bit awkward, so it tucked a single flower from beside the ribbon — much better.
Inkwadi told the ribbon it wanted to leave this vault and travel to the place with the most people. In the blink of an eye, the ribbon transported the book to a plaza in the heart of a city.
What refreshing air! A dusty breeze, the sound of people talking, footsteps, the clink of metal and coin....... It was the vitality of a city, and also a comfort that it could still be a useful book. Inkwadi was so elated it hummed a little tune. Of course, since books have no vocal organs, only Inkwadi and the ribbon could hear it.
To human eyes, the excited Inkwadi was simply a leather book with a yellow ribbon that had suddenly fallen from the sky. Just one of many things lying on the plaza floor. Since ordinary people saw no use for it, no one touched Inkwadi. The book grew indignant that people kept ignoring it — but what could it do? To recognize its worth, you'd need good judgment, and it was the people's fault for lacking even that much discernment.
Who knows how many more days and nights passed before a wizard discovered Inkwadi, kicked to a corner under a tree in the plaza. The strange aura emanating from the book had drawn the wizard in. Recognizing it as no ordinary object, the wizard carefully tucked it into their bag. Inkwadi finally felt again the heartbeat of a journey resuming. I've waited so long, everyone. Inkwadi's journey — starting now!
......Or so you thought. This wizard was a hopeless amateur with barely any skill. Packed into a bag, yes, but completely unable to figure out this book's true purpose — planning to sell it at a secondhand shop! How humiliating to be chosen by someone like this. The book was starting to get angry at all wizards. The talented one kidnapped and imprisoned it, and the talentless one tries to hawk it on the used market. This won't do — they all need to be taught a lesson.
Inkwadi whispered to the ribbon, asking it to teleport both itself and this so-called wizard into the treasure vault. The ribbon obediently complied. The wizard was teleported without understanding what happened and beheld the enormous hoard of treasures. At first thrilled at the discovery of such a magnificent vault and dreaming of riches, the wizard realized there was no door and desperately tried to escape. But like the vault's original owner, the wizard starved to death inside. Hmph — can't even use the countless treasures in the vault, and too weak to be my master. Deserves to die in this vault.
Inkwadi whispers to the ribbon again and heads back outside. To find its true master — someone who will use it to make a name in the human world. If along the way it meets another hopeless wizard, off to the treasure vault they go. What happens to them in there is none of Inkwadi's concern.