9 Cultures

Early next morning, before leaving, the little prince was in a pensive mood, not at all like the playful rakshasa from the day before. However, this was the persona that his personal guard and other staff were more used to.

As the said their goodbyes, the old man asked him in his gravelly voice, "What are you going to about the captain of the royal guard?"

The little prince's mind was honestly elsewhere, but he hmphed in a reflexive reaction the moment he heard that name. The leader of his personal guard Shaura of Garja vansh already updated him on what his grandfather shared with him.

"He thinks he's still loyal, so I'm going to leave it alone for now," the boy sneered, his eyes dark with cruel traces. It was an expression that should've been out of place on an eight-year old, but it fit just right on the keen and astute face of Prince Vajradandaka.

His grandfather didn't say anything about his decision, but the boy sensed the old man's hesitation. Looking up, he said, "I know. You are thinking about big brother too. Father-Indra didn't let him go to battle this time, so big brother is very frustrated. He is itching for an opportunity while keeping his eyes on news from the frontline. The moment he finds an excuse, he'll go ask Jeh-shaan of Patr-dal to lend him some troops, and he will rush there. It's only a matter of time."

Despite the fact that he knew what to expect from the little guy, his eyebrows still floated up in surprise. He was right. Little Cactus always surprises him in the end.

Like a small figurine of ancient wisdom, the little prince put his hands behind his back and shook his head side to side. "The captain of royal guard won't turn now. Patr-dal vansh had been loyal for generations. He won't become the sinner of his clan…not that easy. Only if father loses the war…or if we suffer any major setback from this conflict in the borders, only then will he think of turning. So it's still safe to let big brother borrow troops from him. He can still be used."

Shwetasura's old heart skipped a beat at the analysis of the child. Even he didn't deduce so cleanly, the intentions of the boy from Patr-dal. The kid was ambitious, he was a high-achiever. As such, he can easily be bought over to the other side by enticing him with glory. However, he is not stupid! He will leave himself a way out. Going into the grand prince's camp now means just cleaning his neck for the guillotine if the king takes back victory at the border. The grand prince is redoubling his efforts at this time precisely to make use of this chaos during wartime, but Jeh-shaan still falls into the group that would rather let the chaos pass than to gamble with their fate.

His grandfather didn't ask him anymore. He didn't want the child to think about worst case scenarios. Even though his big brother was a bit too upright and more naïve than him, there is still his father and grandfather to take care of the dirty parts of maintaining a monarchy. There is no need for a child to be involved in the bloody business.

Protected from all sides thusly, the little child got onto his horse and thought no more of traitors within the kingdom. One day not too far in the future, he will regret being so casual, but it couldn't be helped. He was, after all is said and done, only a child and his mind tended to drift on to several different things at the same time.

The tight and dangerous looking platoon bypassed the huge lake with eye-catching momentum. The ground gently elevated as the dry forest came into view and the noises of the horse hooves became muffled as they rode over the thick dry grass.

The little prince's eyes were unfocussed. He was thinking about all that his grandfather told him yesterday, about the several different cultures in the land. Although there was much interesting content in what he said, Little Prince Vajradandaka's mind was stuck on the starting few statements.

"Little Cactus, all of existence can be divided into two primary dualities. Solitude and multitude. And the known and unknown. These two dualities are states of existence from which all humankind takes shapes. The first type of culture I will show you today arises from the first primary duality. Solitude gives rise to ascetism while multitude gives rise to civilization. Ascetism is a type of culture. It can be encountered in all types of societies. It can be encountered within your home, within a buzzing city, or it can be encountered in a forest far removed from human society. Ascetism is a state of mind, a state of life. It can last for a lifetime or it can last only for a limited amount of time. It is on account of this variability that it becomes a culture. Culture is something that is full of variety. Pure ascetism that is the goal of every ascetic might not have any variety and therefore cannot be distinguished as culture."

"And from the second primary duality of known and unknown describing existence, the rest eight cultures of mankind are born."

"Eight cultures?" Vajradandaka asked, leaning on his grandfather with vivid, eager eyes.

"That's right, eight cultures. When I said nine cultures, I was referring to this classification of cultures rather that what I encountered in my travels. Little Cactus, this world is very wide. It is humungous and filled with hundreds of different kinds of people. How can it possibly have a mere nine different cultures? However, despite the several dozens of cultures and people I encountered out there, I was thankfully able to classify each into one of nine types born of two primary dualities."

"So what are the eight cultures," Vajradandaka squeezed his grandfather impatiently, asking.

"The eight cultures…To talk about the eight cultures, one must first talk about the primary duality of the known and unknown, which in turn give birth to four primal emotions. By channeling these four emotions stably for generations, human society is born."

And then his grandfather spoke for a long time about the science of emotions and the origins of humankind's different ways of living. Most of it went over the little prince's head, but the low gravelly monotone of his grandfather hypnotized him and arrested his mind in that warm intellectual exchange in time.