#thangkas

And you were chosen to paint my thangka? My journey to Shangri-La?

I was young. As warrior to the Kyrati King, I had only just earned my name. Kalinag. I had trained to be the King's protector but he selected me for something quite different. I was sent to find Shangri-La, paradise on earth. His obsession. And I was ready.

Tell me, how can your thangka show the impossible? The only way you can witness paradise… is to live it.

My path here had been long and difficult. I'd seen things… done things… I'd wish on no one. But I was a fool to think that paradise was immune to suffering. The Tiger had seen bloodshed. He was a being born from another world. A Protector. Impaled by the tooth of a massive beast…

There had been a great battle in the forest. The tiger, defending his home. But from what?

Demons had invaded Shangri-La… not of this earth, not of clear mind. Someone… something wanted Shangri-La for themselves. The Tiger had returned from the dead. Not to save my life, but to gain an ally. 

I couldn't believe my eyes. The statue of Kyra revealed the first of the mythical Bells of Shangri-La. But the Bell did not ring. Possessed by an unknown force, the prayer wheel spun at an incredible speed. As if in conversation, Kyra lowered her arms in response. Something here was missing. As though one of the statues had simply decided to spread its wings and fly. The tower of leaves called on me to step closer. A staircase to the sky. Each spin of a prayer wheel cleared a path through Shangri-La. I felt my skills sharpen. My focus narrow. But where that path would lead remained a mystery.

The King had given me a simple mission: find Shangri-La and return to Kyrat. But curiosity had drawn me into a hunt for the unknown demon; the Rakshasa that controlled all of Shangri-La. I could feel my path and Shangri-La's future intertwine.

The King had sent many seekers to find Shangri-La. We wondered if they lived the rest of their days in paradise, or met their deaths.

I was closer to the plague controlling this land. Whoever it was, knew I was coming. The King… my family… my life in Kyrat… was a distant memory. As if in a trance, I'd committed to freeing Shangri-La from evil. To turn back was not an option. But to move forward, was to let go.

The stench of death, fear, and a dark, unknown world filled my senses. I could not stand idle as paradise descended into chaos. And it was failing. This Bell had been chained by a being of immeasurable strength. But even then I could sense its power.

As I approached I could sense the bell's power. I finally had my answer. It dawned on me then that no one would believe my story upon my return. Even you, painter of my own thangka. The truth is… I've never cared. What is the difference between myth and reality? If you are to paint my journey to Shangri-La, you must believe they are one and the same. When you see a miracle before your eyes… there is a strange comfort knowing you carry no answers. Shangri-La was a place that was not meant to be understood. Or controlled. It was meant to be free. This is why the laws of the natural world do not apply in this paradise.

The Bells were not enough to kill the Rakshasa. I knew then there was only one way my journey could end. I felt the weight of Shangri-La's past and future. A future unpainted– Until now. The Tiger knew the circle had to be completed.

I'm often asked, "Kalinag, why would you leave Shangri-La?" But the truth is, I never left. To believe in something beyond yourself. That is true paradise.

Shangri-La is within me, and within you.

Myths talked of ancient monks who journeyed to Shangri-La long ago. These monks tried to follow Kyra's path, and reached a great enlightenment. Some say they built these shrines and statues simply with the power of thought.

My identity as a Kyrati was slipping through my fingers. I began to feel more at home here than I did in Kyrat. But my heart knew that if I stayed, I was not so different from the Rakshasa. Time… time is a funny thing. I'd spent so much of it searching for Shangri-La, it never occurred to me how I'd spend it once I arrived. Shangri-La's beauty washed those memories away.

I had always thought of the world as what I could see and touch. But the Rakshasa's existence taught me my reality is only what my mind is prepared to accept. There were whole worlds I could not begin to understand. But Shangri-La would always provide a path where there was none.

The seekers were beginning to dwindle in number. I was approaching unexplored territory. I began to sense I had reached further in this journey than any who came before. I can't explain, but I sensed a connection between the Tiger and the spire that stood before me. The tiger had gone from one world to the next. It was as though I was leading him home.