Mt. Ohm - God Slayer, K. van Marshall [little bear else holmelund minarik .txt] 📗

chill?”, she replied, releasing the frown to reveal her sweet face as it spilled into a smile.

 

“You never come just to chat with me, not out here”, said Knoah. In truth the usual ginan would have smacked him for being so rude long ago or screamed at him to get his ‘backside in’, but she was being nice.

 

“Today is your pledge, right?”, she asked. Knoah nodded. “But your mind is too unsettled to choose clearly. When your young you never realise that choosing is more difficult then just saying words, you will see”. Ginan looked Knoah up and down, brushing any dust along with the creases from his silk pledge day suit.

 

“I know geegee”, said Knoah impatiently. This was the reason he had been avoiding her; the lectures are too long and usually went back to a time long ago, when she was young.

 

“You don’t, but you will”. Ginan paused and looked into the distance. “You know the first time I met your mother she called me mum straight away, as if she had known me forever. She was a beautiful person”.

 

“You have said”. I would usually love to hear about mum, but not today.

 

“Well, what I came to say is... Life is difficult, sometimes evil, but do not let the grief stop you from achieving. Keep walking son! Your father and brother wouldn’t want it any other way”.

 

After saying her piece ginan struggled to her feet, Knoah reacted slowly, but eventually managed help.

 

“What really happened to mum?”.

 

“I will tell you one day, go focus”, said ginan, before shuffling back into the house.

 

Returning to his seat on the edge of the veranda porch, Knoah closed his eyes and took in a deep breathe. It was not like him to stress so much. Ginan was right, this eve was set as the final Urha for all returners, not a time to wallow in self pity. Since the invasion, many lost and bewildered Urhan candidates returned, to find absolute destruction instead of a warm welcome.

 

Closing his eyes, Knoah focused, allowing the sensations of the world around to envelope him, before eventually dulling each one. First the cool Venzecan breeze, and its whispering over the silent tree tops, then the gentle warmth of Zenntri, the major sun at its apex, then the much smaller red Kallel sun adding its fierce uplifting heat to the equation, and lastly the tiny ever present Saitama sun, which hugs the planet with a healing glow. Breathing slowly; soon all were a distant thought.

 

I am blessed, chanted Knoah, while pushing the last of the external sensations to back of his mind. Exhaling deeply, Knoah sat cross legged, resting his hands on his knees. His palms facing the sky, index fingers and thumbs locked in a circle. Knoah was ready; I am blessed. Slowly a benevolent light illuminated his mind's eye and all other rah points. His inner eye focused on the atmospheric kirah, pulling it deep into his soular battery. After several long, deep breaths, and repeating the process of drawing air in, and pushing it down to the pit of his stomach then releasing - Knoah's kirah started stirring faster. The first sign, a warm feeling in his gut, then the pure light of enlightenment. A smile spread across the face as the kirah began to spiral and spread up the qi channel - the main line which inner energy, the kirah, runs.

 

The sensation brings bitter sweet memories. Once he had mastered igniting his soul he challenged Sabo to a duel, and delivered a one sided trouncing. A treasured memory, but also a reminder of his bitter loss. Knoah pushed the thought away to refocus his kirah, letting it pass through his body and end at his head. As it slithers and creeps hitting each vital rah point, the more at ease Knoah felt; I am blessed.

 

Qi Eckar describes the internal energy system as an etheric tree, its canopy peaks in the mind and its roots stretch upwards from below the bowels. Both the branches and roots spread throughout the entire body; kirah sweeps along the same path veins and arteries carry blood, air and fuel. Once a being has mastered themselves, their energy can infuse them with greater power, and gift them access to greater understandings. Knoah believes every word, dedication to his daily meditations have helped him grow both mentally and spiritually.

 

By the time Knoah's meditation reaches its peak, his mind had calmed, but meaning was still yet to be found. He was once so sure what he would do in life, but with Venzeca in a state and Sabo missing, his next step was lost to him.

 

Maybe I should just choose Frankz or Ussolan, thought Knoah, the idea of adventuring as a Zulon seeming frivolous to him now. In response, his kirah began to flare, Knoah's whole body radiated a comfortable heat, it was time. Again he focused, this time he forced all his kirah to the final rah point, his mind's eye; I am blessed.

 

First I must to confront this... issue, I can't move forward crying over Sabo's fate, thought Knoah. People had seen him in Lonston during the attack, they wouldn’t lie. If Sabo had died, he could have been blown to dust or so badly damaged he may have been unidentifiable, if so, his body may have been placed in one of the unmarked mass graves. Knoah shuddered, chasing the sour thoughts away with a shake of his head. He did not want to acknowledge that as a reality.

 

Sabo would not have stayed back in the shelter with the weak and old, he would have fought. Sabo, you must be dead, but I can’t except it in my heart, I thought I would feel it, like when dad passed.

 

For a while Knoah’s reasoning bounced between his heart and head. Unable to find a compromise, he proceeded to clear his mind and focus on the Urha, pushing the negative thoughts of Sabo to the depths of his mind. Refusing to allow the weight of his grief to weigh it down for too long, like a message in a bottle, the harrowing notion bobbles to surface with the gentle rock of every other thought.  

 

Their love of adventure, nature and pushing their bodies to their absolute limits was a main past time for the pair. During training, they faced many life or death situations in the jungles. Having already surpassed an average ranked Roru Zulon in physical strength and martial prowess long ago, the two along with Els, Judor and a few others have been placed in 'future gene’ category; gene, a Venzecan term used to describe something  extraordinary.

 

We were meant to go on great adventures, but what now, how can I live a free and easy life of adventure when powerful beings can just appear and take everything away, thought Knoah. That’s when the epiphany came. If Sabo is dead, he would avenge him and everyone else. I will change the world, living a life that will surpass average limitations. My legend will reach you in the next world, you hear me bro. With this realisation, his third eye flared - a sharp flush of heat buzzed through his brain - with this Knoah got up; I am blessed.

 

It took awhile for the blood to return to his legs, yet he quickly stretched the aches from his body, lifting his arms, then shaking the tension free with a swift full body vibration.  

 

“It's time to move”, said Knoah. Standing at the edge of the veranda he looked down into the lower levels of Lonston. Knoah only knew one way travel through the city, and that was like a real denizen of the jungle.

 

Due to its risk, only few Venzecan's use this method of movement through the city, as it really is the most dangerous way to travel, although the second quickest. For those like Knoah; brave Lonstonians that possess physical skill, agility and fortitude, they choose to swing.

 

Vines, ropes and thick springy tree branches are all tools to be utilized when zipping through the tree metropolis of Lonston; customised designer climbing gloves and grappler boots also come in handy.

 

Leaping off the wooden veranda, Knoah falls towards the ground, belly first. With the ground rapidly approaching, wind tears the water from his eyes. Spreading his body wide, after swiftly wiping the watery glaze from his vision, he adjusts his body to land deftly on the roof of a zip-cart.

 

One of many slow, over packed, modes of public transport. After the battle only a few lines are in working order. Looking down through the clear roof of the cart, Knoah smiled, it was not a nice smile, but full of condemnation. He ran his eyes over the people packed into the cart below. Seeing the masses of flat foots, belly to back and packed into the cart like cattle being lead to slaughter fields, always made him chuckle, but today there is nothing amusing about the inhabitants.

 

“Its probs maaaad hot in there, the issues of flat foots”, said Knoah, still looking at the passengers riding the public line.

 

Their inability to keep up with pace, relegated them to the role of weaklings in Knoah's current mind. It was simple, to fly through the sky is a sign of physical prowess.

 

This is why we lost so many in the battle, too many unfit Venzecan's, thought Knoah. They taught us in history that travelling through the trees was devised originally to keep away from the dangers of the jungle floor, every individual used to fly amongst the trees. But now we’re comfy, with the cities of Lonston, Bajaane and Aaica built up as they are, there is no need for these flat foots to craft warrior bodies, let alone spirits. Is this what you died for, eh Sabo?

 

Walking over to the edge of the cart roof, Knoah pauses, letting a few seconds pass, as the zip-cart slowly drifts along, passing several hanging vines. Knoah waits eyes locked, targeting the right connection. Readying himself he takes a step then jumps out into the open air. Below him is a mighty fall. If he was unlucky enough to miss the vine, he would have nothing but the hard ground to break his fall. However, with both arms stretched out ahead, he latches onto a vine dead ahead and swings smoothly away into the distance.

Chapter 15 - Pledge

 

The Highbury, a huge round platform several miles wide, located in the centre of Lonston. It sits neatly in the middle of the river Wei, forcing the emerald river to part, splitting the flow around the curved banks of the raised platform. The spiritual home of all Venzecans. The Neergchwi stadium in the centre is large enough to hold every citizen in Lonston. The stadium serves as the base for all major communal events: plays, sports, seasonal festivals, mass meditations and anything of any real importance to the community.

 

The destruction even reached here, I didn’t realise this much of the center pitch was mashed, thought Knoah, as he gazed upon the several scars that racked across the face of Highbury.

 

Like a pebble skimming across waters