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KALON
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Chapter Sixty-Five: Alom
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Daska City, Inner city, Inner Clan Assembly Hall
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Luna’s hand traces through her blue hair, and even though I do not return her gaze, I feel the pity in her eyes. I do not want it. I do not need it. There is purpose building in my bones that dulls the pain. Purpose that presses past it, and gives meaning to my existence again. There are things I must do before this demon from within the Cursed Edict tries to claim me. Thinking about it, I decide to ask Luna more.
“So, this Amon, how long before the Cursed Edict claimed him?” I ask her.
“I don’t know, he died more than a thousand years ago,” she says. Her eyes linger on me still, she wishes to ask me why there is nothing left for me in my old city.
Looking down at my wrists, they are still bruised from the restraints the Arasha Merchant Betran had them bind me with. I didn’t even thank her for removing them, the shame of being this indebted to her is weighing on me now. The more I reminisce on what has happened, the deeper the shame builds. A chasm has formed between us, caused by my inability to offer her value. She is smart, she is strong, and I am a burden to her, yet she is so kind that she tolerates me. I don’t know if this is what upsets me the most, or if it is that I accept her help, that I need it. Without her, I would be dead. Even if I had made it to the city gates, I never would have opened them in time.
“You said before that Edicts are like the will of a God.” I say, thinking deeper on it “What God made the Cursed Edict?”
She does not answer for a few moments, as though pondering on whether she should answer more, or ask her own questions.
“I don’t know,” She admits, taking another pause, “I was told that the Cursed Edict is from the time before the Gods. One of the few from the Reliquary of Edicts that predates the Imperium itself.”
“Before the Imperium?” I ask while looking at her, she looks deep in thought still, but her eyes glance over, catching in mine, “What came before?”
“I don’t know,” she admits again, “There is much that has been lost from the time of the Old Gods.”
Old Gods, new Gods, they are all the same, deaf to the cries of the many. Though I am curious about what came before, something else finds its way into my mind. Thinking back to when I used Netherium to channel Netheric Maka. The power it gave me, if I could learn to harness it, then I would be more useful, it would certainly help me find the brothers and get revenge for Riza.
“Is it possible to use both Etheric and Netheric mana at the same time?” I ask her, curious about the depth of Maka and the truths it may hold. I have used both separately, but what if I could use both together? What would that even mean? So many questions.
“It is said that they cannot coexist.” She says, yet her brow is furrowed “Though, I am not sure that is actually true.”
“Why?”
“Etherium exists in a stable state, but when the mana is drained it becomes Netherium.” She says, holding her hands out to illustrate her point “Netherium can become Etherium again, given enough mana, but Netherium seems to be persistent without it. People with runes, they are almost like a shard of Etherium in a way. When their mana is expended, they become Netheric. Which means that they must already have Netheric mana inside them, existing in balance with the Etheric.”
Arrum had asked the Sage about this before, but his answer was vague. It is something that has been on my mind of late though, thinking about how my body broke the Netherium down.
“I was taught that only the Krothaspawn can harness Netheric Maka, but even then, they cannot empty a shard of it, nor shape it as people do with Etheric mana.” She turns now, looking at me with rising curiosity, “Yet, the Netherium I pulled from your body, it was being transitioned into something. I don’t know exactly what though, but it was completely inert, void of all mana. Among countless questions, it begs the question, can we learn to harness Netherium? The implications of it, I can scarcely imagine.”
“What of the other runeless on other worlds?” I ask her, curious how they are different from me.
“In the presence of Netheric mana,” her expression turns glum, “Without runes to protect them and help them store Etheric mana inside, they become Krothaspawn rapidly.”
“How can they exist on other worlds then?” I ask, confused by it.
She does not look up at me for a moment.
“This world is not like most.” She says, stretching her neck uncomfortably “Most worlds, and even most ships, have Etheric amplifiers that dampen ambient Netheric mana, though they rarely need to use them. Those without runes live mostly normal lives because of it. This world, however, is steeped in Netheric mana. Abnormally so.”
“Has no one tried to study the relationship of the types of mana before?” I ask, it seems strange that she does not know more.
“Doing so would mean that they disagree with the Theocratic Imperium, which would make them a heretic.” She says, then thinking on it further “I am sure there are some that do study it, but most accept the Gods' teachings as a law that cannot be broken. The future would be grim for those that did not.”
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There is hesitation in me to speak further on it, remembering what the Sage told Arrum and me as children. He had said that if anyone found out, they may try to take me. To study me, the horrors he described that they might do was enough to keep my mouth closed for years about it. It is strange to be speaking of it now. There is an even stranger curiosity in her eyes, I cannot tell if she seeks to understand… or if she is like Nekam and wants to barter me to someone like Betran. Something tells me that she is not like that though. Yet, to be safe, I will not tell her of my experiences with channeling Netheric mana.
“Your existence stands in contradiction of the teachings given by the Gods. They tell us that Netherium is poison to our souls, that it is unusable, only fit to be used as a weapon.” She says, looking at me deeply with a strange curiosity, peering past the surface “Yet here you are, in contradiction of the God’s teachings, an anomaly that I cannot explain. How many secrets could you help to unravel I wonder…”
Unusable? I remember the feeling of Netheric Maka coursing through my body from the Netherium. The power I felt from it was intoxicating. There is caution in the memories though, remembering that it nearly killed me, that it nearly took my senses.
“I know that we agreed to not pry,” she says, coming closer, sitting next to me now “But, I want you to know that I am here if you want to talk about it, or perhaps why you were in restraints when we met again.”
My eyes move to hers, more pity, as if I did not have enough already.
“I do not want to speak about it.”
Standing, I move to another bunk, putting some distance between us.
“Speaking about it won’t hurt you.” She says, her tone somehow even softer now “It will help you process it.”
“Kuwathi do not speak of their problems, they find a blade and solve them.”
She sighs, shaking her head.
“Not every problem can be solved with a blade, Kalon,” she says, folding her arms in front of her.
“Then you have not found the right blade.”
“Forget it then.” She says, letting out another sigh as she looks at the ceiling now, laying back against the wall. Her eyes look tired, I wonder if she has been sleeping well. I need to focus, I need to learn what is most important.
“You still have not shown me this mana tracing you spoke of,” I say, turning toward her again.
“I am not the best teacher.” She says.
“I am not the best student.” I retort.
She gives me an eye, and a small grin before she stands again, sitting next to me. I am about to move once more, but she grabs my hand. It is soft, yet I can feel that she has practiced diligently with a blade or another kind of weapon, the callouses are a testament to it. I wonder how we would measure, if she were not so strong, nor so fast. In her stride, I have felt a great amount of training, but there is no edge to it, like she has never taken a person's life. Still, I am curious. She grasps my other hand, sitting in front of me now.
“The first step is to try and feel the rhythm.” She says.
Maka hums from her palms into mine, not a large amount, but enough that I feel it. It is like she said, there is a rhythm in which she moves it. Something beneath the buzzing feeling. Her eyes do not leave mine as she changes it, back and forth, she is testing if I can feel the changes. This is similar to the way the Sage taught me to feel Maka. He had Arrum practice with me in the same way for years. Until one day, I heard it. Until one day, I felt it.
Pushing back the same rhythm of the Maka she sends, her eyes grow wider as she feels it. Twisting the melody, I change it to another tune, testing her own ability to replicate it. She gives me a half grin as she sends it back, with more force this time, the rhythm much faster. The runes on her arms begin to glow. The Maka is alternating between three tempos, each one cresting off the last, creating more waves with more intention behind them. I did not know you could do such a thing. The Sage never spoke of such hidden things. It is like she is expressing her runes outward, trying to echo them into reality. The meaning becomes more complex the brighter her runes grow. Until the air itself pays reverence to the song formed from her thoughts.
“This is the first step of mana tracing, most people in my House learn this as children, though it will take them the better part of their life to be able to do this.” She says, pressing it slower than faster, more waves pressing from her, moving outwards, creating a spin in the Maka itself, with us in the epicenter, “When you can do this, you will be ready for the next step.”
“Show it to me, Luna,” I say, there is no telling if I will get the chance again, she hesitates, so I say “Alom, please.”
Her gaze softens again as I say her name, a small flush to her cheeks as she nods.
Soft like the breeze in my dreams, Maka swirls into patterns, gaining momentum from purpose. Before it was three tempos, now it is even more, seven I think. Yes, seven.
I think I understand it after a few minutes, or at least the concept behind it. I try to replicate it, but each time, the patterns become twisted and mixed. Like I am too clumsy to weave it.
“That is how my teacher showed me when I was a girl. I will try to show you more sequences each day.” She says, then turning from my gaze “If you cannot accomplish the first though, it will only frustrate you to learn the later ones.”
I know she means to save me from anguish, but I don’t think she understands that it frustrates me further. It is good though, I will use her doubts to fuel my progress. So that I can show her, and all of them… I am not pitiful.
“I only ask one thing of you.” She says, her hands still not leaving mine even after the Maka has stopped its tune, “Help me give them proper rites.”
My eyes search her, does she mean the dead in the city? She is still worried about them, even days later, with so many pressing concerns. Why does she care? They are not her burden. Something stirs in me though, seeing her compassion for those she does not know. Something like that is dangerous, so I press it down, trying to extinguish the embers of it.
“If you do that, I will answer any questions you have,” she catches my eye for a moment, “Besides what I cannot say. Also, I will accept your deal, to travel together to Tarvashal.”
A strong bargain. It will delay us many weeks, there is no telling how long exactly. Can I afford to say no? Should I not also want to do this with her? My thoughts are in a twist.
“It seems like you also do not know why you can withstand Netheric mana, perhaps I can help you find someone who can help explain it.” She says, gripping my hands tighter “Just because I have not seen it before does not mean that scholars cannot explain it. Surely there are others like you, the Galaxy is very large after all.”
Others like me? Am I not so different? Are there truly others who can relate? Can she really help me figure it out? Why does she want to help me? She did not have to offer more for our bargain, I was about to agree. It feels dishonest not to say this. After everything.
“I was going to say yes already, you do not have to give me more.” I say lowering my gaze, “The debt between us will already be too great to repay.”
She pulls me into her suddenly, letting go of my hands finally and wrapping her arms around me tightly, my eyes blink. Is she trying to comfort me? I do not need her comfort though. Why does she seek to give it? My hands hang at my side, unsure of what to do.
“It is I who am indebted to you.” She says softly in my ear.
My hands betray me as I embrace her back for a moment, the feeling of her comfort is overwhelming me until I push her away. Standing from the bed, turning from her. My heart’s beat is erratic, my breath is uneven. Why is she evoking so much in me? I am not used to such things. It is confusing, mixing with the pain of my broken heart.
“There is no time to waste then.” I say, breathing slower, pressing back the emotions and filling with the calm, “We should begin.”
I feel her hand tug at my shirt softly, I pull away from it. Glad that she does not hold firmer, lest I may lose the will to leave.
Finding heavy furs, I tightly bundle myself and wait for her by the door, ready to begin.