Sachihiro

Being a person is a lot more complicated than it outwardly seems. Having all the advantages now I didn’t have before the library I should be ecstatic beyond compare, yet my excitement has slowly mellowed as I transverse deeper into the vast emptiness of this underground space. I can see into the distant dark in muted greyscale using the oculus purchased from the Store but sight just brings into perspective the stark lifeless loneliness of this vast underground space. There aren’t even any algae, shrooms or forms of life breaking up the grey monotony of cold hard stone weathered into various shapes seemingly by the darkness itself.

The further ahead I see and less mystery held by the darkness the lonelier I feel for no apparent reason as far as I can tell. What would I currently be doing if I didn’t have such grave responsibilities to the people I love I wonder, probably still be in those library water pools reading up on chakra.

Is that why I feel this way? Am I feeling burdened by the responsibilities I have to bare?

I jump over a dividing crevice landing in a rolling stride without loosening the concealing shroud of the hooded cloak about me. That was over 30m at an incline I just crossed.

I wouldn’t have been able to bridge that before I woke to my 3rd tier kinghood yet now it barely slowed me, I let the adrenaline grin of accomplishment spread across my face at the manoeuvre.

I’m running at what was probably my top speed when I was an Awakened Lord, now though... Now I run at this speed almost passively, hardly paying attention to myself or my surroundings able to use this running time to think and wonder randomly. It’s probably already been 5 or 6 hours since I started off and I’m not even winded much from the exertion.

I’m an Awakened King with what is apparently an impressive versatility of skills at only 50, 51 years old. I have a family that loves me depending on me to get to them at a home we built with warm affection. I’m wealthy in love, material and martial blessings; why then am I feeling so sad? I’ve achieved more for myself than my ancestors have for themselves and their descendents in generations, am I not satisfied with my lot?

No, I don’t resent my responsibilities to my kin. Seeing everyone safe and strong is one of the only sources of inner warmth I have to look forward to. What then am I sad about being closer to getting home that I’ve been in spirits-know how long?

I’m moving with supercharged agility at a respectable clip of speed. Skilled precision movement, one of my very favourite activities to both challenge and test myself isn’t doing much to improve the cloud of melancholy over me though I’ve never moved better in my life.

I slow, then stop removing the face glasses centring myself with a deep breath. I shift my shoulders getting comfortable in the armour, not used to it but it isn’t as constricting as I feared. I exhale, opening my eyes gazing at the complete darkness closed in about me on all sides, I walk slowly ahead.

I have a lot within and without myself to properly catalogue but I don’t forget that I have a crystal eye within my possession spying on every move I make. Removing the dagger they provided from my waist I play with it a bit, nice balance. It’s sharp against my thumb; I forgot to get a wet-stone too used to spirit items such that I overlook simple basics of tool maintenance.

I spin it through the air catching it as I walk, it has a good weight to be thrown.

I fight my shadow a bit, stabbing dodging slashing at imaginary enemies testing out the feel of the dagger in hand. I feel dangerous, the ease with which I can move and twist about is really on another level but then again only with an opponent can I really test the limits of my current agility.

I replace the dagger in its sheath rummaging in my pouch with my other hand palming the Eye or Argus without pulling it out. On the map I see my destination, the distance I’ve covered and where I am in relation to everything else. The library map is an interactive thing, constantly updating with me as a moving dot going further into this nameless area towards my destination, a World Gate guarded by an Ancient serpent. I estimate a few days of travel at my current pace, much sooner if I try one of the flying shields but no way to cloak a flying shield down here if I do that and not much space to dodge if something does come for me.

I grab my canteen enjoying a mouthful of fresh crisp refreshing water, awareness allowing me to keep moving without losing stride. The sigh that escapes my mouth is a mix of satisfaction, longing and weariness; I don’t know why I feel this way but I feel some type of way.

Putting on the oculus I check for a place I could make into a temporary camp for a bit. I start running again now looking for somewhere sheltered to sit with a burst of urgent purpose in my actions.

It isn’t long before I find an outcropping rock with a nice groove slightly hidden from notice under it. I draw movement detection and hostility runes at the very edge of my awareness with a rune-chalk, I don’t even have to channel into it or anything to activate them. The runes already charged with mana as I draw them, I wonder how these chalks work.

I finish with the protective runes around the open face of the outcrop, setup my new rug on the floor and get comfortable with my back against the solid stone. The runes should discourage anything from casually approaching, keep the sanctity of the privacy of my camp and alert me if anything breaches past.

I take a long breath; letting my aura and spirit out from the tight internal hold to permeate out in its bleak, grey jumble reflective of my emotional state. Spirit-Aura settles and starts cleansing me within and without, washing away the melancholy I now see was caused partly by how thin my spirit energy has gotten. I have a great capacity for spiritual energy since my second awakening and my previous investments in the ethereal energy from the spirit realm.

But how do I replenish my spirit now that the reserves I appropriated from the spirit realm are depleted? How do I replenish my own internal spirit which meshes so seamlessly with my physical being that there is no discomforting burn or pain of any kind when I use it within my physical abilities? My 3rd Awakening toped me up but since then I’ve been using spirit energy passively in everything from reading people’s aura’s to shielding having forgotten that I no longer have the monstrously thick lake of spiritual energy I had to tap into before the tuning-stone phenomenon.

How do I replenish myself without a patron deity, spirit or familiar through which to safely tap into the spiritual realm for resources? I am not gonna leave my zanpakuto in some spiritual place again.

I breathe deep and forcefully, calming my mind of worries and emotions of turbulence as I consider. The implications of my realisation of godhood are that I don’t need to rely on such aids for spiritual sustenance anymore. I should be able to do this much at the very least, what god can't replenish itself?

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Merely bathing gave me a boost to my spiritual energy so that’s one way, but I’m already clean now so that won’t likely work. I need to look deeper within myself again as I was forced to by the library to trigger the Awakening.

I breathe, delving in.

I’m a King now; I am who I am having established myself within myself in awareness of my divine self. I am a creator creating who I-am-being whilst discovering more of who I am in all my various aspects. As much as I am being a god to myself by my own choice of inner declaration the seed of divinity was always within me waiting to be discovered, claimed, acknowledged. As pretentious as it may seem for me, a person led by the nose by entities beyond my current understanding to claim godhood I feel it deeply to be true.

I am a god, and I’ve discovered this godhood within myself so surely it’s always been in me. How special am I from anyone else? According to my own understanding I am a unique existence yet not to the extent that I feel that divinity is only in me and no-one else. So all people must have divinity within them waiting to be awakened, is godhood really within reach of all people though? If it is what’s stopping everyone else from grasping it for themselves?

Why would people with the potential to be gods be living such lowly existences as people do throughout the world? Or maybe it’s just that each one’s path to the divine is different requiring some to live lowly existences in order to further discover themselves within themselves?

I can’t know about others but about myself I am certain.

There is more to this than this ultimate inner hubris. The fire of the divine within me needs stoking; I can’t just acknowledge, conclude and think I am done it’s all finished and klaar. Now that I’ve established myself as autonomous I have to then establish a law for myself, at the very least a clear inner direction that leads me further towards the being I am making myself into. I have to grow further into godhood encouraging the divine parts of me to surpass anything contrary to this realisation of my divine nature.

For one, I can’t be beholden to Spirits from outside of myself. I can’t rely on their strengths or make myself subservient to them in any way. I need independence.

That is the first statute of my constitution. My first law.

I am a god within myself and as such at the very least such entities as spirits and deities should be equals and existences within my reach of surpassing, at the very least. Thus I cannot submit to them, they have no authority over me.

I take in a hot inhalation already bloating with inner light as the inner realisation fills me with spiritual energy blooming from within revitalising my spirit, aura and sense of well being as I’m rewarded from within. A part of my spiritual energy originating from deep within fills me outwardly to the very brim, a piece of the divine part of me which is spirit, bottomless and eternal.

I'm on the right track.

I take deep breaths, calming my racing heart and excitement whilst floating in the bliss of peace that has overcome me from the experience.

I’m definitely on the right track.

* * *

Ori

‘’Again!’’

Steeling my nerves I again charge in shield held steady, eyes on my opponent. We exchange blows, my sword meeting this stave trying a shield bash I find him not where he should be and duck-roll already familiar with his elusiveness. The stave strike flies over my head but is somehow back fast enough to catch my counter deflecting it away.

I stab forward repeatedly in a charge fast and precise my opponent eluding with frustrating ease. Gritting my teeth I explode forward in a shield bash he stops with a single palm to the centre of my shield, the reverberation rattling up my arm. I slash at the offending arm finding it gone with momentum suddenly unbalancing me forward.

A hit to the ribs has me flinching flailing at the offending weapon, my legs are taken out from under me, my shield arm twisted and pulled exposing my chest locking my arm in an uncomfortable position. I parry the stave to the sternum but cry out as my shoulder pops out of socket from added pressure, counter-attacking I find my sword flying through the air no longer in my now twitching fingers.

Easily I’m put down, my guard broken and defence completely shattered.

The weapon master gazes at me dispassionately, no give or mercy in him as he looms over my prone form taken down again in a less than a minute.

‘’What was your mistake?’’

I catch my breath, the pain of our exchanges a balm that keeps me going despite the constant beatings I’ve been taking from the man the past few ten-days.

‘’I over-committed with my shield bash on a stronger foe,’’ the moment he stopped that charge then allowed me to fall forward he had me off balance. From there it was child’s play for the Master to take me apart as he had control of the flow of my momentum.

‘’You relied on having superior strength not knowing the limits of your opponent’s strength, foolish.’’

I grit my teeth getting to my feet but say nothing in response to that. It doesn’t matter that the man specifically said he wouldn’t be relying on his strength in our training sessions but skill in order to help me hone my own skill, it doesn’t matter that I haven’t gotten a single strike through in the past 2 hour of trying, it doesn’t matter that I am tired in pain and hopelessly outmatched.

The medic aligns my arm back into socket to a flare of blinding pain, a salve is applied to my twitching fingers having a hard time tightening into a fist. Two fingers are strapped together and all my other wounds and bruises are taken care of by the silent medic with care and efficiency, my bruised shoulder strapped tightly in cold bandages before he steps away done with me.

The weapon master watches me dispassionately the whole time from the centre of our chosen field, his hands playing on the wooden stave with which he’s been beating me daily for as long as I’ve had the pleasure of his acquaintance. What strategy could I use to get past his guard? A single hit is all I ask for, maybe make him flinch or retreat from my attacks just once at the very least.

I change arms, sword held in left and shield on my right ready for another attempt. I haven’t the slightest chance of ever beating the man of that I have no doubt. I’m embarrassed such an august person is even wasting his time training me but the honour of his instruction is not something I have the luxury of refusing. My continued shortcomings to meet his standards shame me and I fear I may have reached the limits of any possible improvements from how easily he always dispatches me.

I look back into the far distance at the blackness slightly obscured by the gathered clouds and rocky peaks of what used to be my home. Corruptive blackness that has turned everything from the base of those peaks westward as far as anyone can guess into a diseased landscape of rot and death.

I take a stance facing the weapon master’s dispassionate gaze with all the hate I have for the Black Sages that erupted from Pandora and destroyed the entire kingdom forcing this exodus of the last remnants of my people.

‘’Again,’’ I say attacking as quickly and carefully as I can.

More than anything else it is fear in my heart that drives me to keep training, when the Sages next come I don’t know if I’ll be able to kill any again, I don’t know if any of us will survive.

We exchange attacks, I know he could end these bouts much quicker but he allows me to build some momentum though punishing me for every perceived shortcoming with more and more bruises.

I last almost 2 minutes, a new record I’d probably be proud of if I wasn’t the only one of my people that has so far been able to kill one of those monsters. As far as we’ve been able to tell I’ve become impevious to magic, any and all forms of mana based abilities have absolutely no visible effect on me, including healing magic of any kind.

I groan on the floor, the medic coming to me and seeing to my wounds as I lie prone with my eye swelling hotly from this most recent exchange with the weapon master.

‘’What was your mistake?’’ he asks prompting me to analyse even as fatigue wars with my continued consciousness.

‘’You’re just better.’’

I get up. Fear and hate not allowing me to rest; fear that this is all I have to defend my people. Fear of the reverence in people’s eyes when they look at me and hate for those that have reduced us to what we are now, with everything taken from us. We are the last remnants of the people of Southern Kush, barely 30 000 of us remaining from a kingdom of millions not even a year past. Cut off by the blackness from the rest of Azania and territories of Kush.

I should have died in that last stand at the plains at the foot of Cyphris. I was so ready in fact that a part of me did die though I can’t explain this to anyone else.

‘’Again,’’ I attack in controlled desperation.

A part of me died but another part of me was born, one I want to hone and give a chance at life.