Chapter Five - Janaina
"You’re doubting yourself" a voice reverberated across the gargantuan field. The valley was dotted with scars from its recent bombardment. Wisps of smoke rose from jagged craters, marks of piwerful weapons. The compound itself had been completely destroyed, and its docks had crashed onto the ground below.
Gods spent a lot of their effort on strengthen their mind and spirit so that they could make the most of their abilities. They were not lousy fighters by any means, but they typically were not up to the same level as a specialized warrior god like this one in front of him. He was the pinnacle of combat magic. The progenitor. Just as the other principal gods were pregenitors of the other five types of magic.
In this world the difference between a wise man and a fool was simple; a wise man played to his strengths and avoided shortfalls. He held on to his advantage until the best possible moment, because while an advantage could give you the upper hand it could also just as easily slip away. Opportunity was about timing and motivation, and if you hesitated that opportunity fell into the opponent’s hands.
"No, I’m not." Rhema said loses his footing and falling to the ground.
"Yes, you are... but you’re stronger than you believe" the wargod said moving in from a distance to deal the finishing blow.
No sooner had Lord Laakaye made his move then Rhema flung himself at the warrior, no one could see where he’d vanished to. Lord Laakaye reacted, stopped and stood with his feet planted and his arms folded across his chest, squinting into the mist like a tower stuck in the marsh. Wind or rain, he wasn’t budging.
Ogun’s robes were ripped open at the chest.
Rhema swept by like a specter, groping at lord Laakaye with summoned swords. But it didn’t feel like he was tearing at a body at all. Rhema might as well have been trying to dig his nails through stone. Swords that could rip through a nether realm's beast hide only left shallow gashes on lord Laakaye’s chest.
The instant lord Laakaye felt the strike he lashed out with a fist, fast as lightning. He wasn’t one iota slower than Rhema at peak condition, and he was orders of magnitude stronger. There was a stuffy hmph, and Rhema was flung away with all the grace of a discarded sandbag. He hit the ground, bumped up, hit the ground again, and stopped only after he smashed through a tree.
The black haired youth’s body elicited a series of nauseating pops and snaps. In one punch the wargod had done as much damage as Cloudhawk had in a flurry of attacks.
Lord Laakaye dropped his head and looked at the scratches on his chest. A few droplets of golden ichor oozed from them but quickly stopped, and a few moments later they healed completely. A few faint scars were all that remained. “That tickled,” he muttered.
Inwardly Rhema felt his heart skip a beat.
The guy’s skin was hard as steel. He could stand there and let someone hack at him with a sword and they would barely leave a mark. Beyond that, his recovery speed was even faster than perhaps almost all gods bar the godking’s, and judging by that one punch he was terrifying ly strong as hell too. He had always taken it easy on Rhema, and judging from all the openings to finish the battle, he was still taking it easy on him.
Against someone like the wargod, he might have stood a chance if he had a divine sobriquet. A divine power a soul gets after going through the 100 year trial and returning as a god with control over a specific divine concept or element. But even if he had one, he doubted it would make any difference. How was he supposed to fight back? It was like a rabbit trying to fight a pangolin. The fuzzy moron wasn’t getting through that carapace.
A few more seconds passed and even the scars were gone from lord Laakaye’s chest.
As though he knew Rhema's thoughts “Others like you command the powers of ice, fire, wind and earth. They could be twice as strong and still wouldn’t be able to stand against you. But out here, without a sobriquet, what can you do against true warriors like me? you’ve become too reliant on the gifts of the gods. You’ve lost sight of your own strength.”
“Every inch of our bodies has been tempered by pain and struggle you couldn’t even imagine. Any warrior god can defeat a god of equal rank in a straight fight, they just need to realize their potential."
Rhema had gotten back onto his feet, albeit shakily. He glared at the wargod from across the misty clearing. He was out of his wits. He had gotten lucky once and thought he could replicate it again. But now he was nothing more than a sandbag.
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A voice called out “Hold on!”
A woman, seemed to be in her forties,a goddess, clad in a purple robe, walked towards them. Her figure was tall and well proportioned, with hair like spun gold and eyes of the same color. A rare sight, certainly, like captured fire. Her skin was uniquely pale, like she was carved from alabaster and yet smooth as silk.
She was a beautiful contradiction, equal parts stunning and confusing. Graceful, powerful, noble, wild, aggressive. She obviously saw Rhema and every step made the whole field seem to tremble. She wasn’t a woman, she was a beast!
She was trailed by four gods. Her gaurds. Why would a goddess need guards? Rhema thought.
The terrifying woman seemed to hardly move when suddenly she was standing right in front of Cloudhawk. Her golden hair flit on the breeze as though agitated by its owner’s dour mood.
Bean-sized beads of sweat rolled down Rhema’s face. His mind was blank. There had only ever been a few people who froze him solid just with their presence; his teacher had been one, while lord Laakaye was the other. This woman was more imposing than either one of them!
Rhema had a nagging premonition that things were only going to get more complicated but there was nothing for it. What was he going to do?
"Janaina, What do you think you're doing straddling here and interrupting a battle?" Ogun Laakaye said with a rage-filled roar of a lion that made far away trees rattle in protest.
Janaina didn't spare the wargod a glance but just touched Rhema on his head. His wounds started to heal. She wasn't adept at healing magic but she was competent enough.
"Are you okay?" She asked Rhema, ignoring the wargod.
Janaina? Rhema knew he had read of the name somewhere. He racked his head and shortly remembered. She was the only primordial goddess to stepdown from her position as a primordial and was replaced by another. She was the consort to the former godking, Ochalla.
" I’m fine... I was just --"
"Training. I can see that. Your teacher won't be pleased though" Janaina said gently.
"I wont be disrespected on my own land, you will answer me. I wont ask a second time" Ogun Laakaye said with barely holding back
"It seems I am not the revered high priest I should be. Disobeyed, betrayed, by my own kin" lord Imila Agbonniregun said as he stalked towards them. He seemed to appear from thin air.
He could tell just by the way his teacher walked in, that an apology wasn’t going to pacify his ferocious heart. He couldn’t stay here, what did it matter if he pissed off one more person before he left?
"Teacher! It was me. I asked lord Laakaye to --" Rhema quickly said fearfully but was cut off by a hand sign from lord Imila.
"Take him away, Janaina" lord Imila said
Janaina motioned for him to follow her "Come with me young Rhema" She seemed happy to have him to herself.
Crestfallen, Rhema is led away by Janaina’s guards. He locks eyes with his Teacher as he leaves.
"Humph, Unless you have the permission of the king then I see no reason why you would intrude my domain without my permission.” Ogun said with subdued anger. He knew he was in the wrong but that had never stopped him from going on the attack.
The god of wisdom just observed the boy leave until he was faraway before replying the wargod.
“I have now honoured your invitations and yet you complain…besides I was searching for my ward and knowing how stubborn he his. I knew ill find him here."
The wargods face scrunched up as thoughhe swallowed something bitter. The god of wisdom was mockingly replying him the way he did when their roles were reversed, months ago.
"If you honoured my invitation, then I would meet you in my temple and yet here you are, intruding on my personal training ground. I would have broken you with my bare arms if you were a lesser god. Trespassing my domain is one thing but intruding my personal space is another. I won't warn you another time"
"Janaina is not bound by any domain and can move as she likes, I didn't know where Rhema was exactly but having her come here and confirm for me is not a unlawful, no? My ward is under my protection and you can't stop me from extracting my ward from wherever he his, even if it's your personal chambers" Imila said matter of factly.
"..." the wargod said nothing.
Suddenly the temperature dropped and Imila asked "Why was he training even after i expressly forbade it?" glowing hieroglyphs appeared to surround him. Multicolored symbols popped up all around him and floated away.
Ogun scowled "You left me no choice, Imila. You neglect your duty if he cannot fight."
Imila raised his voice and the hieroglyphs seemed to burn brighter "You speak of a time that may never come. He may never return! It could have been mutual destruction. Chaos and Order, gone with the ancient laws they were borne from."
"You think I don’t wish that were true?!" Ogun roared. "You feel it in your bones, just as I do. Chaos is already here... is out there... and it’s only a matter of time before it returns. You're the oracle, you foresaw--"
"I know what i saw...The stronger he gets...will only bring him closer to enabling that vision. The weaker he is the better for him." Imila said sternly.
"Nobody wants this less than I. But this is the only way to truly protect him. He is involved in a way we do not fully understand. If the worst could happen, then we must prepare for it" Ogun said, pleading.
The hieroglyphs starts to fade. Imila’s pained eyes look away, pause for a beat, and then return to meet Ogun's with a steely stare.
"He is to never know the truth about what he is and how he came to be. You will train him harder than every Nirvanan god before him. Five times harder -- ten times harder. You will train him until he indomitable"
The wargod nods.
Lord Imila Agbonniregun began to take his leave, walking slowly but deliberately. With each step, he seemed to fade away from reality. Intuitively, he seemed to remember something.
Then he spoke with a steely edge to his voice "Ogun Laakaye, the next time my decree isn't followed, you might not have a domain to rule over"
He was no longer there.