HTG - Chapter 159

Kalon

Chapter One-Hundred-Fifty-Nine: Vedom Norum - Part One

Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation

Solar System: D-447

Location: Orarak City, Colosseum

The Realm of Dreams quakes against the feeling that rises in me, I feel heat coming off me in waves as I try to make the fire grow brighter, trying to turn it into a blaze to burn the demons and stop Krotha. Everyone is depending on me, I cannot fail… I will not fail.

The golden eyes flash in the darkness. Words need not be spoken between us to know that its strength is offered. It wishes to see Krotha burn in the fires that dwell in the deep. It has seen the injustices that I have seen. We are one in this, as we were always meant to be. If what Solara said is true, then the golden eyes and me… we are one and the same.

Krotha laughs atop the mountain she has shaped, it barely registers in my thoughts, the swell of Netheric Maka from the Cursed Edict is pouring into my body in the Realm of Reality.

I can feel it… I am close.

Close to pressing past the fifth Netheric boundary that holds me back. Vibrations rattle the air as I feel the boundary becoming taut. Something else intrudes into my realm now, something familiar.

The air cracks as lightning above strikes the ground near Krotha. She looks upwards with a snarl, light forming in the clouds, from it I see the shape of a being draped in light… Amara. The one who helped me at every turn and asked for nothing in return. The golden eyes do not hunt her, do not seek her, they find only peace in her spirit and welcome her.

“I warned you not to interrupt my fun… False God,” Krotha says, her smile half twisted in rage, “Where is my bitch sister? Cowering as usual? No matter… she always sends me more toys to play with.”

My body in the real world has stopped moving as Krotha turns to face the clouds fully. Amara launches at her. Krotha’s lips roll into a wide grin as she leaps to meet her, the air in the Realm of Dreams becoming awash with the energy of their blows. Time dilates back and forth as they slip in and out of my perception, their movements becoming too fast for me to see. Shockwaves shake the waters when they collide.

The waters in the sea of my soul smash in waves against the mountain Krotha shaped inside me. My eyes look to the disc in the sky that shows what happens in the real world. Time appears to have slowed down to a crawl, I see others I care for have joined Arrum, standing between those who do not deserve the wrath. Raising their arms outwards, speaking to me through their eyes, like bastions of hope in the darkness of our reality. I must break through to them, if Krotha doesn’t kill them, Adonius surely will.

I must become more…

Amara slams into the ground, the light that swathes her begins to flicker giving shape to her form, silver hair spills from her hood as Krotha pulls it from her head.

“You dared to face me again… you are not as strong as your sister, Kuwathi, you never were,” Krotha laughs, raising her arms out, “And yet you have come here, where I have built a foundation and where you hold no power.”

Krotha leans down to her, grasping her by the hair and speaking into her ear.

“You are unworthy of being called The Dawn Mother, you are unworthy of your throne.”

The heat from my soul is rising as the flame presses higher inside of me. I feel the boundary beginning to bow from the pressure. Hope daring to find breath inside of me.

“You come to protect your sister’s child,” Krotha snarls, glancing at me, “He is mine, and mine alone.”

Amara shudders.

“Did you think I would not feel her essence upon his soul? It took me longer than it should have, but I knew him when he lived. I saw him die. She broke divine law and carried him back from the Well of Souls, didn’t she?”

Amara does not answer.

“Foolish of her,” Krotha laughs, “One does not take a soul from the Well of Souls that is not ready and not pay a price. That is why she lost her power? Why she disappeared?”

Krotha slaps her, tilting her head.

“You used to speak more, why are you silent?”

She looks at me, then back to Amara, her face rippling with a sinister grin.

“He doesn’t know… does he?” Krotha leans her head back and laughs, shoving Amara’s face toward me, letting me look upon her for the first time since I have known her.

“Does she look familiar?” Krotha sneers, “She should, she’s your mother’s twin.”

My eyes take her in, deep yellow eyes, like the suns at dawn and dusk. Silver hair wrapped in braids with metal clasps. Her skin is silver, deeper than the hair, her face… I know it. Not from a dream… but from memory. I stop fighting the demons for a moment, lost in the confusion of what I see.

“You will watch as I break the will of your nephew,” Krotha cackles, raising her hand up, stone from the mountain juts up from the ground trapping Amara in its grasp.

“He is different, surely you have felt it, do not do this Krotha, it is not too late to stop,” Amara says, her voice strikes at me, it so close to one that I loved. To my mother’s.

“Oh yes, I have felt it. That dumb Vekka, Kuwathi did not just drag her son’s soul from the Well of Souls. Now he carries something else too, something much older than us, something I intend to harness to burn many worlds before his soul consumes his weak body.”

According to the legends of my people, Amara is Kuwathi’s twin sister.

The meaning of Child of the Dawn resonates. Kuwathi is the Goddess of the Dawn. The one that guides spirits back from the Well of Souls when they are ready. I had thought it, especially after speaking with Solara… but now, I can’t deny it.

Amara’s resemblance to my mother is undisputable.

My eyes lower, taking in everything I have learned.

I am the son of Kuwathi.

Krotha’s hand swirls in the disc that shows reality through my body’s eyes. Arrum and the others will soon fall to her if I do nothing.

Pushing my will into the boundary, I can feel it bending more. I am almost there. The fire licks at the edges.

“He can free Zarae, he can stop the fates,” Amara says, half pleading, “If you…”

“That is what Leora always says,” Krotha sighs, clenching her fist, tightening the stone on Amara, “It is what she said about Amon and so many others. I don’t believe in her false hopes, I believe in power, and the pleasure it brings.”

Amara says nothing as Krotha laughs, walking over to Amon, pressing her foot against his head. He tries to fight but the other demons hold him down still.

“Unworthy,” Krotha says, then points to each of the demons saying the same until she reaches me, grasping my face, “Very unworthy.”

My focus presses past her words, the energy inside me is swirling, trying to find rhythm as the boundary stretches further.

“He will wake her,” Amara says, trapped in the stone.

Krotha laughs loudly, moving back to Amara, grasping her face and moving to her ear.

“She will never wake. The Fates made sure of it,” Krotha says, letting go of her face, moving towards the crest of the mountain, “But please, help my sister keep sending me souls. I do enjoy breaking her toys.”

Krotha’s face twists into a wicked smile, her canines sharp like fangs, pressing against the edges of her black painted lips.

“Watch closely now, dearest blade,” Krotha says, looking up towards the disc that shows reality, “Remember that I told you I would take that which you hold precious.”

She brings her hand downwards slowly, my body in the real world follows her movements, bringing down the Cursed Edict turned blade of crimson wrath towards Arrum and the others. The demons hold me down firmly, but I feel strength rising inside of me, surging upwards. The will of my people, the will of the golden eyes rising with my own, becoming a blade swathed in fire to cut at the darkness.

Time dilates further, changing its flow to be even slower as my will rises higher the closer the Cursed Edict gets to those I hold dear. Every fiber of my being concentrating into the flame of my will. The force that holds my soul’s expansion back begins to crack as the words of Sage Artemius flow into my mind from my memories. The words he told me as a child, words that give rise to meaning.

 A great person seeks to protect the honor of all. A great person will live by ideals that they craft from the tribulations they experience. A great person is unbeholden to the way of others, they carve their own path… no matter the cost to themself.

The boundary which held me back shatters and I feel my soul rushing outwards.

Energy erupts from the center of my being, electricity arcing everywhere. The flame of my will spreads across my entire being, swathing me in its black glow, burning the hands of the demons that hold me down, blasting them backwards, sending them to the ground shrieking from the dark light of my soul. The realm shakes like the roar of thunder as I stand. The waters in the realm of dreams glow brightly matching the blaze upon my soul, pounding in a storm against the mountain Krotha shaped, cracking the foundations of it. Lightning strikes at the ground and the winds torrent around me.

Krotha’s crimson eyes widen as she sees the blaze that continues to rise higher, her twisted smile leaves her face as her mouth hangs agape. The chants of the dead breaching the Realm of Dreams, as they begin coming towards the light, entering the realm of my soul, thousands of them from every direction. Among them I see those who have been oppressed rise again, Barnak leading them, giving strength to the flame with their hopes.

Jutarak – Jutarak – Jutarak

Bringer of Justice

The mountain Krotha built shakes violently, something rises beneath it. Sending cracks down its sides, massive boulders splash into the raging seas. The fire does not stop growing, it spreads towards the demons who hold Amon down. His eyes alit with purple as he looks upon the flame, all traces of crimson burned away as it washes over him, peeling back the remnants of darkness that once swathed him. His eyes hue now fully unobstructed by the crimson... are even more familiar to me. The flames erupt further, forcing the other demons to flee from it.

The top of the mountain explodes as molten rock pushes out, the tip of a colossal glowing blade rising from its crest.

The fire of my will engulfs Amara but does not burn her flesh. The light slowly returns to her body, she turns to look upon me as her stone prison crumbles away. My mind focuses as the flames press further still.

The fire moves towards Krotha, her mouth warps into an open smile as the flames touch her.

“Worthy…” she breathes as the flames blast outwards, pushing her out of the realm of my soul.

I feel myself being pulled towards the Realm of Reality, the flames of my will and the voices of the dead that gather guiding me to it.

***

Realm of Reality

***

My eyes open in the real world, before me is Arrum, Nekam and Neeba. Beside them I see Henek too. All of their Kuwathi eyes glow with bioluminescence, there is hope in them growing as they see me taking back control. They search for answers I do not have time to give. Amon comes into my perception, standing in my shadow, putting a hand on my shoulder, his eyes burn brightly looking towards the screams down the tunnel. I hear the laughter of the snake Adonius.

Looking down at my hand, I see it grips the Edict still. There is no pain from it, my will presses it back, forcing it to my command.

“Take them from this place,” I say to Nekam, “That is my last command,” my eyes peer into his, “That is how you will find atonement for what you have done to me.”

He nods solemnly, looking at Arrum who struggles to stand. My legs move me towards the cries for justice.

“Where do you go Kada?” Arrum asks as I pass him, the others parting to let me through.

They whisper prayers to their gods as they see the glow from my eyes. They are unnaturally bright now, in defiance of the darkness that would swallow all the souls here.

“Vedom Norum,” I reply in the old tongue, not stopping my movements.

My pace quickens as I feel Amon’s strength flowing into my body’s flesh, even without it, my body felt lighter than before, like something has begun to change in it. I can feel the flame inside of me. My muscles are less fatigued, the air is easier to draw in. My eyes feel sharper. The broken bones are already fused back from the Netheric Maka that ebbs from the blade.

My pace quickens further, Adonius’s laughter drawing nearer. I round the corner, the wind blows my hair back as I move swiftly, I see hope filling the eyes of those I pass. Hands brush my shoulders gently as people make way. The song of my people’s blade begins to strum its chords once more.

Vedom Norum in the old tongue of my people, means simply – To Carve The Path.