“Thanks,” replied Storm, “That explained everything perfectly.”
Caim stared at his grandfather. “How could you envision things that have never existed? You just created them … out of nothing?”
Storm looked at his brother with a devilish grin. “You weren’t scared, were you?”
Caim jumped to his feet and pointed his finger straight at his brother. “No, but I bet you were!”
CRAAAACK!!! Still floating cross-legged, Storm upper cut Caim in the chin, again. Caim’s body flew up into the air before falling back down and landing straight on his head. His white vest once again fell down over his defeated face.
“How many times do I have to tell you,” Storm said, “it’s not a new power. You’re just an idiot.”
An instant later Caim was back on his feet, raising his fists in a ridiculous-looking stance. “What the hell, Storm! You wanna fight!? I’ll take you on right now, with or without your new power! I’m not scared of anything, not even grandpa!”
Storm raised an eyebrow. “You’re scared of nothing?”
“Of course not!”
“What about that spider on your hand?”
“WHAAAAAAAAT!?” screamed Caim, jumping straight up into the air and landing a dozen feet away. In an instant, he had somehow taken up his Fallblade, ready to do battle with a bug a fraction of his size.
Storm cracked a grin. “My mistake. I guess you really were scared of nothing.”
“You’ll pay for that,” growled Caim.
“I’m sure,” said Storm, lying on the ground without the slightest hint of worry. Just as his eyes were about to close, straight through the dimming horizontal slits that separated the darkness and the outer world, he saw Caim descending upon him.
“Tell me about your new power!!”
V – A Long-Awaited Gift
Their grandfather watched them as they threw punches, tackled each other, and rolled around the dirt, grass and rocks. The two boys had spent their entire lives living out here at the Edge. He remembered them as children, stubborn as rocks, yet free as birds. They always had a great love of life and the adventures that came with it. He could hear them yelling at one another faintly behind his thoughts.
I have done all I can for them. From now, it is up to them. Hopefully … And his eyes looked up to the sky, they can succeed where I have failed. He looked to see Caim stick his tongue out at Storm, and he smiled sadly. Despite their childish behavior and despite conditions in which most would have fled for their lives, they had managed to surpass him and all the life threatening challenges he put them through. He wondered if it could have been luck. Luck, he thought. Such a thing cannot exist. Not in this cruel world. He finally sighed. Whatever it was, they had bested him, and this marked the completion of the final test of their training.
“It’s time,” he said quietly. He could suddenly hear whispering from Caim and Storm’s direction.
“I told you … old people talk to themselves,” said Storm in Caim’s ear.
“What was that?” asked Ronin, with a sharp flicker of his eyes.
“Nothing,” said Storm quickly, wiping a trickle of sweat from his forehead.
“Grandpa, I didn’t know old people talk to themselves,” said Caim.
Storm’s slowly turned his head to stare at Caim.
“For the last time … I am not old!” roared their grandfather. He launched after Caim in pursuit and Storm lounged idly as he watched Ronin chase Caim around the rocks, up the trees, and through the air.
Closing his eyes, Storm thought back to Ronin’s Inner Depths. He felt as if he was still there, and the outside commotion grew silent. Floating chunks of blackened rock sifted across a tempest sky littered with falling meteors. The only creatures were pure white crows and enormous titans that rose up from bubbling lava. The whole time he was within the old man’s world, it felt like strife and despair were ripping at his very being. The glowing moon of broken crystal was equally confusing; full, yet cracked down the middle, as if it had been pierced by a colossal spear of the Gods. Had the moon always been broken? Storm felt a shiver go down his spine. If Inner Depths was a reflection of your past, emotions, and fears, then why was their grandfather’s world so full of sorrow and agony?
Storm looked at Ronin chasing Caim and stared closely at the tattoo’s that covered the left side of his body. The symbols were unlike anything he had ever seen anywhere, and even when he had asked, the old man never spoke once about them. I wonder what they mean, thought Storm. He stared at the circular tattoo on Ronin’s chest that looked of a white and black crow circling one another. The white crow sat above with wings outstretched, staring down at the black crow whom looked the same, yet gazing up.
For a second, Storm unwillingly remembered the first time he entered his own Inner Depths, so many rings before. He didn’t understand why, but his own world was vast and filled with nothing but endless black valleys, and a lone withered tree that stood before a deep, ominous cave. Upon the tree were a few white leaves that diminished in number the more he saw it, and protruding from its grey trunk was a long black spear, engraved with curved lines. The skies were dark and always raining in his world, blanketing the ground in a thick layer of water and ice. The only light came from two deathly moons that seemed to glare down on him, one glowing of emerald and the other of crimson. They reminded him of evil eyes in the sky, always gazing, watching over him. They had left him with nothing but nightmares. Ever since, he wondered if he had no feelings or maybe that some part of him was missing. Caim had told him that his own Inner Depths was filled with food, huge creatures and luscious green forests that grew on floating islands. It sounded just like their home of Soria.
“Old man!” called Storm abruptly, interrupting his pursuit of Caim. “You told us that each of our worlds within reflected our inner personality, emotions and experiences… .”
Their grandfather came to a stop, his expression changing, as if he knew what Storm was going to ask. “You’re wondering why my world is … how it is, I imagine.” His voice had changed once again, revealing to Storm that he had touched onto something hidden.
What happened to you? Storm wanted to ask, but couldn’t.
Storm nodded, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t often they learned secrets of their grandfather. In fact, they had very little idea of what he had done before he had found them that day, so many cycles before. Storm’s teeth clenched as the thought passed.
Behind them, Caim had drawn his Fallblade and was pointing it towards the ground where a tiny spider looked up his glistening blade.
“It just seemed so …” began Storm. He knew what he wanted to say. What he had felt every time he was there, yet he couldn’t bring himself to confront the old man. He suddenly wished he hadn’t brought it up.
Ronin placed his hands on his hips and started laughing. “When you’re as strong as I am, you have the ability to make the world look and feel however you want!”
“DIE, SPIDER!” screamed Caim, slashing his sword towards the ground. The spider crawled leisurely into the bushes.
“I see,” said Storm. He couldn’t tell if his grandfather was joking or not, but for some reason he couldn’t help but feel like he was hiding something from them. He didn’t push anymore.
Caim sheathed his sword. “Spider vanquished,” he said, running his thumb across his lips in triumph.
Caim turned to face their grandfather suddenly. “Grandpa, if we were able to defeat you, then are we the strongest in the whole world?”
As usual, he was never keen to the current conversation, yet Storm looked up curiously. Strangely enough, this was a question he had not thought to ask before. The strongest in their world. His imagination began to race. That would be boring if we were, he thought.
Ronin walked toward a great boulder and sat upon it. For a long while he said nothing. And then h
e started laughing, hard. Caim and Storm’s eyes followed him carefully, wondering what his answer would be.
“The strongest in our world, ka …” said Ronin, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “You boys are grass before the great tree if you compare yourselves to the strongest of our world.”
Caim inhaled in awe while Storm narrowed his eyes.
“Who is it?” asked Storm.
“More like what is it,” answered Ronin. He looked up to the skies and spoke. “There is one … known as the Dragon King.” Caim stared up into the sky imagining what kind of incredible swordsman this Dragon King could be. Storm shuddered. A strange unseen magic seemed to inhabit their space, as if just mentioning the name summoned a celestial presence.
“Dragon King,” said Caim finally. “Who is he?” Storm could tell that this was one of the rare moments in which Caim’s attention had been completely and fully grasped.
Ronin grinned. “He is a legend among legends, Caim. The greatest savior of our world, the Guardian of Life. No one knows who or what it is. Some believe he rides upon the wings of Night and Day, always watching us—protecting us.”
“That’s the coolest thing ever …” said Caim, in awe. Storm sat silently, skeptical of the words. Protecting us from what? Storm thought. There’s nothing in the forest stronger than the old man.
Ronin’s met Caim’s gaze. “Yet there are others who believe something different… . They believe that the Dragon King is not always one and the same. That it is not a single everlasting entity. They believe that there has been more than one Dragon King, and that in times of chaos a new Dragon King is born among us … to rise into the dark as the light, to protect that which we have sworn to protect … to become the true hero of our world.”
“He rides upon the backs of Night and Day?” questioned Caim.
“And what have we sworn to protect?” asked Storm, positive that he had never sworn anything of the sort.
Ronin looked hard at Storm before answering. “Her,” he said, pointing up. Storm felt a shiver run down his back. He wasn’t sure if Ronin was telling the truth or not, or what he meant by that. He knew that legend told of the Goddess of Life, living above their world. He could never bring himself to believe that which he hadn’t seen.
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Caim, standing up. “He rides upon the backs of Night and Day!? At the same time!?”
Storm rolled his eyes, “It’s clearly a myth, Caim.”
“You’re clearly a myth,” Caim shot back.
Ronin interrupted their coming battle. “They say that after the world’s creation, the two Moons shed tears and those tears became the first of the Dragons. But upon their birth into this world, they craved and loved only one thing.” He looked upwards. “The sky … and so they soared to the edges of our world, and have flown over us ever since … as Night and Day.”
“I never believed that story from the first time you told it,” said Storm. “And I don’t believe in some fairy tale hero that rides on their backs either. Goddesses, Gods, Dragon Kings, Heroes … I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Ronin took a breath. “You know they also say that our race descended from the grandchildren of Night and Day.”
Descended from … Dragons? Storm thought. He’d heard it before. That’s ridiculous. He gazed down at his wrists, scanning the hollow that curved around them. But then again, it was weird that Dragons had the same eyes as they did. And also…he reached up and touched the tiny horns growing on the tips of his ears. I don’t believe it.
“How come we don’t have wings then?” asked Storm, “If we are as you say, you know, descended from dragons and all.”
Ronin smiled, “If you become strong enough, you will have wings.” Storm clenched his teeth. He never knew if his old man was speaking the truth or talking of some other fairy tale.
“Oi … grandpa,” Caim said. “Could I become the Dragon King?”
“It’s just a myth, Caim. But you know, they say there is some remnant of truth to myths. Maybe one day you will prove to the world that believing in something that doesn’t exist, can make it exist.”
“Really?” Caim beamed.
“Yeah, right,” smirked Storm.
“However, there is something else that might answer your original question. Something that is not a myth or a fairy tale, since we know how Storm loves them so much.” Caim and Storm both looked up. Ronin didn’t speak.
“Well, aren’t you going to say –“
“A tournament,” Ronin said, “A World Tournament.”
“What, on Soria!?” asked Storm.
“It is known as the Soldier Games,” said Ronin, “and it is an event that all of Soria gathers to watch. The strongest of our world … only there will you find the strongest warriors, and the answer to your question.”
“You’ve never talked about it before,” said Storm.
“And for good reason!” said Ronin. “I knew the minute you two heard of it you’d run off and try to enter.”
“Well, when’s it happening?” Storm asked. “When’s the next Soldier Games?”
Ronin’s eyes looked to the two moons; they sat in the sky nearly a finger’s length apart. They would soon eclipse one another.
“The Soldier Games,” he began, “happen once every ten cycles, and always seven days before the Neo Solar Eclipse.” He pointed to the moons. “The eclipsing of the Sun by the eclipsed moons. You boys know it well. And the last Soldier Games was … well, almost ten cycles ago.”
“Our birthday!” cried Caim.
Storm’s eyes took to the sky. “Then the next one’s soon!”
“Couple of days at most,” said Ronin.
“I’m going to eat so much food!” said Caim, having completely lost track of the current conversation.
“We should go and fight!” said Storm.
“Fight where?” asked Caim.
“You’ll die,” Ronin said.
“Ahhh!! Die!? Storm, you trying to kill me or something!?” Caim scowled at Storm.
Storm felt his anger growing inside him like a flame. Why couldn’t he go? Had he not just defeated the old man after cycles of training? Was he not strong enough to compete with the best of the best?
“You can’t tell me what to do,” said Storm darkly. He found something within that he knew would get back at the old man. “You’re not even my real grandfather.”
Caim glanced nervously to his brother.
Despite his silence and the fire in his eyes, Storm held his glare. And if only for a moment, Storm thought he felt the old man’s energy shift slightly.
“That’s right,” said Storm, grasping the moment. “You heard me.”
“The Soldier Games isn’t for children,” said Ronin. “You’ll die if you enter—most do. In fact, there hasn’t even been a Risian winner of the Games in a long time, and the Falians have never won. The trials are dark and daunting in ways you can never expect. They will rip the fear out of your deepest unconscious and manifest it until you wish that you had never laid hands upon a sword, until you wish you’d never been born. But it won’t even end there—not until it has broken your mind in every way but one.”
Caim suddenly stood. “Grandpa … have you ever fought in the Games?”
Ronin was silent for a long while, his gaze locked with Storm’s fierce green eyes. And then, just like that, he turned away and the pressure from him diminished. Storm let out a deep breath, and felt good about not backing away from the old man’s glare.
“Almost, once …” he began. “But no, never. I’ve never entered the Soldier Games.”
Silence consumed the three of them for many long minutes. Caim’s eyes took to the top of the trees as Ronin walked towards the Edge, staring out at the nearly faded Sun. And then finally, as if the silence had become like glass, he broke it.
“If you are going…” he began, and Storm’s eyes lit up. “If you insist on going—and I mean to watch the Games, not participate in them—I’ll be needing you to bring me a few things back from Trestles.”
“Really?” Storm said. “So it’s really real? There’s really a World Tournament?”
“If you want to find the strongest of our world,” Ronin said, “then you should go and see if it’s real for yourself. Maybe you’ll learn something … about wings and heroes.”
Slowly but surely, the fading Sun sunk beyond the horizon; an inky purple seemed to drip from the edges of the sky, casting the dark wings of Night over the lands of Soria.
Storm could feel his heartbeat accelerating in his chest. What was this feeling that was racing through him? He suddenly stood up and spoke in his truest voice. “I’m going, then.”
Without even the slightest hesitation Caim said, “Me too. I need to be stronger. Stronger than anything if I’m going to become the Dragon King.”
Storm smirked. “It’s just a myth, Caim.” But his brother didn’t hear him, or rather, wasn’t listening.
Storm walked over towards his katana, still pierced into the ground before the Edge. Reaching down to grasp its hilt, he felt a strange sensation upon pulling it from the ground, as if it were acceptance of a new path, a new fate. Wings and heroes, ka … I’m no fool to believe in such stories for children.
Storm sheathed his katana to his side. “Trestles, huh?” he asked. “That’s the Capital of Falia, isn’t it?”
Ronin didn’t turn around. He stared out over the darkening skies. “You always were one to make up your mind in a single moment.”
“You said it’s in a couple days, right?” said Storm. “I want to see if this is truly real … and I know you want wine from the town, so this had better not be some elaborate trick to get us to find some mystical non-existent tournament because you were too lazy to get your own drink.” He watched as the old man turned to face him, his long black cloak billowing out behind him.
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