Divine Madness

by Harmon Cooper

  Rather than focus on how cold I felt, or the fire I was trying to mentally keep alive, I listened for any sounds that would indicate my opponent was approaching.

  A grunt reached my ears and I knew he had arrived.

  I took my blindfold off, bringing my fists to the ready.

  The lion man wasn’t in front of me.

  Pivoting, I narrowly avoided his first attack, the man coming from behind with a wicked chop.

  He lunged for me again.

  This time I blocked his chop by crossing my arms in front of my body, following up with a quick jab to his side that sent the man to the ground, kicking up dust.

  I could feel that my Fist of Force power was activated, not only evident in the energy radiating around my knuckles, but also in the way the lion man was acting as he slowly got back to his feet.

  While he was masked, I could tell that the man was wincing, that my hit had definitely done some damage.

  Seeing this as an opportunity, I advanced on him, hoping to deliver another blow that would end this match quickly, before his technical skill overcame my sheer power.

  He jumped just in time, the bottom of his knee connecting with my chin and sending me in an arc straight to my back.

  My legs rolled over my head and I used this to roll back to my feet.

  “Come on,” I said, suddenly envisioning the man as Champa. “Come on…”

  I could have won that match, and while it was politically smarter for me to lose, it still bothered the hell out of me. I was glad that Champa had left us alone after our little wrestling match, but I had a feeling he would be around again at some point.

  The masked man came forward, morphing into a lion.

  I stumbled backward and tripped over the extended leg of another lion man. The second lion man wore armor and was thinner than his counterpart. He tackled me, clamping his legs around my waist as he started delivering blows to my face.

  I managed to buck him off, only to be tackled by the first lion, the beast tearing his claws down my back, the pain causing me to cry out.

  I managed to turn and bring my fist forward, the lion clamping down onto it with his jaw, shaking his head as his teeth dug into the flesh of my knuckles.

  Everything flashed red.

  But as it did so I managed to bring my other hand back and connect with the side of the lion’s face with a chop, sending the creature to the side just as the other man came toward me again.

  The second lion man kicked me so hard in the chin that I saw fireworks, everything going black.

  I barely remembered hitting the ground, only that it was a moment later that I blinked my eyes open to see both men standing there, ready to engage.

  “Fuck it,” I said as I pressed myself back to my feet, my hand all but useless, blood strewn across my white robes. I felt the sting on my back as I stood, my lungs barely able to fill, my vision blurring again.

  Both men came forward and as they did, time stopped.

  I took a step forward and fell to my knee.

  I picked myself back up and continued toward my frozen opponents.

  Bringing my hand back, I sunk my fist into the masked face of the man on my left, my original lion opponent. My momentum sent me stumbling forward, time kicking back into its normal pace as soon as I hit the ground, pain radiating through me.

  I tried to crawl away from them.

  But once they started delivering kick after kick, I knew it was over.

  I still tried to protect myself, and I even thought of tracing up the rune that allowed me to absorb blows, but I could barely get my good hand up, and the other one was a bloodied mess after being caught the mouth of a lion.

  A final punch to the back of my head put me down for the count.

  Everything swirled around me, the stars overhead whirling dervishes.

  I awoke with a gasp to find Dohna standing over me.

  “Don’t heal yourself,” she told me.

  “W-w-what?” I asked her.

  “Tonight is the night that you experience the pain. Tomorrow is the day I show you how to beat your opponents. Now come.”

  She started to walk away and stopped, waiting for me to catch up to her.

  I reached my hand out to her, my arm slapping against the ground.

  Dohna returned to my side. “You have to do this on your own, Nick, I can’t help you. Make your way to my home.” She took a few steps away from me. “You can do it.”

  I slowly rolled over, cringing in pain as I tried to pull myself forward using my elbows. My left leg was numb now, blood trickling out of my mouth, my right eye so puffy that I couldn’t see out of it.

  A walk that would have taken five minutes tops turned into a thirty-minute crawl, my white robes filthy by the time I reached her home.

  The pain seriously affected my sleep.

  I would wake up panting, only to find that I was lying on the warm floor of the living room, not able to make it all the way up the stairs, right where Dohna had left me.

  My blood had partially dried on the floor, creating almost a halo around my face as I switched to the other cheek.

  All I had to do was trace up Healing Hand, but I resisted, prepared to endure Dohna’s training even if it broke me.

  My breaths felt shallow, and my eye was so puffy now that it only let in a little bit of light.

  “Nick?”

  It wasn’t Saruul’s voice, nor was it the voice of her mother.

  I turned to my side, letting out a gasp as my eyes fell upon Dema.

  My dakini stood there with a worried look on her face, an aura of light illuminating her form.

  I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming or not; my good hand was under my body, tingling and numb, my other hand was so mangled that I knew I wouldn’t be able to pinch myself.

  “I’m… hurt…”

  “I can tell.”

  At points, Dema seemed inches away, but it also felt like she was standing on the other side of the room.

  It was truly maddening.

  I tried to sit up but eventually gave in, my cheek falling to the floor as I stared over at her. “I… I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Nick. You aren’t supposed to heal yourself, correct?”

  I nodded, and in doing so I started to cough, blood trickling down my lips. “Sorry.”

  “You will make it through the night,” she assured me. “Just focus on your breath.”

  Dema slowly lowered to the ground so that she now sat on her knees. She wore light gray as usual, her white hair braided at both sides of her head and pulled back into a bun.

  “Why…” I sucked in a deep breath, willing myself to speak clearly. Knowing that this moment would be important. “Why do you have to come now?”

  “You have been calling for me…”

  “Why now? Now… I can barely speak.”

  “Yet you continue to communicate. Nick, if you haven’t noticed already, I generally am only able to present myself to you when you are in distress. It is the easiest way for me to break through. While I am always watching over you, the confines of my own reality, and the constraints of yours here on the Plane of Existence, make it difficult for me to make myself visible. Perhaps one day I will be stronger, and I’ll be able to visit you more often.”

  “So… you come when I’m hurt?”

  “Oftentimes, yes, because it is a joint effort for me to come here. Most importantly, you have to be in the right mindset. This is crucial for me to visit, and it is only when you’re in the mindset that you are in right now, beaten down and barely alive, that your understanding of reality is muddled enough that you can actually see me. Please understand, I am always here.”

  She smiled at me, and as she did, her elven ears tilted back ever so slightly.

  “I have questions…”

  “I’m sure you do. What would you like to know?”

  “So any one of us could be the Golden One, right? Not just me.”

  “Comi
ng through the portal from your world to ours is what triggers the potential for you to become a Golden One. You are all Golden Ones. It is up to each of you individually to truly take the title and make something of it. I don’t believe anyone has mentioned this to you yet, but maybe you have put the pieces of this puzzle together.”

  “Which puzzle?” I asked her, my vision turning fuzzy again and then solidifying.

  “You have learned a lot recently, including that there were five Immortals. Thupten the Corrupted established the Kingdom of Lhasa; Misake the Whisperer established the Kingdom of Rinpunga; Ganbold the Strong established the Island Kingdom of Jonang; Padme Lung the Virtuous established the Kingdom of Paro; and Kenzo the Written established the Island Kingdom of Tsirang.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard those names several times now.”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that the Way of the Immortals was simply the name for the five paths that these five Immortals created?”

  “No, no one has mentioned that yet,” I said, feeling foolish for not putting these pieces together earlier. Five Immortals, five paths.

  It made total sense.

  “It is in the Book of the Immortals, and I’m sure that Lhandon has read it and that he knew it previously. This bit of information isn’t pertinent to what he has currently tasked himself with. Each of the Immortals had their different way, and some of the paths are more obscure than others. Another thing to take into consideration is this: just because one of the Immortals established a kingdom, this doesn’t mean that their path is the one that is currently practiced there.”

  She brought her hands down to her knees, her smile warming me some.

  “Take the Kingdom of Lhasa, for example. The Path of the Divine and the Path of Possession are what are mostly practiced here in Lhasa. The Path of the Divine was initially created by Padme Lung the Virtuous, and the Path of Possession was created by Ganbold the Strong. While the Kingdom of Lhasa was founded by Thupten, a different Immortal, Padme’s path has also crept in and taken hold of the population. I believe that will continue to spread, especially after Lhandon has finished his restructuring.”

  “So each Immortal had their own path…” I said, ignoring a throbbing pain spreading from my rib cage down to my groin.

  “Yes, Kenzo the Written created the Path of Cultivation, which focuses mostly on moving energy. It isn’t very popular here, but there are other places where it is practiced. It is quite subtle, beautiful, just like the script he devised. Misake the Whisperer created the Path of Sudden Enlightenment, which borrowed heavily from her ability to whisper things into existence. Of all the paths, this one is the most unknown because the information has been lost. Thupten the Corrupted is responsible for the Path of Divine Madness which, contrary to widespread belief, does not have to be started once you have reached a certain level on one of the other paths. It is a path truly made for those who have a corrupted sense of morality, but sometimes, it can lead to greater awakenings. As I mentioned previously, Ganbold the Strong is responsible for the Path of Possession, which is what Sona and those around her practice, including Evan, the man who came through the portal at the same time you did. How do you think he became such a good shot with his crossbow? Does your world even use those weapons?”

  “Some people use them to hunt, but I see your point.”

  “The Path of the Divine has the potential to fulfill most people’s expectations of the Way the Immortals, and lead to better rebirths. That’s not to say some of the other paths aren’t good, most notably the Path of Cultivation and the Path of Sudden Enlightenment, but the Path of the Divine is the middle road, which gives it the potential to do the most good.”

  “I have another question…”

  “Yes?”

  “Did any of the Immortals ever go back to my world? Were they trapped here forever?”

  “I don’t think that you will like the answer to that question,” she said softly.

  “I figured as much.”

  “But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t a way, it just may take more sacrifice than you are willing to make.”

  “Okay,” I said, my vision started to blur again. “No,” I told myself, trying to keep my energy levels up. I focused on my breath, doing everything I could to stop myself from passing back out. “Is someone from the Underworld trying to get me?” I asked Dema once the ability to speak came to me again.

  “I believe so, yes. The forces trying to get you are not from the Overworld, and that is the only other place they can be from. I can say that it was forces from the Overworld that brought you and your friends here. But that is all I can say for now. And you should also know that while I am in support of you, Nick, there are other dakinis in support of your friends.”

  “Tom is alive?” I asked, feeling my heart flutter.

  “If he is alive, there is someone supporting him. We aren’t given much power to intervene, and I may have stepped outside the boundaries given to me already, but I am a firm believer that what you are doing has the best potential for everyone in this world. But you must understand that there are other Golden Ones, the people you came with, and any of them could easily overtake you, including Evan, which would wreak havoc on this world.”

  “So it’s a competition between my friends and me?”

  “Not necessarily a competition, but once your friends better understand what is happening, if they are ever coherent enough,” she said, clearly referring to Bobby, “it could become that way. This is just something to keep in mind.”

  She offered me a fond smile, a twinkle behind her eyes.

  “It is time that I go, Nick, but before I do, I want to teach you a new rune that may help you. It is called Bah-Mo. As you might have already noticed, I’m rarely able to interact with things that aren’t from my world or the Underworld. I am able to interact with you, but that is because I am your dakini.”

  “Okay,” I told her, trying to understand what she was getting at.

  “Because of this, I’m going to have to burn the rune into your skin. You will be able to heal up tomorrow, but before you do, please copy this rune down and practice.”

  Rather than stand, Dema floated up, still in a seated position. She moved closer to me and lowered back to the stone floor.

  “This will hurt, but it should help you going forward,” she said, her fingertip starting to burn white with light. “Good luck, Nick.”

  Chapter Fifteen: Fight like a Snow Lion

  I blinked my eyes open to find Saruul crouched before me, her ears alert.

  “Hey…” I told her as I tried to roll to my side, failing miserably. It felt like every bone in my body had been broken, the pain excruciating.

  “What happened to you?” she asked as she stared down at my arm.

  “Ass kicked…” I told her.

  “No, this rune.”

  Saruul’s mother came from the kitchen to see what her daughter was talking about. I could tell that Saruul was upset with her mother, but at the same time, the look on her face indicated that she knew that this was par for the course, just another component of the training.

  “Did one of your combatants leave this on you?” Dohna asked carefully. Rather than crouching next to her daughter she simply placed her hand on her daughter’s head, Saruul looking up at her.

  “Can he heal himself yet?” she asked, her throat quivering.

  “No, not yet…” I told the two.

  “Sure, heal yourself, Nick,” Dohna said.

  “No, not yet,” I told them again as I started to move my head, glancing down at the rune Dema had burned into my arm. “Help me up.”

  Saruul came to my side and gently guided me to a seated position with my back against the wall, the lioness trying not to show concern on her face when she took in just how dirty and cut up I was.

  Now that I was in a better position, I was able to actually see the rune that Dema had branded me with.

  I recognized the character for ‘Mo,’ which sort of lo
oked like a stick figure of a contortionist bending to the side with their legs spread wide, holding up a tray over their head.

  Above the character was what I assumed was ‘Bah,’ which was simply a straight line with a circle above it.

  “Nick, you need to heal up,” Saruul said, bringing my arm in front of my face so I could see my good hand, which was still numb because of sleeping on it.

  I nodded, and after mobility returned to my fingers, I moved my hand away from her, back down to my side. I ran my finger along the stone floor until I came to my own blood. I looked for a clean spot, and after confirming what the rune looked like, I traced it on the floor using my own blood as ink.

  From there I cast Healing Hand, and as soon as I did I felt movement inside my body.

  I looked at my mangled fist to see the wound stitch back up, dexterity returning to my fingers. As I continued to heal myself, I noticed my bones crack back together and my organs repair themselves, which gave me a nauseated feeling. The last thing to go was the rune that had been burnt into my flesh.

  It faded slowly until it was gone.

  “I have to remember this rune,” I told them. “My dakini came to me last night and taught it to me.”

  “Your dakini came here?” Dohna asked, bringing her hand to her mouth.

  I nodded. “It’s easier for her to come when I’m in distress. But I think you would know that, somehow…”

  Saruul’s mother shook her head. “No, I merely wanted you to experience the pain of injury, which is part of the training I have devised for you. I had no intention of invoking your guardian spirit…”

  “It’s fine,” I told her, waving her concern away. “I’ve been wanting to meet Dema for some time now. I need to see what this rune does.”

  “Not in the house, you don’t.” Dohna motioned toward the back door.

  “You should change your clothing,” Saruul said, her tone echoing her mother’s. “You’re practically wearing rags at this point.”

  “Let me just see what it does first.” I pressed myself off the ground, ignoring the splotchy puddle of blood I’d left on the floor.