The Rising Sun: Episode 1

by J Hawk

  you will find all powers. Rebelling against what happens in life and trying to overthrow things that cannot be changed will only weaken you from within.”

  “What does this have to do with me?” asked Ion, in a rougher tone than he had intended.

  Jedius laughed softly, shaking his head. “Everything.” He looked at Ion, his expression softening. “What you told me two days ago … I do not presume to understand what you had faced. But I have faced life too, Ion.” Jedius’s tone turned darker. “The man responsible for what happened to you, the one in that poster … He is a figment of the ever enduring evil that lives in our world. We have all faced it … the dark side of life. And we will continue to. Never tire from the demons of this world. Because to face it is what we are here for. “

  Ion felt his insides clench in anger, as he remembered everything. Everything he had tried to forget. He tried to look away from the man’s tranquil eyes, but he realised that Jedius’s gaze was a little too understanding…

  He patted Ion on the back and cocked his head, “Let’s go for a walk.”

  __________

  They strolled down the dense wilderness, with Ion drinking in the beauty of the greenery around. Scenic and mesmerizing. Of all the planets he’d been to, he had to admit that this was the singularly finest … and the most entrancing of them all. The fragrance of the jungle caught within his lungs as he breathed in slow, rhythmic inhalations. Something within him seemed aligned with the natural beauty around him. Jedius trotted along his right with his hands held behind. The calm glow was still on his face. Ion walked on in equal silence, letting his gaze wander over around them.

  Jedius stopped for the first time and turned to Ion. “Can I ask a favour of you, Ion?”

  Ion faced him, feeling slightly curious. “Of course.”

  Jedius bent down and plucked a blade of grass from where they were standing, and held it out in his outstretched palm. “Can you explain this?”

  A flame sparked to life over his palm, devouring the grass blade in seconds, and leaving a trail of charred remains.

  Ion held his sparkling green eyes for a long moment, wondering what this had to do with anything.

  “You used your mystical powers.” he answered finally.

  “No, Ion.” Jedius shook his head. “You know what I mean. Can you scientically explain it?”

  “Scientifically?” Ion had never heard such a question related to him before. He stared.

  “Let me re-phrase,” said Jedius. “Where do our powers, these mystical powers that we have … where do they come from?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I would say it matters more than anything.” Jedius clenched his fist with the charred remains of the blade. “Tell me, Ion. How did you find your powers?”

  Ion frowned, contemplating the question for a moment. His thoughts flashed back to when he was younger. When he had treaded upon these unseen powers. At a very early age itself, Ion felt almost as though there was a certain, strange sensation that came with his every thought … a strange power. Waiting to be tapped into. He had the feeling as though his mind, his being itself, contained a reservoir hidden within, waiting to be channeled into the outer world. And when he did manage to, when he did manage to direct and channel this potency within him, strange things, very strange things, unleashed themselves through him: he could make things move without touching them. He could move quicker than any normal child his age. And he came to accomplish feats of strength even greater than adults could.

  But why? And how?

  For some reason, the two questions had always eluded him. He simply did these things. Something from inside of him seemed to flow out, to make these supernatural feats occur. But why and how … he never found out. He knew he was different. He was not like the rest. But the reason was one he had accepted to be beyond his reach.

  He looked up at Jedius. “I don’t know, and I never bothered finding out. So where do these powers that we have come from? Where did I find them?”

  “You found them the very same way we all did,” answered Jedius. “You found them within. And that is also the reason it’s the hardest to find. Because only a few gifted ones among men can actually know the treasure within.” He turned and walked slowly down the green expanse, surrounded by a canopy of wild trees. “Let me now complete your vision of the mystic mind.”

  He took a quick breath and went on.

  “The secret to our powers is simple, Ion. Our thoughts bear energy. And we can accomplish feats by releasing the energy borne in our thoughts into the outer world. And for this, the trick is the same as for all feats: concentration. Focus. Thoughts, like rays of sunlight, can unleash blazes if focused. They are pure rays of light, and the ones who can focus them can use them to do anything … because they’re infinite. Our mind is infinite in its potential. All we need to harness the potential is believe in it, and place ourselves to focus.”

  He reached for the sword slung behind him and slid the blade off the sheath.

  Ion watched as he held it out before him. A crisp, orange flare emitted from the silver of the blade, and then it was shining in bright orange. Wisps of a steam-ish vapour escaped from the blade into the air around it. It was a sight Ion had seen every day for almost his entire life now: a sight he had seen with his own blade.

  Jedius twirled the ignited sword around gracefully. “Do you know what the difference is between this sword, and all others? Between the sword of a mystic and other normal ones?”

  Ion shook his head. “What is it?”

  Jedius doused the blade and lowering it before Ion. It was the very same build as all mystics’ swords: long and thin, resembling the blade of grass he had just plucked. Unlike Ion’s sword, which was a straight edged, Jedius’s was a curved blade at the front, giving it a more elegant, artistic pose.

  “There is a gross and a subtle difference.” he explained, keeping the blade held before Ion. “The gross one is this: the material making a mystic’s sword is -”

  “Kostron.” finished Ion, who had heard this from the person who had gotten him his sword. “It’s the most exquisite, and most deadly substance in existence, and is also as hard to find.”

  Jedius lowered the sword with a nod. “Indeed.” He held it up, letting his eyes run over the long, slender weapon from its blade to the bottom of is hilt. “The entire sword, including the hilt, is imbibed with Kostron, which makes it next to indestructible. The sword does not erode, tarnish, wear, or fall to the normal afflictions of the mortal world … because it’s beyond mortal. It’s imbibed, in every cell, with a substance known only to mystics. And the mystic sword is the single most powerful, and most primally dangerous weapon there is, and ever will be. Contrary to non mystics’ ignorance, to whom Sparklers and guns are seen as more efficient, the weapon of true power is the one that appears harder to wield.”

  Ion surveyed the shining grandeur of the Elfling’s sword. It was majestic, seeming to hold a silent, ancient depth within it. The shining blade reflected Jedius’s green eyes as he gazed down upon it, holding it slightly tilted to face Ion.

  “The sword,” he went on, looking up at Ion. “is not crafted by hand, or by any instrument known for crafting ordinary weapons. As I said, the mystic’s sword is the most powerful weapon. And it’s method of making is also the most unique one in existence. It is made only by mystics, but not by hand … but by mind. A mystic moulds his sword using the powers lying in his own mind. His mystical powers flow into the sword to craft it. And that is the very core of the connection between the mystic and the sword. When the mystic crafts the sword, he forges a bond between the sword, a bond that connects his mystical powers with the sword. And this connection is between mind and metal. When danger arises, the mystic sets his sword’s blade ablaze in a single thought.”

  Ion nodded, experiencing it for himself: the blade of the sword shared a connection with him beyond anything he’d known. The sword’s blade responded to his mind at the most
feeble touch, igniting at the flick of a command when he needed it to, and dousing itself just as swiftly. When danger arose and he needed it to, the blade of the sword would light itself up at the brush of his will. The blade seemed to reflect the state of his mind…

  It was a mirror of the sword of his own mind. Connection between mind and metal…

  “Yes.” he agreed.

  “And when ignited,” said Jedius, looking at his sword. “The blade of the mystic has the capacity to almost cut through anything. With the greatest of ease. The blazing sword has the ability to slice right through even the toughest of iron as easily as it would butter.”

  He smiled at Ion as he slid the sword back into his sheath. “The reason I tell you all of this, is because to delve deeper into this art, this gift we’ve been given, we need to fully understand it. Every bit of it. Only then can we begin to unleash all that it has to offer to us.”

  Ion looked past the canopy of trees, at the radiant lights shimmering atop the horizon.

  “So…” he said finally, looking at Jedius. “you mean to say that we’re not actually different? Us, mystics?”

  Jedius shook his head. “Not at all. We’re all gifted with the same power: the mind. But some of us merely learn to utilise it to its fullest extent, and others don’t. Mystics are men, but not ordinary men. They climb to a level of mind power that is meant to be obtained only at the peak of a man’s elevation. In other words, we have tapped into a hidden store of powers that slumbers in the rest of men, unused. We are simply more aware of our own inner powers than they are.”

  “So you’re saying everyone’s got these powers?” asked Ion. “mystical powers … or powers of mind, as you say?”

  “Yes, but not everyone is able to find them.” Jedius gazed into the horizon as he spoke. “The mind is a very powerful instrument if used well. But using it well is the part that eludes most of mankind. The very, very rare segment that manages to do so-”

  “-is condemned and hunted down by the rest of them.” finished Ion angrily.

  Jedius laughed. He shook his head at Ion and said, “Do not focus on the negative. Guide your focus away from negativity always, Ion. Keep your focus on the store of infinite positivity lying within, Keep your mind’s eye on the trove of unbound wonders inside… and you shall bring about wonders outside of you as well.”

  Silence fell between them shortly, while Jedius continued to gaze into the horizon. After a while, he suddenly said, “They have ever been in conflict.”

  “Who?” asked Ion.

  “The two of them. The two titanic forces that control our world, and define it.” Jedius slowly turned and looked at Ion. “Mankind is only a small figment of a whole larger picture, a picture that eludes the capture of most normal people. They cannot truly see it. That our world has been subjugated to the will of the two forces. Everything in this realm is shaped by the balance struck by the two of them … They are the two sides of the coin that forms our universe. Positive and negative. Light and dark. Night and day.” He paused and shook his head. “But we mystics understand that they are not just dull, inanimate forces. They are living things. Beings that exist and breathe. And their life forces flows through us in our every thought. We call them as Elderon and Mezmeron. Or, in simpler terms … Harmony and Anarchy. And together, they divide our entire world, and sustain it. Everything belongs to one of them, one of the two supreme beings … including men themselves.”

  Elderon and Mezmeron … Harmony and Anarchy. Ion listened to him closely, feeling as though he was being drawn into a whole new realm.

  Jedius sighed, and Ion sensed something heavy within those tranquil green eyes.

  “Eight millennia ago, before the tides of time turned harsh and unyielding, our world had been sealed in an age of peace. An age like no other.” He slowly raised his hands and blew the ashes of the blade of grass, letting them scatter in air around and drift to the ground pleasantly. “As it was called … the age of Elderon. An ancient, noble empire stood watch over our spectrum, preserving the peace and justice, and harnessing it. It was known as the empire of Sirengard.

  “An ancient empire forged by the ideals of justice and harmony, Sirengard was supported by an order of mystics who had come together to devote their lives to the good of the world. They were known as the brotherhood of Nyon. And among their ranks were the most powerful of mystic minds. Together, the Nyon and the empire carved a haven out of the spectrum, allowing peace and prosperity to flow.”

  He paused for a second, his gaze drifting to the horizon again. When he slowly turned back to Ion and went on, there was a sombre heaviness in his voice. “Elderon and Mezmeron. Good and evil … The two forces have their claim on all of us, Ion. Even mystics. Even among us, there are those that side with the light. And those … that side with the dark.

  “Eight thousand years ago, when the empire reached the height of its prosperity, and when the Nyon were at the height of their power … a rival group of mystics arose to oppose them. A rival group of satanic mystics, who opposed everything the empire stood for. They called themselves the Order of Xeni, and they were led by a madman whose name survives upto this day. Redgarn.

  “Together, Redgarn and the Xeni waged war against the rule of Sirengard. A war they fought with the aid of greatly dark forces: Using his knowledge of the dark side of mystic arts, Redgarn could draw powers from the force of Mezmeron himself. And with it, with the force of Mezmeron, he had created an army … an army of twisted, horrific evil. And with the help of this evil army, the Xeni thwarted the noble rule of Sirengard and seized control over the entire spectrum. Enslaving all in it.

  “The Xeni had failed to completely erase the goodness of the empire Sirengard: a fragment of the age of Elderon survived. The brotherhood of Nyon. The Nyon worked in the shadows, waging a war against the evil empire, and trying to free the world again. With the fall of Sirengard, the Nyon worked in complete secrecy. As the Xeni mustered the power of Mezmeron to weave their evil army, the Nyon called upon the aid of Elderon to form theirs … And though they eventually overthrew Redgarn and the Xeni, their role in doing so wasn’t known to the rest of the spectrum. Though they freed the world from the Xeni, it was no victory to be rejoiced in: the spectrum was left torn and in devastation after the reign of the evil Xeni. And the people had grown to harbour a deep seated hatred against the ones who had exerted this pain to them: mystics. The states of the spectrum together decided to hunt down all mystics to ensure that such tyranny never happened again. And the spectrum’s fury, over the greatest loss the world had sustained … endures upto this day.”

  His words ended in a slightly mournful silence.

  “And what about the brotherhood of Nyon?” asked Ion.

  Jedius drew his gaze off the horizon, and shrugged his shoulders. “No one heard of them since. But it is unlikely that they survived the onslaught that the Naxim purged the spectrum with after Redgarn’s fall, aiming to hunt down and destroy all mystics.”

  Silence fell between them shortly, as Jedius stood there, his cloak rippling in the feeble blow of the wind.

  Jedius drew his sword and let his eyes run the length of the blade.

  “We are not here without purpose, Ion. Everything in this world is created by purpose. Everything is shaped by purpose, defined by purpose. Our existence is no accident. There are no accidents in our world. Everything comes with a reason. And all suffering too comes only with a reason.” He lowered the sword and brought his startlingly green eyes over Ion again. “It is suffering that takes us closer to our purpose. We bear with the pain and the suffering to do what we must. To fulfill our purpose … and when we do,” His cloak billowing in the wind, he turned and looked up at the sky “we return to our source.”

  “Our source?”

  Still gazing up at the cloudy skies, Jedius slowly nodded.

  “When you gaze upon the majesty of our world,” he asked softly. “what do you see, Ion?”

  He spread his hands, ge
sturing to the greenery around him.

  “When you witness the flawlessness in creation, from the precision of the sunrise and sunset, to the force that holds every planet in its place, to the countless forces of wonders that keep this universe together, what do you see?”

  Ion shrugged.

  Jedius smiled, his brilliant green eyes sparkling. “I see perfection. I see Precision. I see alignment. I see harmony.”

  He drew his gaze above, looking upto the heavens. “And it is in the end this great cosmic harmony that has created everything.” he said softly. “Harmony is the reason we are here, Ion. Harmony is our creator, our purpose and our destiny … That is what we are. And when we realise it, when we accept it, and when we go on to fulfill life’s purpose for us,” He slowly lowered his gaze over Ion. “we merge with the overruling power of harmony.”

  Ion gazed across the forest at the horizon. He hardly noticed the note of peace that had found him as he listened…

  “When a mystic fulfills his duty here,” said Jedius. “he sheds this bodily existence,and his consciousness merges with the supreme consciousness.” He gave a gentle sigh. “But until then, we will bear with this world, bear with whatever we must face in our journey through this world … and do what we are meant to do.”