The Son of Nepal

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The Son of Nepal Page 8

by J.J Sylvester

The man beckoned the others, and they came after they saw he was safe. He told them to leave, and each prisoner ran out of the village as fast as their remaining strength allowed them.

  The man patted Johannan on the back, “Son, I don’t know what you have done here, but I honour you. You have saved us. I will see my mother, my son, and my wife again.”

  The man hugged him. Johannan feared he was never going to see Mama and Ayushi again, that this place would be the last place he would be. The man’s hug reminded him of the safe embrace of Mama’s arms, and he cried.

  The man held him tighter. “Before you came, I saw four of my fellow prisoners die in that cage. We would have shared the same fate if their men had never caught you.” The prisoner released his embrace to hold onto Johannan’s shoulders. “I will tell everyone at home of your deeds here, and you will be a hero to us.”

  He slowly nodded, letting go of Johannan’s shoulders. “Goodbye, my young friend, and thank you.” He followed the others ahead of him.

  Johannan got up to his feet, recovered his water skins, and made his way to the exit. He saw a woman reaching for her child, crying in the mist. The child used whatever strength left to crawl towards her mother. Johannan grabbed his head; it was a sight too much to bear. He ran over, picked the little girl up, and handed her to her mother. The woman screamed, and blood escaped from her mouth as she snatched her child from Johannan. He bowed his head in a shame he believed he’d never had to feel. He noticed the sores began to scab and fall off the woman and her child. Their withering flesh filled out like an empty water skin being topped up with water.

  The woman hadn’t yet noticed that she was recovering. She spat blood at the ground in front of him, “Leave us—haven’t you done enough, evil sorcerer?”

  The word “evil” had bitten into Johannan’s soul. He felt the nasty grip of guilt and shame wrapping around his body, making it slightly harder to breathe. He left the woman to make his way down the mountain.

  CHAPTER 21

  The Everplanes

  After a long time staggering with his head facing the ground, Johannan sat on a rock. He started to feel hate, guilt, and shame towards himself, and he began to weep.

  The woman’s voice resounded within the walls of his soul. Leave us—haven’t you done enough, evil sorcerer

  I’m not the evil one! You are!

  A voice of defence and accusation surfaced within him. You were watching when your guards beat the prisoners and left them in the cold. When your children stoned them, you watched and said nothing. When they were hungry, you gave them rotting leftovers that even the dogs would refuse. How am I the evil one? How can you call me evil, not seeing what you were doing?

  The Soburin’s voice echoed within him. “Be at peace, Johannan, Son of Nepal. Stand to your feet.” Johannan stood up, his head still facing the ground. “I shall return to the heavens and lead you to the Yarlung Tsangpo River where we will meet again.”

  Johannan nodded, “Yes, Master. Please lead the way.”

  “The journey before you is great, and the land ahead has become filled with wild beasts. I will send a Watcher, the Origin of War, and he will clear the way ahead of you that you may be safe.”

  The word “watcher” stuck in Johannan’s mind—he had never heard this term before.

  “M-Master, all those people you destroyed, was there no way of sparing them?” he said.

  “You have much to learn, and it is so that I will send one that will teach you on your way. Go!”

  At that point, Johannan’s hair reverted to its natural charcoal colour. After some time, he noticed that the bar-headed geese that were circling above him were now further ahead. He knew he had to follow, beginning his journey towards the Yarlung Tsangpo River.

  Johannan reached the bottom of the mountains, and there were sounds of burbling and popping, the kind of sound you’d expect to hear from a spring or a stream making a new path on dry ground. He searched to see where the sounds were coming from and noticed a stretched wisp of smoke in the atmosphere. He traced the smoke, and it led to the man with the sky-blue hair, who was fanning the flames on a fire he had made. The fire was a few paces above a gushing spring of water. Johannan couldn’t recall seeing a spring on his travels to the desert or when he had been abducted.

  “Fill up your water skins, Son of Nepal. The journey ahead of you is too great.”

  “What’re you doing here, sir?” said Johannan. He wondered why a spirit would be out here baking bread at the bottom of the mountain.

  “Here, take this and eat. The bread will strengthen you,” said the man, dismissing Johannan’s question.

  Johannan ate the bread; it was moist, flavoured, and crispy. He never thought he’d ever get to eat something like this again. It was like the beginning of that dream he had back in the cage, when he smelled Mama’s cooking, and it made him feel the safety and love of his home. He tried to eat as much as he could, but he barely managed the amount he took. It seemed like his stomach had shrunken since he hadn’t eaten properly for over a week. It felt like such a wasted opportunity—a sin, even—not to be able to eat as much of this food as he could. He knew he would regret this later, but what could he do? Johannan turned to thank the man for the delicious bread, but he had already disappeared.

  Why does this man keep doing these things?

  Johannan continued to follow in the direction of the spiralling birds. It was getting late, and the geese circled above a tall tree.

  Why would the birds come to a stop in the middle of nowhere? The Master must want me to rest here tonight.

  The man with the sky-blue hair stepped out from behind the tree a few moments after. Johannan flinched. “You again!”

  The man was holding a round plate of rock, and on it were some fish and bread. He extended his hand, “Take it and eat, Son of Nepal.”

  Johannan took the food and started to eat; he gathered that the spirit didn’t like to talk, so he didn’t bother thanking him, or he may just disappear again.

  The man had his back to Johannan while he was monitoring the wilderness.

  “Did you know that you were being followed?” he asked.

  Johannan paused. “No, I didn’t, sir. Who is following me?” He glanced over his shoulder seeing nothing but the blue-violet tint of the evening sky and the darker, empty wilderness behind him. He turned back. “He’s gone!”

  He did it again.

  Johannan didn’t feel like he had the right to be annoyed, but nevertheless, he could feel the irritation tightening his face. Who could be following him way out here in the wilderness? He didn’t see anyone during the day, but he would be sure to keep an eye out for whoever it may be. He stamped the ground, “Why didn’t he just say who it was!”

  He leaned his back against the tree. The sun had almost surrendered to the whiteness of the moon. The songs of the local birds calmed him, and his eyelids became heavier.

  “Quickly, Son of Nepal!”

  Johannan jumped out of his sleep, “What is it?”

  The man was standing in front of him. His robes shone many times brighter than his first appearance in the village. It was very late, crickets were chirping; Johannan must have dozed off without knowing. He got up and scanned around. Strands of his hair blew against his face; it was more windy than usual.

  “What’s going on? H-how— ?” he shook his head as if he was recovering from a state of daze. “Why can I see my body sleeping against the tree? Am I dreaming?”

  “This is no dream—this is the spirit realm, and it is called the Everplanes. I have been ordered to reveal the secrets of the earth to you, that you may see further than the eyes of man permits you. Some things here may look the same, others are not.” The man turned around and ambled away.

  “Make haste, Son of Nepal. There is not much time!” he said

  Johannan could feel the urgency in his voice giving him a burst of energy. He followed the man, taking several glances at his body just lying t
here under the tree. His body seemed so at peace, it seemed like the only time his pain and sorrows were not weighing him down.

  This Everplanes didn’t seem any different from the real world, though it could be the reason for all this wind. They continued to trace Johannan’s steps.

  “I’ve walked all this way already, why are we going back?”

  “Wait and you will see.”

  A question came to Johannan—he had met this man so many times, and he didn't know what to call him.

  “What is your name?”

  “The Master calls me Aneo.”

  They approached a group of large shrubs which concealed someone behind it. Aneo continued past the wall of shrubs to stand in front of the person’s view. The person didn’t seem to respond to his presence, just like the time he had seen Aneo in the village among the people.

  “Do not worry, Son of Nepal, they cannot see nor hear us.” He beckoned Johannan, “Come.”

  They? Johannan echoed in his mind. He stepped forward and felt blood rushing to his head as soon as he saw who it was.

  “That’s the woman and the child that were at the village gates! Why are they following me?”

  “Her name is Pema, and the child is called Rinzen.” Aneo pointed at a rock, “Her intent is to kill you in your sleep with that stone.”

  Johannan covered his mouth, “W-why? I didn’t do anything to her.”

  “Yes, that is true, but she holds you responsible for the death of her husband, her mother, her father, and her siblings.”

  He seemed very specific about her motives—Johannan believed he could have just said the word “family.” The mention of each person caused Johannan to feel an invasion of panic and worry.

  “I’m still asleep! We should go and wake me up, or she’ll kill me, and I’ll never see Ayushi and Mama again!”

  “Do not be frightened—the second that plan was conceived, the Master provided a way out that you may live.”

  Johannan still felt worried. He was helpless. The last time Aneo had told him not to worry, he was beaten in the morning. As far as he was concerned, the Master didn’t have to do anything but wake him up and let him run miles away. Pema had a child, so there was no way that he couldn’t create a vast distance between them. He considered it a bit more and questions came to mind, objecting to his ideas. But what if she caught up, just like Mama did in that dream? I’d be helpless.

  Pema took hold of the rock, and leaving her child, Rinzen, asleep, she lumbered towards the place Johannan was sleeping. Johannan wondered whether he might be able to wake up and get away in time if he left Aneo and scooted into his body.

  Aneo gently fanned the air behind him with his hand. “Be still, Son of Nepal, we must wait. The Master has not yet permitted us to move from here.”

  Johannan’s head dropped to face the ground in defeat; it seemed like Aneo was reading his mind.

  Aneo pointed towards the direction Pema went, “Observe and do not let her leave your sight.”

  Johannan lifted his head to stare in the direction of his body. Aneo stood there, gazing in the same direction with his arms folded. Johannan watched Pema staggering with the rock in her hand, Just one hit with a rock that size would kill anyone.

  She was getting closer, to a point where Johannan was beginning to cringe. If the Master has something planned, he’d better do it now.

  An abrupt explosion of a great fire threw Pema into the air and sent her several paces back. The flames grew to sound like the howling wind of a storm, and a voice that sounded like a multitude of men all speaking at once began to speak.

  “I am one of the Seven Origins of the Heavens. I am the Origin of War.” Two eyes of a greater fire materialised, and Pema screamed so loud that Rinzen woke up and ran to her.

  “You have escaped judgment on the mountain, children of Wenling, and this I know not how.” The fire surrounded them, and Pema cried out in the direction of Johannan, who appeared to be fast asleep, “Please save us, young sorcerer! I’m sorry! Please spare us!”

  Johannan could see and hear everything and he began to worry about Rinzen.

  A man with burnished bronze skin materialised within the surrounding blaze. He had the appearance of a most dreadful and awesome warrior. His hair was wild like a lion’s mane and glowed as orange as molten metal. A being that looked like the entire earth, from its expansive mountains to its surging seas, would shudder before him. A colossal wheel of flames spun above him. His countenance was so frightening that even Johannan, from the distance he was at, felt an uninvited tremble. Pema called him to help, but what could he do? He was fast asleep and stuck in the Everplanes, wherever that was.

  His head turned towards Aneo, “What’s going to happen to her?”

  “She and the child will die. There will be no escape for them,” said Aneo. His way of words and tone revealed that he was surprisingly comfortable with this. “The fires of earth bring warmth and are here to serve man, but the fires of the spirit realm bring about vast destruction.”

  Johannan didn’t want Pema and especially Rinzen to die. He heard the singing of a swift scrape of metal as the Origin of War withdrew a long sword.

  “There must be something that can be done to save them.”

  “There is nothing that anyone can do apart from yourself. You are the only one with the power to stop this, Son of Nepal.”

  Johannan wondered what he meant by that. He didn’t know he could stop this, otherwise he would have stopped it moments earlier.

  “How? How do I stop this, Aneo?”

  Aneo chuckled, “Still you do not know of the power that is within you.” He shook his head in a way that displayed slight disappointment. “Do you remember what happened when the mist was about to destroy the prisoners in the village?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “You remembered, yet you still exercise your talent to ask amiss. What saved them, Son of Nepal?”

  Johannan rubbed the frown on his face, then the answer came to him. He waved towards the sky, “Master! Please do not do this, spare the woman and her child!”

  Aneo laughed. It was an outburst of deep satisfaction. “Excellent, Son of Nepal, excellent!”

  A short time went past, and Aneo tapped Johannan on the shoulder and pointed, “Look, Son of Nepal.”

  The Origin of War stopped dead in his tracks. His attention was diverted towards the heavens. He sheathed his sword. “Someone has spoken on your behalf, and the Master has decided to show you mercy. Arise and go, you are free!”

  The bronzed figure jumped and hovered a few feet above Pema and disappeared with the flame. There was an afterglow in the locations he hovered. It appeared as though he burned through the atmosphere, leaving a brilliance like heated coal.

  “It worked!” shouted an excited Johannan.

  “Yes, and she will be returning soon. Let us leave now, but you must not worry, you are both safe. Make haste! I have much to show you, and the morning will be here soon,” said Aneo, treading away. Johannan followed along.

  CHAPTER 22

  The request to chasten Europe

  There was a certain beauty about the moon of the Everplanes. Johannan noticed that it shimmered with silver and soft contrasts of pink. Aneo’s white raiment appeared brighter than the moon itself as it climbed from a brightness to a brilliance.

  “The Master wants me to teach you, and he will take us to the next place. Take ahold of my hand, Son of Nepal.”

  Johannan held on to Aneo’s warm hand, and he noticed a surge of energy flowing through his body. He felt as light as a falling leaf on an autumn wind. Aneo waved a hand toward the sky, “Master, take us to the next destination.”

  After he finished his words, the entire scenery changed. They appeared in a vast darkness.

  “Where are we?” asked Johannan. His voice echoed back at him, insisting that this place was much bigger. The radiance of Aneo’s robes was the only source of light in the darkness, but it still was
n’t enough to illuminate the entire location.

  “You are about to witness something important.”

  A spotlight beamed to reveal a lofty mountain. It had a circulating belt of serene clouds just above the mid-section, and at the peak was a throne made of glass-like gold material. There was no material like this on earth. The light increased to expose a serene sea that mirrored the sky.

  Moments later, the Soburin appeared seated on the throne. His reflection in the sea had caused it to come to life. The sea danced with swirls of grace, and its bluish hue changed to a glow like mottled fires of gold.

  At the bottom, further away from the sea, a separate spotlight appeared on another individual. He was standing on a precipice that overhung the golden sea to the far end.

  Johannan noticed his hair was sky blue, just like Aneo’s, but much longer. Its flowing elegance was closer in appearance to a glinting cloak that could cover him.

  “Great One, it is with a heavy heart I bring this tragic case to your attention.”

  “Speak, Teki.”

  Teki’s hair responded to the voice of the Soburin with a subtle silver shimmer that moved almost like a quiver of warmth that would go down one’s spine on a chilly day.

  Johannan stared into Aneo’s face with a demeanour that expressed he was dying to ask him a question. Aneo nodded, hinting that Johannan should ask.

  “Who is this Teki?”

  Aneo’s face changed, he angled himself away—he seemed irritated. Johannan had never thought he’d see him like this.

  “Teki is of the brotherhood of Origins. They are the highest-ranking Watchers of our order. He is called the Origin of the South, the Origin of Evil and Darkness.”

  “Judging by the look on your face and those titles, he doesn’t seem to be a very nice person.”

  Aneo shook his head and dismissed a chuckle, “A nice person!” he repeated. An expression of disappointment showed on his face. “You cannot fathom the amount of kingdoms and lives on earth that have been laid low by this being and his subjects. Pay close attention and you will see.”

  Teki’s smooth voice replied to the Soburin, “Have you seen the tension the tillers have brought upon themselves in Europe? The accounts permitted for murder have overflowed sevenfold, and the children of the land starve with hunger because they are made into orphans. Will it go unnoticed?”

 

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