HTG - Chapter 193

Kalon

Chapter One-Hundred-Ninety-Three: Sha - Part Three

Planet: Etheria

Time saunters back and forth with the raging of my realm. Something is fundamentally changing in it, the air itself quivers back and forth in a tempo I can scarcely follow. Light in the periphery blinds my eyes.

Chaos and yet… despite everything, I can’t help but feel that it is beautiful. The natural inverses of energy battling each other and creating a brilliant spectacle.

“Did you hear me, boy!” Dargo yells over the waves and gales of wind.

I shake my head.

“We need to find Amon!”

My eyes search the violent melody of the realm. It is too chaotic to see far. My eyes close as the waves take me below the surface. Find the thread of their presence and follow it. Existence ebbs and flows around me in the churn until I feel it. A pressure in the distance, nine lights, nine colors. The demons of the Cursed Edict.

I see Amon’s purple light is amongst them, as I rise to the surface, I point toward it. Dargo grips my arm and spins a weave of energy around us making a sphere of air. We rise from the surface of the water and move rapidly toward them.

Their lights become near blinding the closer we get. A massive ball of energy enshrouds them.

When we reach it, the light dulls in a small area and I see Amon ushering us to come inside the orb of energy.

Inside we see Krotha and six of her demons surrounding an orb of red maka. Spindles of lightning ricochet off of it.

“Krotha…” Dargo breathes, his brow furrowing as worry threads across it, then he stops in his tracks, “Amon…”

Amon stares at him for a time, silence falls between the master and apprentice.

“Little Dargo,” Krotha sneers, though her face looks more strained than anything as she says, “Took you long enough, without my sister guiding your every move you’ve become rather dull. Come and help balance this, you can cry about seeing your precious Amon after we’ve settled this and he takes my Legacy.”

Dargo does not move, he is trapped in looking at Amon.

“You must help us,” Amon says finally, turning back to his work, “We are barely keeping it stable. There will be time for words later.”

“Tears for later,” Krotha groans, flicking her wrist and summoning strange runes. Her power appears strained by all of this. It seems like they’re trying to stop the realm from tearing apart.

Dargo ignores the insults and moves to take a spot across from her, mixing in a hue of blue that creates a ring around it, he mutters, “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”

“Even a worm has its uses,” Krotha says, taking his blue circle and shifting it up slightly. The orb’s lightning stabilizes, and there is a noticeable change in the fluctuations of the realm.

In the distance on the edge of the massive orb that surrounds us, I see a beautiful woman, green hair and eyes that remind me of Korra in a way. These eyes are brighter though, and I recognize the hue of them. It is the green spark demon. The one that stared into the endless seas watching something in the depths.

“If you’re not going to take Krotha’s legacy, you must beseech her for hers,” Amon says.

“Can I not use yours?” I ask.

He shakes his head, “The time for that has passed. After you broke the last bound, the realm became extremely unstable.”

“Stop guiding him to her,” Krotha seethes, shaking her head, “My Legacy is all he would ever need to become the strongest.”

“And become corrupted by it,” Dargo warns.

I step towards the green sparked demon.

“Be careful,” Krotha warns, shooting a look at the green eyed woman, “She is no longer under my control.”

“Who is she?”

Krotha’s jaw flexes, “Ioquin.”

Dargo’s eyes bulge as he turns to look at her now, he is more wary suddenly, “As in the witch of the damned Ioquin?”

Krotha nods.

“The goddess of death that reigned during the time of the old gods?”

She nods again.

Dargo turns to me, “Boy, do not… Boy!”

I can barely hear him as my feet continue their march toward her. If the options are Ioquin or Krotha, then the choice is easy.

Her form has changed from the dark and shapeless shadows the other unknown demons have, and she wears a green dress that hangs elegantly on her frame, that looks as if it were made of emeralds. I find my feet moving closer to her still. There is something about her that is familiar to me. Even though I do not know her face.   

“There is beauty in chaos,” she turns, her green eyes glowing brighter, “You see the beauty, don’t you?”

I nod, transfixed by her presence. The maka bows around her in a similar way that it does for Zarae. This is the power of the old gods. Their control is more refined, more fluid and delicate. She moves her hand and parts the energy barrier and steps out into the chaotic embrace of the realm. She walks to the edge of the battered black stone and sits down.

“Come, sit with me for a time, Akronos.”

The name causes a shiver to run down my spine, my body responds as I sit next to her on the edge of the cracking rocks of the foundation that Krotha once built.

“I have never heard that name.”

She smiles, “It was lost many ages ago.” She looks out at the sky measuring the beauty she spoke of, “I have known you thrice, and now this third time,” she tilts her head at the lightning, “I know you as Kalon.”

The name she said echoes in my ears like lost tributes to time. It resonates with me, yet I do not know it, nor have I heard it before.

“You know me?”

She nods, “Your soul is as old as time itself, young one.” Sound dampens as she waves her hand to form an orb around us to block a colossal wave that would have thrown us into the endless seas. “You are that which will be. Whether you are the beginning or the end, that is your choice, as it has always been,” she smiles again, “As it always will be.”

“I don’t understand,” I say calmly, something about her tone makes the calm rise.

“In time you will.” She turns, eyes dipped in green starlight, “There will be many that seek to use you once they know your truth.”

“You are not among them?”

She laughs shallowly and turns back to the waves, “There was a time that I would have used you to conquer the universe and hold it in my palm. But in your last life, you showed me a different path, one where I needn’t be evil and wicked. There is beauty all around us, and in everything, that is what you taught me.”

“Then how did you end up here?”

Her eyes fall, “The fates have grown strong in the last age and even stronger in this one. They imprisoned me here with two of my peers. The others were lost to the changing of tides. The new are always hungry to devour the old.”

“There are more like you here?” I ask, examining the spindles of maka that flow around her.

“Yes, but they have not found themselves yet. In time as you grow, I think their minds will return as mine has, as Amon’s did as well.”

“Why is it that all of you are shadows of your former selves, but Krotha has never fallen?”

Her eyes catch in memory for a moment, “Her legacy, it is perhaps the strongest amongst us.”

“Perhaps?” I ask.

She looks back towards one of the demons that has more black in its irises than the others, “There is one whom neither Krotha nor I know their identity. One that was here even before Zarae. It is possible that their legacy is stronger than Krotha’s.” She turns back to the waves, “Or perhaps it is weak. One cannot know what one does not know.”

“Now that you are free, what will you do?”

She moves her hand to block another wave, “I will help you, as you once helped me.”

“And you want nothing in return?” I ask warily.

“Freedom is its own reward. Someday when you ascend I think it will shatter Fate’s prison and release all of us.” She turns and looks at Krotha in the distance, “Though she is younger than some of us, she is far too powerful to be released back into the world. Of the Fate’s decrees to imprison souls, hers is the one I disagree with the least. When the time comes, I simply ask that you consider that.”

Her words are not bitter, they feel tempered and wise, how many things have her eyes seen?

“There are others as well that one should not release as they are. Ones that would disrupt the balance of power,” her eyes burn a little brighter again, “Some that may be useful as a distraction.”

“A distraction?”

She smiles once more, “Of all those that the Fates wish to imprison across the annals of time, your soul is the first among them. When you ascend, they will come for you with everything they have. It will be an overwhelming force of power that will shake the cosmos.”

Her warning is steeped in excitement, almost fervently so, making me ask, “Why do you seem excited about this?”

She laughs lightly, “One does not shy away from watching the Fates battle that which will be. It is a glorious chaos that I have seen only twice.”

I swallow, “In my past lives, did I win?”

She raises an eyebrow and thinks on it for a time, then decides her stance, “You did not lose.”

“But did I win?”

She smiles coyly, “Depends on who one asks.”

“I am asking you.”

“And I have answered, young one.”

Tremors in the realm of dreams draw our focus back to the matter at hand.

She stands slowly and gracefully, the green dress she weaved sparkles in the chaotic light, “If you’re going to have your match with the Fates, you’ll need to survive this first.” She turns and begins to etch brilliant and beautiful runes in light that hum green like her eyes, “My Legacy is not easily understood, and it comes with a cost that some would never pay. Yet the reward,” her eyes bloom again, “is worth all the sacrifices it requires.”

“What exactly is your Legacy?”

She ponders it for a time, then replies, “In your mother’s tongue, I would call it Anakor.”

“Starmaker?”

“Stars are built with the pressure of gravity. My Legacy in a way works in a similar fashion. Even the most unskilled soul can become refined by using it.”

“It uses gravity?” I ask curiously, inspecting the foreign runes she draws.

“Not exactly, young one, but it compresses your soul and makes it shine brighter, in a way.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

Her hand moves slowly to place itself on my chest, directly over my heart. Intention ebbs from her as I feel a strange melody of maka tracing along my body and up into my thoughts. It is more refined than when Amon shared his legacy, it is soft and gentle as it guides me toward it.

***

I find myself floating in the void of space, it is neither hot nor cold. I see countless shapes compressing. Planet’s colliding and creating massive balls of light, everything pulls together by the gravity of its mass. The scene changes constantly as new planets and stars collide in a spectacular array of colors.

“I used to watch stars form when I was younger, before my mind and soul had fully formed. It’s beautiful, isn’t it…” she says, admiring the destruction with calm admiration. “In time I found myself in the rhythm of it. Until I understood it. And even applied it.”

She waves her hand and the scene changes to visions of energies colliding.

“I sought to watch energy itself coalesce and become one. Once I had my fill of that, I sought to see more. Before the first age, mana was not split into two forms, it was one. I sought to bridge the gap.” She turns and looks at me, “That is what awoke me, when I felt you trying to do the same. The tremors of the old way, as though your soul remembers its past.”

“So, there is a third type of mana?”

“It’s natural state, yes.”

“How did it become like it is?”

Her brow furrows, “I do not know exactly how, such things happened before I existed. But I know that I have seen it balanced before. By you in your past lives. Mana obeys your authority. Because you are born from it.”

I blink at her, even more confused, “Born from it?”

She sighs, “There is much you do not know, and much that you will learn in time, young one. We must focus, we can discuss other things later.”

She moves her hand gently again, the scene ripples as she shows Etheric and Netheric maka trying to combine.

“For countless years I tried to make them combine, I tried to mimic what I saw you do. Yet I never could without damaging my vessels.” She moves her hand again and light blossoms brightly like a star. “In the pursuit of that quest, I found my Legacy,” she holds her hands out and watches the green light dance in her hands. “A normal person has limitations to their soul, the height at which they can travel. Souls are refined across lifetimes. Gods who die become Sparks. In their next life they carry some of the benefits of their last. Making bounding much faster for them. However, if they die before they reach the Realm of Gods, they lose pieces of themselves that is taken by the Well of Souls. Each life if they do less than the last they become less. Until they become a normal mortal soul, then the rate of decay slows and improvement becomes more in their favor again.”

I take in the information and remain quiet, trying to understand what she has said. If a god dies and fails to become a god in their next life, the benefits become less each time they are reincarnated.

“I realized while studying it that one could refine the soul without needing to return to the Well of Souls. One could strengthen the foundation of their soul without having to die first.”

The air stirs in the memories she shows me.

“The sacrifice though, many would never make. Because one must return themselves to the state that passing through the Well of Souls makes them. Before the bounds. If one uses this Legacy… it compounds the soul’s ability.”

“At the cost of their bounds…”

She nods.

“Why would this benefit me?”

“Without it, I am certain your current incarnation will die and you will be sent back to the Well of Souls.”

There is no falseness in her voice. My eyes lower to look at the green orb in her hand.

“Forsake everything in exchange for more power later.”

She nods again, “What will you choose?”