Balance of Death Read online

  Thromb worried Victor somehow knows what he has been up to. Did Asta get found out? “I was tracking the Krishunder.” Thromb not giving away any signs of concern.

  Unbenounced to Thromb the Krishunder and all emotional energy manifestations have become an important issue with the clerics, and therefore the mention of the Krishunder pulls a lot of the focus away from any doubt. “What have you found?” Victor presses.

  “Their numbers remain inconsequential and their movements erratic.” Thromb relying on older reports as he has not been around to take note of their increasing numbers, or more recent behaviors.

  Victor lifts his chin doubting Thromb; “This meeting will go smoothly. Do you understand?” Victor doesn’t want conflict now with more important issues mounting.

  “That depends on Amneka’s position wouldn’t you say.” Thromb not committing to Victor’s course of action.

  Victor snarls and is about to go off on Thromb when suddenly his eyes start glowing and he raises into the air slightly. This could only mean a message from fellow clerics, and due to the abrupt nature perhaps from Thatos himself.

  Thromb unsure of how to act as this has never happened before. After a while Victor drops to the ground and returns to normal. Victor appears concerned. “I’ll deal with you later.” Victor turns to the door and opens it, about to leave, before turning back around and making eye contact with Thromb; “Smoothly.” Victor sternly warns.

  Later in a waiting area just before the meeting room the clan leaders are in discussion. Amongst them; Setgaith of the Qilong clan; Ka’eo of the Erlong clan; Thromb of the Shanshe; and Nenatta of the Vokhes clan.

  “Clanmates.” Thromb addresses the room grabbing their attention. Setgaith is still jaded by Thromb starting a motion to have him succeeded. The rest of the room reminded of Amneka’s power by the companies deployed here that only represent a fraction of their might. This has everyone more concerned for their people and clan mates back home then fighting Thromb’s moral battles.

  “I know we have had our disagreements. I may have made mistakes.” Thromb professes glancing at Setgaith. “I would ask you to look inside yourselves and recognize my actions as efforts to preserve us.” Thromb beginning to choke up a bit. “Whatever our disagreements; there is a time for discourse and a time for action. I urge you all to think of your people, our heritage, and clanmates. Being on the fore of the clan’s efforts to collect intelligence on the outside world I have been exposed to much, but the thing that sticks out is the nature of beings without purpose or meaning. Throughout the lands and cultures we have seen two things remain constant; ignorance and violence. Don’t sacrifice philosophy for security, because whatever sacrifice we may commit to will only be the first of many.” Thromb looks down taking a moment. “It is harder to stop the tidal wave than to dam the inlet.” Thromb finishes his clanmates remain quite until a knock on the door indicating it is time for the meeting.

  They all exit into the meeting room where the Amnekian Politicians sit at the table. Key amongst them Ruvaen, Neldor, Ihro Zamran, and a group of lords who will be taking part in the culmination. Some of the lords are still standing by the glass wall of the spherical room enjoying the view.

  “Please let us discuss.” Ruvaen pointing to the chairs on the other side of the oval table, addressing the clan leaders. Once the lords and clan leaders have taken their seats Ruvaen describes the culmination plans only the first major city and describes the remaining objectives as settlements for trade routes: downplaying them. “You will be given full autonomy in your reserved areas, but we will be afforded the same luxury outside of those reserved territories surrounding your clan cities.” Ruvaen capping off his speech with his expectations.

  “We would like to share with you some of our efforts of conservation. A few top level highlights for today, and more in depth discussions can be held as they become pertinent.” Ka’eo addresses the table. “You should limit your resource collection to support a specified amount of people. By this I mean you can have a large city or dense population, but we expect you to spread out your resource collection to support such a city outside of your immediate area. This will..” Before Ka’eo can finish he is interrupted.

  “We will consult your clans for their expertise in the area and take your concerns into consideration, but we will not be bound by such.” Ruvaen interjects. Ka’eo surprised by his forwardness is left speechless.

  “I can only speak for the Shanshe clan, but we expect you will have no more than 2,000 solider military presence per 5,000 mile radius. Amneka will also ensure their presence doesn’t significantly deteriorate their environment. Disregard for these will be recognized as an act of war, and the Shanshe will take appropriate action.” Thromb declares. Various Amnekian politicians begin responding to such a bold declaration at the same time. Voices echo throughout the room, no one more distant than another, and Thromb the only clan leader standing feels the weight of his words as the Amnekian politicians berate him. Nevertheless he stands as bold and unflinching as a Bonefus Oak tree.

  “Calm yourselves.” Ruvaen commands silencing the room. Ruvaen looks over at Neldor who is very displeased with Thrombs words. “That is a reckless stance. Before we allow what could be a productive and lucrative discussion deteriorate to threats let me ask if your peers feel the same.” Ruvaen provoking disunity amongst the clans. “I would like to remind you that we are posing no danger to your territories or way of life; to the contrary we could be beneficial neighbors, or terrible enemies.” Ruvaen controlling the focus of the clan leaders.

  The rest of the clan leaders remain seated leaving Thromb standing alone against the storm as they can see through the glass of the sphere; to the massive collection of men Amneka brought. Huge devices of war: carriages with powerful forced chakra blasters with crystals the size of a man. “Well then it would appear..” Thromb attempts to continue.

  “Qilong stands with him.” Setgaith stands interrupting Ruvaen leaving him speechless.

  “Erlong stands with him.” Ka’eo inspired by Setgaiths bold move, and sickened by Ruvaen. Ready to fight for their way of life, and to fight for their philosophy.

  They all turn to Nenatta who is still sitting. She knows her clan would risk their entire way of life if they were to stand in direct conflict with Amneka. Vokhes to the outside world a weak and small clan, but she knows their strength is likely greater than the other three combined. However, it isn’t only Amneka who would take issue with their secret; Thatos himself might see them as an enemy; perhaps even Agmenskol. Such enemies surely pose a much greater risk than Amneka; with all this running through her head she cannot allow herself to stand regardless of how much she wants to.

  Later on, west Phalyados Region far from Amneka, and the clan territories. Deep in dry dead lands. Sand and rock cover the landscape with sharp steep cliffs intermittently jutting out. The sky is bleak; like a blanket of dark sphere covering the landscape from the sun. Asta begins to open her eyes still partially dazed she makes out a figure just outside the stone shelter she is in; he is looking onto the apathetic landscape. The only life growing from remnants of what had been: a flower blooming from the stump of a long dead tree.

  Asta sits up groggy the crackling fire and hot desert air begin to bring her back. Her mind scrambles to make sense of where she is and how she got here. Suddenly memories of her fight with the old man slam back.

  She feels uneasy. Not from the attack; even as she was being overtaken the prospect of death didn’t loom as heavy as her current predicament. Being spared has brought back a feeling she hasn’t experienced in decades. She feels vulnerable and not in control. She would welcome death as a consequence of her path but being alive under the grace of another is infuriating.

  “Enough of this. Who are you?” Asta commands. If the old man hasn’t attempted to kill her; he must not want to. As the old man stares off into the distance his robe blowing from the sandy gusts of wind.

  The old man doesn’t recogniz
e this tone from Asta. It isn’t anger or even conviction as usual. It is more anxious and erratic. “I am Bion. The last surviving member of Lady Kutara’s lineage.” Bion says calmly. He raises his head to the heavens remembering the fateful day the godlike Kutara took on Thatos himself.

  Asta is familiar with Kutara’s name and legends. The notion seems too fictional and doesn’t ground her concerns or feelings of vulnerability so she presses further. “Even if that is true why do all this; why have you involved yourself in my affairs?” Asta snaps.

  Bion allows himself to let his guard down as Asta has been forced to. He too has kept himself at a distance with those around him, and mindfully dictates his life. For nearly 800 hundred years. “You foolish child you think you are the only one who knows loss? You’ve done nothing but hide yourself away for a century and drive yourself mad with fantasies of revenge!” Bion turning his head slightly. Looking at Asta out of the corner of his eye his body still positioned away. “Thatos has been a tyrant for a millennium and you are just a petulant child compared to him.” Bion turns facing Asta. “I have spent far too long in this world watching time unfold; all of it benign to the gods and their agenda. Meeting you pushed me off the cliff I had climbed. As I tumbled down and down into the pit of the reality the gods have built.” Bion growls clenching his fist the wind and sky darkens and flurries.

  Bion stops settling his emotions; unclenching his fist. He takes a deep breath and his snarl fades. “This century feels different. You are different; you remind me of her.” Bion professes as he stares off into the distance. The gravity of his words crushes any lingering doubt in Asta’s mind. “I have lived long enough in the shadows.” As Bion speaks, the air thickens and the ground trembles. His hair floats up and the robe around his chest disintegrates. Purple chakra surrounds him dense with power. “I know them, and with my help, you will become stronger than my grandmother… You will be a god!”

  The next day. Back at the border of Wrathbrook Thromb in the kingdom of Valgue sits atop a tall building looking down at the city. A sea of sharp angled roofs build up to an enormous castle at the center where the politicians operate within the capital of this kingdom. Thromb reflects on his enemy: Amenka. As he looks down at the carriages streaming through the streets people walking by even kids playing. He can’t help but wonder how this scene can exist within such a despicable nation; he looks down at his enemies and feels a connection.

  He knows what he must do. Once Victor discovers how the meeting went he will likely force the clans to subdue to Anmeka’s will.

  With the other sages and masters on their way back to their territory. He has instructed Oaenopain to have him exiled after this. There can be no connection to this and the clans.

  Thromb leaps from the building, landing briefly on a dormer window jutting out from a structure, before he continues from building to building making his way to the large castle. Once Thromb reaches the castle he jumps down landing on the sidewalk of a busy street his concussive landing drawing attention from those around him. Ignoring that he walks towards the castle where Ruvaen is, with a purpose. As he readies himself to take out the guards just outside the 20 foot main door; it opens and Victor steps out dragging Oaenopain behind him unconscious.

  Thromb’s heart stops as he sees his comrade in Victor’s merciless hands. Victor tosses Oaenopain down the stairs leading up to the entrance. “I know your plans and lies boy. You shouldn’t have trusted them with such a weak mind!” Victor taunts. Thromb realizing Victor must have been granted the authority to use outlawed Soten to read Oaenopain’s thoughts. Thromb gets short of breath thinking of the consequences he has brought upon his people. Until he realizes; Oaenopain didn’t know about the other sage’s or clan members involvement. As the only one with that knowledge he must kill Victor or die trying.

  Thromb quickly musters up all his strength and weaves a Soten. His chakra builds up around his physical form. “You can’t be serious not even you are that stupid Thromb.” Victor yells in disbelief as Thromb is about to attack him.

  Composing another Soten Thromb points his fingers like a gun and focuses a huge amount of chakra at his fingertips. Then he puts his hands together, and points it at Victor. A deafening crack sounds out. The air around him is forced outward in a shockwaves shattering the stone stairs, and sending a powerful blast of kinetic energy screaming at Victor tearing up the ground and anything in or near its path.

  Victor uses a Soten to create a shield of his chakra the blast collides with Victor’s shield and the area around him explodes. The front part of the castle is torn apart. A cloud of dust and debris fogs the entire area. Thromb speeds towards Victor’s chakra and is met with a blast of lightning sending him flying backwards into another building.

  Victor teleports just before him with a smile on his face he performs a forbidden Soten that not even the clansmen know anymore. He splits his chakra up into ten as it uses the air and anything else near it to form clones of Victor.

  The clones rush Thromb and they exchange blows with him in a flurry of strikes. Thromb manages to land a strike on a clone, and simultaneously sends a blast of kinetic energy from his fist, destroying the clones ribcage. Sending the corpse flying and tearing up the ground.

  Just after landing the blow Thromb is struck by a different clone. As he goes flying another clone, using Soten, shoots a blast of chakra at him exploding against the chakra around Thromb crumbling the buildings around them, as they begin to break apart and fall.

  Thromb lands on the ground and readies himself. Victor using Soten to build up a huge amount of chakra he faces his fingers forward and an immense beam of chakra bolts out. As the beam speeds towards Thromb the super heated air around the beam shoots out in all directions destroying the street and killing anything near it. Thromb using Soten focuses his chakra around his forearms and holds them up the beam engulfing him as it burns on the chakra in his forearms. Thromb thinking quickly makes a hand sign, as he continues to hold his arms up blocking the blast. This Soten allows his chakra to remain where his forearms were; freeing his hands up.

  As the beam begins to eat away his chakra. Thromb composes a Soten and touches the ground, and the earth forms up around him swallowing him down into the ground. Thromb is shot up from the ground behind Victor, and chakra forms a blade around his arm as he stabs through Victors chest.

  Victor’s chin raises and blood shoots out of his mouth the beam from his finger tips violently flickers exploding energy out in all directions creating destruction. Until it finally subsides, and Victor drops to the ground and fades into dust. Thromb with dread realizing this was only a clone. Several clones on roofs around Thromb use Soten to send massive chakra blasts from all directions down at him. “Sage or not you are still merely a mortal you fool!” The Victor clones yells in glee as they continue blast him. The blasts get more and more powerful.

  The blast destroys the city block and levels the buildings. As the dust settles, Thromb is at the center of a huge crater with his hands together only two fingers raised. A sphere of chakra around him that saved him from the heat and force of the blast. The Victor clones surround him at the top of the crater. One of the Victor’s stands atop a building a distance away.

  The other Victor clones take turns speeding at Thromb and exchanging blows. As they do concussions emit form the crater from their strikes. The Amnekian guards and even some Mystico opsmen look on in awe at the power of the clans as Thromb holds his own against the group of the cleric’s clones.

  Thromb contemplates how he can tip the scales as he counters the incoming clones. Time slows as he looks over at the Victor in the distance who performs another forbidden Soten. The Victor in the distance extends his arms out fingers separated his chakra streams out in all directions attaching to any living thing around engulfing it and corrupting its chakra into his. Thromb realizing the clerics access to forbidden Soten and immense chakra reserve makes him an undefeatable enemy for him. Thromb uses a Soten to shoot kinetic ener
gy in all directions blasting the clones back giving him a reprieve.

  Thromb stares into the distance and with a warriors resolve realizes he only has one choice. Before one last Soten he readies his fists in front of him. “Your strength is useless, because your will is merely a flicker to our blaze!” Thromb yells out. With all he can his veins harden and swell around his neck and muscles. Thromb smashes his fists together and his chakra eats his corporeal form and converts his entire being into a kinetic blast. Air, debris, the clones, and buildings are torn in towards the crater as the kinetic energy builds. until finally, a blastwave shoots out disintegrating everything in its path. For several blocks. The city quakes at the blast and the ground rumbles. Until finally the main blast is done, and just crumbling buildings and massive debris is left.

  In the distance Victor floats above. Looking down at the broken city. “I have been too kind. Thatos forgive me.”

  Chapter 20

  Days later Asta returns to Qilong city eager to test out Bion’s theory. It is important that she is discreet and doesn’t attract attention. Asta walks up through the gate as a visitor this time. Not wanting the attention a cognate of the clan would get. As she makes her way into the city it seems bleaker than her last visit. The streets are mostly empty with only a few people scurrying through. Their haste once born of motivation; now of fear and worry.