The Rising Sun: Episode 1 (11 page)

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, gesturing 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.”

He slowly
sheathed the sword again, and looked at Ion with a strange look in
his green eyes.

“After hearing
of the tale you told me,” he said. “I’m led to conclude that …
you’re now
alone
?”

Ion felt his
mind flash back to the event a few days ago. The fateful event. And
his insides seemed to squeeze painfully.
Alone…