They Were Born Upon Ashes (10 page)

“Perfect for target practice,” said Andrew.

“Do we always need to be under the moonlight and sky or something?”

“No, Nick, not at all. Although it’s always a nice view and the extra light from the moon makes things easier on us.”

“Which power will it be?” asked Nick.

“The supreme Reza’s destructive heart.”

“Heart? What do you mean by that?”

“You can feel this attack resonate in your heart, in your chest, right here,” said Andrew as he pointed his index finger at his chest.

“This attack stems from a force of nature I’m sure you’ve seen in the sky. When it rains heavily and the sky lights up followed by a giant booming roar. We harness this and send it towards our foes.”

Nick stood in front of the tree and closed his eyes. He went through the steps he did the night before in order to step into his mind to find his powers.

“Concentrate, Nick,” said Andrew. “You must see it but you also must feel it. You cannot do one and not the other.”

Nick controlled his breathing with his meditation. He sat there on the hill he always went to and stared at the tree before him. Suddenly, the tree morphed into a thousand and he was walking along the barren dirt road. The trees started attacking and he couldn’t harness the power. He sent fire and ice just as he had done before. Finally, as branches started to land their blows and Nick feared for his life he performed the attack. He felt his chest pulsate. The pulsating grew into the feeling of his chest being stretched from the inside outwards. Then his chest caved in and he felt a burning sensation resonate through his arms. His arms then pulsated and his chest no longer did. Finally the feeling reached his hands. He put them together and aimed them to his right as a tree started to come and attack him. As his hands rested on each other and his palms faced outwards he could feel an energy get released from his arms. It was a feeling similar as when a muscle cramp finally went away. He saw the dark wave attack with sparks come flooding from his hands and land its mark on the tree.

“Easy there, kid!”

Nick opened his eyes to find Andrew lying on the ground and his arms directed at him.

“I’m glad you found the power but you could have directed it in any direction but the one I was standing in,” said Andrew.

“I’m sorry, sir, but that’s where the tree was attacking me in my vision.”

“Yes, yes, it’s quite alright. How did it feel? You felt it, right?”

“I felt it from my heart and through my hands. I’ve never felt something like that.”

“It’s unreal, isn’t it?”

Andrew pointed at the giant tree trunk in front of them.

Nick stood there and tried the attack once more. He sent a fire ball at the tree.

“You must distinguish your powers, Nick. Use your mind to find it, but trust in your abilities to execute.”

Nick concentrated, put his hands together, and sent out another fire ball. He grunted and placed his hands together again. This time he sent out a fireball. He grunted louder this time.

“Do not get frustrated,” said Andrew. “Frustration is your enemy. We will never let the enemy win. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now concentrate. Do not execute an attack until you feel it.”

Nick concentrated with his eyes fixated on the giant tree. He had his palms together, then relaxed them to his side. Finally, he felt the pulsation coming from his chest. He put his arms back together and felt the attack flow through his arms and out his palms. The attack landed on the trunk and pieces of bark flew in every direction.

He did it again and again. With each successful attack the succeeding attacks became easier to harness and execute.

“It’s like muscle memory,” said Nick. “The more you do it the easier it becomes.”

“It is exactly that. The hardest part is always the first part. The hardest part in anything new that you do is the beginning.”

Time after time Nick executed the attack against the tree trunk. With each successful attack the next one came faster. He became more precise and consistent. When Andrew finally saw that he decided to call it a night.

Andrew handed a canteen of water to Nick who was now drenched in sweat and out of breath. Nick looked up at the thirty square foot window in the sky above and saw something truly remarkable. He saw three dragons fly by. They were not terribly high in the sky; they were, in fact, fairly low. He could see the moonlight reflect off of their dark scaled skin. Their wings stretched enormously wide. Their bodies were massively long. In his mind he estimated they were some forty feet long from head to tail, possibly even longer. He did not get a look at their faces or any other smaller details. All he could see was the enormity of the three of them. It was something Nick had never seen before. He was stuck in a euphoric and mind numbing state. The beasts were magically magnificent.

“Did...did you see that?”

“See what, Nick?”

“Dragons.”

“Dragons? Dragons flew over us?”

“I can’t believe it, but yes. Three dragons just flew above us. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“Pretty much no one has seen what you have just seen,” said Andrew. “Dragons are the rarest of the rare. You might be one of the few living souls to see one. Not even one but three. I’m sort of jealous, to say the least.”

Nick let out a smile. His parents used to tell him bed time stories of the fictitious events of a group of dragons. They were always his favorite stories. For a few years he could swear that he would ask for the same story every night and be equally entertained. He looked back up at the night sky and thought to himself.

Thank you, Mom and Dad. I know you’re out there. I don’t know if you sent those dragons or if it was by luck. But not a day goes by that I don’t miss you and love you both. Thank you for watching over me; I know for a fact that you both are.

Andrew and Nick started the hike and made it back to camp. This night they returned just as late as the camp was essentially all sleeping. Nick hoped some people would have been up to witness what he had just seen. Chills rushed down his spine as he made his way up camp and told Penny about the dragons and his successful training.

Chapter Seven

Phillip Denize was a strong Paplon warrior who notoriously made the Vincot Arena crowd energetic and loud. He did not have the fastest of swings but the strength behind each blow made his opponents tremble in fear. It had been just over a week since Nick had departed Phillip and the arena in favor of serving the king in Genold City.

Phillip and the rest of the inmates were unaware of any of the events that had transpired in the past few days. As far as they knew the king was still alive and Genold City was as it had always been. The mouths of the superior officers who had received word of the travesty kept their words to themselves. They knew that rumors spread like wild fire in the arena. The Refect and the superior officers in the city still wanted nothing more than to entertain the good people of Vincot and make as much money as possible from betting on the combatants.

Phillip found himself on the bloody sands of the Vincot Arena fighting to the death with one dark skinned Paplon named Downfall. They stood face to face at the center of the arena waiting for Game Commissioner George Belan to ring the bell from the stands.

Phillip breathed calmly. The sun beamed down heavily as it broke through an array of thick clouds. A few drops of sweat fell to the ground. His opponent stared at him without blinking. Both men had their hands near their weapons and were ready to engage. Neither of them opted to wield a shield. That was always a risk considering how skillful some Paplon were with a bow and arrow.

The bell rang.

Downfall pulled out his two steel short swords and came hurling at Philip while letting out a mighty scream.

Phillip placed both hands on his steel battle axe and placed it across his body at a diagonal angle.

The crowd erupted. They screamed and cheered as the two men made their first moves of the fight.

A flurry of Downfall’s attacks came at Phillip and he calmly blocked them with ease.

Whether the attack came from the left, right, or at an upward angle, Phillip was too quick to block.

One sword came from the above and the other was swung towards his shin. Phillip jumped backwards to avoid a blow.

He hooked the sword in the curved edge of his battle axe and whipped it to the side. The sword came hurling out of Downfall’s hands and fell onto the sandy arena floor.

It was Phillip’s turn to attack. He swung the heavy battle axe like it was a wooden stick. His opponent stepped backwards with each blow he defended with his insignificant short sword. Downfall would block an attack, but the strength behind Phillip’s battle axe would send the short sword slinging towards his own body. He would not only have to dodge the swing of the battle axe, but he would also have to dodge the blow back momentum from his own sword.

After a flurry of a dozen swings Phillip sent out his signature attack. He jumped in the air and spun around a whole three hundred and sixty degrees with his mighty axe in hand.

Downfall put both hands on the grip of the sword and aimed it in defense as Phillip came around with his attack.

The battle axe cut through the steel short sword like a knife would cut through a piece of string.

The top half of Downfall’s sword came speeding towards his face and left a gash above his eye.

Phillip did not stop attacking. Downfall dipped and dove out of the way of the onslaught of deadly attacks. He narrowly escaped each attack. The battle axe came so close to landing a blow that Downfall could feel the hairs on his body sway from the wind that Phillip’s axe created.

Downfall did a back flip as Phillip swung his axe. As Downfall stood up his hands were closed into fists. Phillip came closer to swing his axe once more only to have a hand full of sand thrown into his eyes.

Phillip yelled in pain and annoyance as Downfall took the opportunity of Phillip not being able to see and ran around him to pick up his other steel short sword that was still on the ground near the center of arena.

The crowd booed as Downfall made his cowardly escape. Phillip rubbed the sand out of his eyes and ran towards Downfall with a new determination. He had never wanted to kill someone quite as badly in the arena as he did in that moment.

He continued his sprint towards Downfall while he simultaneously swung his axe from left to right. It twirled from hand to hand flawlessly as if it were weightless.

Downfall stood his ground.

Phillip jumped in the air with his mighty axe fully stretched behind his back. Downfall stood there helplessly and tried to defend himself with the sword stretched straight across his body.

Phillip screamed and the axe came down with such force that it split Downfall’s blade in half. Downfall received a crevice between his eyes.

The crowd cheered as Phillip took his axe back from the lifeless body and claimed his victory. He put his arms up for the crowd and then quickly made his way back to the gate that lead to the dungeons.

He was not the type of victor who would do laps around the arena and wave and blow kisses to the crowd. He was more humble than most.

“Sinister! Sinister! Sinister!”

The crowd chanted his arena name and it rung throughout the gates of Vincot.

He was never too fond of the name given to him by the crowd. He felt the name did not fit who he really was as a person. But he understood that the crowd did not know Phillip Denize. They only knew of the merciless mad man with an axe.

He walked through the gate and was met with the Refect gate keeper.

“The head Refect and game commissioner would like to speak to you.”

“About what?” asked Phillip.

“None of my business,” said the Refect. “Come now. Let’s go.”

They went down the elevator, through the armory, and through the closed door that no inmate stepped past.

They walked down the hall and up the stairs into George Belan’s office.

Game Commissioner George Belan sat behind his desk with a pile of papers on it. He wore his usual attire of white and gold jewelry. Head Refect Master Dekan stood at George’s side. He stood straight and looked Phillip dead in his eyes.

“Congratulations on your win,” said Master Dekan.

“Thank you,” said Phillip.

“Looks as though the gods are on your side,” said Master Dekan.

“How so?”

“That fight has just won you your freedom,” said George.

“Freedom? I still have years left in my sentence.”

“Yes, you heard me correctly,” said George. “Do not be mistaken, though. Regardless of whether or not you are in this arena or are out in the streets once again, your life is just as insignificant. Do not ever forget that.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Phillip. “Why are you letting me be free?”

“An order from the ones who rank higher than us sent word,” said Master Dekan. “The king’s men requested your freedom in order for you to be at their side. That is all the information we have at this point. Their message was vague but it was sealed and signed by Jeffrey, the leader of the king’s men. We have no choice but to let you go. You just have to sign right here.”

Master Dekan slid a paper to the other end of the table. It had a message that described the terms of release from the Vincot Arena. It was already signed by Master Dekan and George Belan.

Phillip looked at the page. He then looked up at the two men and said, “Could one of you read it out loud. I was never taught how to read.”

“You truly are a waste of life and space, Phillip,” said George while he snickered.

“I apologize that I was never taught how to read,” said Phillip.

Master Dekan let out a big sigh and said, “Fine, listen carefully. The page reads as follows: By special circumstances, by request of the king, or the governing body of Hentrio I, Phillip Denize, have been granted freedom from the Vincot Arena. My sentence will be cut short on this day and no further sentence shall be given now or at a later date for my convicted crime(s). This letter does not grant me the right to commit any crimes once I am free, nor does it imply that the crime(s) I was previously convicted of to be deemed as legal to commit. Game Commissioner George Belan and Head Refect Master Dekan have agreed to the terms of my release by signing here: George Belan ---- Master Dekan. Inmate signature to agree to the terms stated on this page here...”